

Avion

By Emma Daniels

Copyright 2011 Emma Daniels

### Smashwords Edition

### ONE

TEMPEST RISING

The ship had been becalmed for three days. It drifted upon a still, lifeless ocean. Not a breath of wind stirred to cool the heat blazing down from the huge golden sun. Weary sailors lounged in disgruntled groups upon the deck, only dispelling enough energy to fight over the meagre shady spots.

The captain stood in the wheel house, but he wasn't at the wheel. He saw no point in steering when there was nowhere to go. A tall, long-limbed man, with straight blonde hair tied back in a tidy queue, he leaned against the railing, his first mate at his side.

Even though his once great ship was battered and badly in need of repairs, Captain Rose still managed to keep his shirts white and his boots shined. While his men made do with mending worn breeches and washing in sea water, Krystos Rose always had a bath drawn at the end of each day. He saw no need in changing the habits of a life time, particularly when it relieved and relaxed him from a life he still wasn't entirely used to.

"I'm beginning to wonder if we'll ever see land again," the first mate lamented, shading his eyes against the insistent glare of the sun. "What's it been, three weeks? We'll have to start rationing again if we don't find a port soon."

The captain merely grunted. He was most at ease at sea, where he was in control of his ship and his men. Coming into port was always a hazardous affair. If he wasn't having to explain his business, it was haggling for supplies, or fighting for booty. If he could somehow conjure up everything he needed, Captain Rose would be quite content never to lay eyes on land again.

"Do you think we'll ever find a new home?" the mate persisted.

### Captain Rose glanced sideways at him. For some reason, the mate suddenly looked old, his sunburnt face craggy and careworn. Well, he was at least thirty-five. In fact, Krystos was the youngest sea-captain he knew of, having sailed The Crystal Rose from his homeland at barely eighteen. If his calculations were correct, they had been traveling for well over two years, which still made him the youngest sea-captain he knew of.

"Do you want a new home, Birch?" he asked laconically.

"We've seen so much, Captain. Had adventures aplenty, but... well, I do miss my family."

"We can never go back," Krystos snapped. "My vile excuse for a brother saw to that."

The mate stared at him. This was the first time Krystos Rose had ever mentioned his family.

Most of the crew speculated about their cold, aloof captain, wondering how one so young could be so bitter. But even after all this time none dared question his authority. He commanded with a hard hand. Many ports of call had yielded a wealth of treasures, so no man would ever be wanting should they wish to strike out on their own. So far only a few had not returned aboard.

Only one was denied such freedom; the ship's boy. For some reason, the captain saw the lad as his personal whipping post, and anyone who to dared interfere was given a lashing they'd never forget. Even though the men pitied the lad, they valued their own positions too much to do anything more than tend to his cuts and bruises, and offer a few words of comfort when they were sure the captain wasn't looking.

Birch dredged up the courage to ask the question that had been on every man's lips for months. "What do you really want, Captain?"

Krystos turned his crystal blue eyes on the mate. Their intense glitter made Birch shiver despite the cloying heat of the day. Sometimes his young captain looked old beyond his years. "To see my brother suffer till the day he dies."

Birch took a step back. Had the heat addled the captain's mind? Were all those years at sea finally getting to him? "You said yourself that we could never go back."

Krystos turned away and rested his elbows against the railing in front of him. "That I did. Any time you want to leave, Birch, you just let me know."

"Oh no Captain, that wasn't what I meant. I was simply making conversation."

Krystos sniggered cynically to himself. "I know what you were trying to do, Birch, and that was find out why I left Crystonia." He glanced over his shoulder at the mate. "That you will never know."

He returned his attention back to the deck below, scanning the area.

When his shrewd blue gaze found what he was looking for, he pointed at the slender figure slumped against a railing, a bucket and mop sitting beside him.

"Someone get that lazy lout working," Krystos barked. "I won't have slovenly, layabouts on this ship."

The object of his attention jerked awake, fearful green eyes darting up to the bridge. Untidy blonde hair whipped back from his sunbruned face as a sailor hauled him to his feet. The lad had grown almost as tall as the man motioning him back to work, but his emaciated body covered in lash marks, spoke louder than words.

Krystos nodded in satisfaction as the ship's boy started scrubbing the deck as ordered.

Birch shook his head, wondering what the lad had done to deserve the captain's wrath. All he knew was that he'd been recruited at the same time as the rest of the men, a silent, secretive affair. None were told who their fellow cre-members would be until the day they set sail. All they knew was that they would be handsomely paid, and that the vessel was one of the best.

### They hadn't been disappointed on either count. The Crystal Rose was as beautiful as she was fast. The sixty-four men who started the journey had seen lands aplenty, traded in exotic wares, witnessed strange and wondrous sights, but as far as Birch was concerned, there was no place like home.

"Land ho!" the lookout screeched from the crows nest.

Krystos shielded his eyes to peer out across the ocean, seeing nothing but horizon. "Get me the spy glass," he commanded.

Birch obliged, handing the long, magnifying cylinder to his captain. Krystos held it to his eye, squinting through it. "I don't see anything... No wait... That's not land..."

"I see it," Birch said. "Thank the Goddess."

"It's not land, you fool... It's a storm cloud."

"Do you think it's heading this way?" Birch asked in concern.

Krystos scanned the horizon again. "It's getting bigger, so it must be coming this way. See that the men get to their watches, and secure anything that isn't tied down. I don't care to lose any more valuable equipment from this ship."

If there was one thing Krystos hated, and that was storms. He knew it was a terrible fear for a ship's captain to have, but even after all this time at sea, he kept to his cabin when a storm struck, leaving the running of his ship in the capable hands of his first mate.

The cliff sheared away into a vertical drop of many hundreds of metres. Below, the ocean foamed and boiled, whipped into a frenzey by erratic winds not knowing which way to blow. Above, thick black clouds boiled in outrage, bright tongues of lightning stabbing the earth below.

A solitary figure stood atop the cliff, arms outstretched, dark-skinned face turned skyward. He was clad in a blood red robe, a matching cape whipping out behind him. The slender youth had dyed his black hair a multitude of colours.

Never one to start small, the young wizard had summoned the elements to lash the coastline with vicious ferocity. Sheeting rain drove into him, but the hard pins of water felt like salve against his skin. The hilt of a black sword was visible above the scabbard at his side.

Had anyone dared to venture into the swirling tempest, they would have cowered in fear at the sight of the leer on the boy's face. Dark power sizzled through him, exploding from his fingertips, darkening the clouds even further.

"See, Dragonfire! See through my eyes. See the power I have over the elements!" the youth cried in glee.

### Very good, Leonado, the voice spoke from within the lad's mind. If only you could wield such power over the earth, I'd have you moving mountains by now.

Banished forever into darkness, Leonado's teacher could only see the world through the eyes of his pupil. Leonado had no idea how long Dragonfire had languished in his dark prison, but he could never escape, never be free.

Soft, whispered words in his dreams had lured Leonado high into the mountains that loomed over his home town. Dragonfire's lair turned out to be a dismal, barren place, littered with the bodies of the dead. Leonado recalled wondering if they had been failed apprentices, but of course he'd never dared to ask. Looking upon Dragonfire had also been out of the question.

To this day, he remained a voice inside the youth's head, a constant companion, prodding and coercing him to do things he still found disdainful.

### Dragonfire's answer to Leonado's reluctance was always the same. Do you want to spend a lifetime learning the arts, or do you want to be a powerful mage before you're twenty?

So Leonado performed his teacher's darker tasks. He had left to study magic, hadn't he? His father would still be treating him like a child, telling him he had to wait, always to wait. He would learn all there was to learn from Dragonfire, and then wrench himself free... somehow.

His magically enhanced eyesight spotted something way out to sea. No normal person would have been able to see past the headland in such a storm, but this was Leonado's creation. He could see and move through it as though it wasn't even there. Flinging his arms upwards, he rose up into the air off the cliff face and flew out across the ocean.

### Where are you going, Leonado? Dragonfire demanded.

### There's something out to sea. I want to know what it is, he replied.

### Just a ship. None of our concern. Let it flounder, Dragonfire commanded.

Leonado forced himself to ignore him. Even though the pull of Dragonfire's mind hurt when he took his own path, Leonado had learned that Dragonfire could not control his actions. Did this mean he might be able to cast Dragonfire off once he was powerful enough to move mountains? He hoped so.

Leonado longed to return to his father a fully trained mage, proof that one didn't need to spend a lifetime studying from old dusty books. He wanted to become powerful enough to show the entire nation that magic users should be respected instead of shunned and banished.

His father was only allowed to practice his arts because the king needed a healer. A mere healer. The king had no need for the incredible powers Leonado knew his father posessed.

What a waste! Tending ailments in the king's court! Leonado couldn't think of a more dismal future. Dragonfire must have sensed his disenchantment. Why else would he have chosen him? His banished teacher had told Leonado that the power flowed strongly within him, that he'd never had a pupil so skilled and dedicated.

After only a few weeks of silent training within the cave system that held him captive, he had sent Leonado back out into the world to test his new-found abilities.

At Dragonfire's command he'd sent farm houses tumbling to the ground, their occupants fleeing the rubble in shock and terror. Trying to move anything more earth bound than the trees had been harder to manage, much to Dragonfire's consternation.

Leonado drew closer to the floundering vessel. His dark eyes widened in stunned amazement.

The ship was incredible!

Three tall masts jutted into the lightning-streaked sky. It was several times larger than the best Avion warship. She must have traveled from a world far far away. The signs of passage were obvious; worn timbers, tarnished gunwales, patched and torn sails.

And now she risked oblivion amidst the storm he'd created. She rode mountainous waves, water washing pale-skinned, fair haired men from her decks.

They looked as alien to Leonado as the beautiful ship they sailed. Leonado knew in an instant that he couldn't let her go under. He was unable to stop the tempest. Once cast, this particular spell would have to run its course. But he could save the ship.

Watching another pale head disappear under the waves. Leonado landed on the pitching deck, keeping himself steady with the will of his mind.

### What to you want with the ship? Dragonfire asked, his voice amused.

### To possess her. Isn't she beautiful?

### I would seek out her captain if I were you.

Yes, we must get rid of him.

Never act in haste, Leonado. He might be of some use.

Yes, he would be able to tell me a great deal, Leonado thought. But how do I find such a man amongst so many?

Try the one giving orders, Dragonfire suggested snidely.

Leonado grimaced at the chastisement. He glanced about the deck, and saw a man of middle years yelling for a group of sailors to winch down a set of sails. a futile task, considering the ropes were as tangled as a snake pit.

That can't be the captain, Leonado thought. Anyone who commands a ship as beautiful as this would be a sight to behold. The distressed sailors barely noticed the dark figure in their midst as he headed below, floating down corridors towards the stern.

A wave of terror washed over Leonado so powerful he thought it was his own. Then he realized he had nothing to fear; this was his storm. This meant it had to be someone else's fear, someone endowed with the ability to transmit thought waves, someone like himself.

Could they have a mage aboad? Leonado wondered. That prospect worried him, for he still hadn't mastered all the arts. He knew he would be out of his depth were he to face battle with a fully trained magic-user.

The source of the fear led him to a heavy oak door. Leonado pushed it open, revealing a large ornate cabin of polished timbers. A bank of windows rattled and groaned as wind and rain threatened to shatter them. The glittering chandelier above his head shivered as though suffering a violent chill.

A slender, yellow-haired man lay upon the bed, his face buried in his pillow, hands clinging to the supports bolted to the wall behind the bedhead.

It can't happen like this, his thoughts screamed. I'm too young to die. My poor, poor ship. All is lost. All is lost.

Why are you such a coward? Leonado asked in disgust, stepping closer to the bed. Around him the ship pitched and rolled, but he remained steady and upright.

The man lifted his head, and a pale, unlined face peered up at him. Despite the helpless terror stamped into his features, Leonado found his exotic appearance intriguing.

"Wh- who are you? And how did you get abroad my ship?" he asked, his pale brows drawing together above eyes as blue and cold as a winter's sky.

Even though Leonado didn't understand a word of his foreign tongue, he heard the young man's thoughts.

That's immaterial at the moment, he answered. I asked you first.

"How do you do that? Talk to me straight into my mind."

You did it before I did. That's how I found you. Now answer my question.

"What question?"

Why are you such a coward? Why are you in here when your men are out there dying?

"I – I hate storms, but this one seems worse than any I've encountered before. Something came over me when it stuck, something... unnatural... It seemed to sap all my strength, my will to fight... I'd rather go down with my ship than drown out there."

The captain did have some magical powers, Leonado realized, but had never learned to harness them, hence his helpless response to the storm's destructive wail. Well, Leonado wasn't going to teach him. He didn't want or need another mage around.

Shall I kill him for you? he suggested to Dragonfire.

NO! Dragonfire's painful bellow inside his head brought tears to his eyes. His latent abilities may be of use to us. He might even be able to wield Darkfire for us.

Leonado's hand automatically went to the sword-hilt at his side. He caressed the cool, dark metal with his fingertips, longing to feel its dormant power, but Leonado didn't have the touch Darkfire craved. He had no affinity with the demon within the blade. Dragonfire despaired that the sword would starve before it found a soul mate.

I won't hand Darkfire over to another. I'll find a way to communicate with her, Leonado vowed.

If it was meant to be it would have happened by now. She does not know you. She will only fight for one with a heart like her own. Let the captain take the sword and we shall see, Dragonfire commanded.

Leonado felt Dragonfire's painful coercion clouding his mind, but he stood firm. You can't control me, Dragonfire.

Oh yes I can. I've given you free reign until now. Don't force me to show you my true strength. I can assure you, you won't like it one little bit, his teacher boomed inside his mind.

Once again Leonado felt the tortuous pressure bearing down on his mind, bending him to Dragonfire's will. The youth started to tremble, fear washing over him, but nstead of fueling his terror, Dragonfire decided to console him. You're by far the strongest pupil I have ever trained. That's why I thought Darkfire would respond to you.

"Who are you talking to, little man?" the captain asked, swallowing his own terror down. "Who do you argue with over a sword? Look at it." He lifted a hand to point at the weapon. "It's old and tarnished. We haven't fought with archaic weapons like that in years." He sat up, releasing his other hand from the bedhead. The sudden lurching of the ship sent him toppling forward.

Offended by the way he spoke about his enchanted sword, Leonado moved aside to let him slide across the floor. He hit the desk on the other side of the room, his head cracking against its leg. His neck snapped by the impact, killing him in an instant.

Serves you right for sneering, Leonado thought in contempt, turning away from the crumpled body. I couldn't have done it better had I tried, he thought as the ship keeled again, dangerously so. He would lose her if he didn't set her to rights.

Spreading out his arms, he extended his calm centre outwards to include the ship, the power flowing from him in warm waves. Its violent rocking motion stilled, until it sat amidst the tempest like an island.

For once Dragonfire remained silent. Perhaps he knew Leonado hadn't killed the captain on purpose, and saw no need to reprimand him.

Turning to leave the room, he halted. Something strange was happening to the captain's body. A shroud seemed to be forming above it, until Leonado realized that it was the man's spirit breaking free.

The young wizard gaped in horror as the ghost rose from the crumpled form on the floor. Now completely naked, he stared down at his discarded body, his face contorting with emotion.

"What have you done?" he asked brokenly. Krystos had left his body many times before, floating free of constraints through the mists above his ship. All he had to do was will himself to relax, and he would slide from his cumbersome form to drift wherever the will took him.

He couldn't remember when he'd first broken free; it was simply something he'd always been able to do. Whilst other men sought bliss in a bottle, Krystos found it by slipping into spirit form. He never did it for more than an hour or two, fearing that if he left his body too long, he might never be able to return.

Now he stared down at it, broken and lifeless, and knew it would never be his again.

"What do I do now?" he cried in despair. "You've killed me!" he screamed, flying at the stranger.

The young wizard felt icy inhuman fingers sliding through his flesh.

Dragonfire, he screamed. Help me!

You brought this upon yourself, young Leonado. I think you should deal with this on your own.

No! Help me! Help me! The coldness ate into him as he flailed helplessly against the being trying to inhabit his body.

Don't fight like that! Dragonfire ordered. Use your mind. You're a wizard in training. He is not. Ward him off.

How? Leonado cried.

Haven't you learnt anything? Use the magic that controls the mind.

But I never mastered it.

Perhaps now is the time.

Despite the icy tendrils already eating into his brain, he forced himself to concentrate on the power of thought. Instead of trying to control another's mind, he fought to keep his own. He built an imaginary wall around it. But no sooner had he laid the last brick, claws were tearing it down again. The pain was excruciating, but Leonado refused to give in to it. He kept rebuilding the wall.

I'll do this as long as it takes, he gritted mentally.

At that moment a sailor burst into the cabin. He was young and fair like most of the men Leonado had seen. "Captain! Captain! You won't believe what's -" He stopped dead at the sight of Leonado. "Who are you?" Then his gaze fell on the captain's sprawled body.

To his surprise and relief, Leonado suddenly found himself free of the powerful force trying to take over his mind and body. He saw it dart towards the tall sailor. Leonado watched in fascination as the captain's spirit disappeared into the body of his crewman. The wide, darting eyes stilled as they came to rest on Leonado.

Krystos sighed in relief to finally be anchored again, even if it wasn't his own treasured body. He knew he would mourn it later, but right now he wondered at how he'd done it. Was it possible that as long as he could find a host, he would never die?

Nothing remained of the man whose body he'd stolen. His memories, his thoughts, they were all dead. Krystos felt like his usual self, but he only had to glance across at the mirror to see who he was; Dirk, a common sailor. No one important. His own perfect body would decay and be no more, but Krystos would live on. He was free of his terrible past at last. He could be whoever he wanted.

He could go home.

The youth knew nothing of his life before this instant in time; not his name nor how he came to be in this predicament. Neither did he know how long he had been floundering in the endless ocean, his limbs growing heavier and heavier from the struggle to remain afloat.

He must have been aboard some kind of vessel, perhaps with other people, but he could see no sign of them now. Had they already drowned or were they struggling to keep afloat like him?

The back of his head ached. He must have been hit by something. Perhaps the very thing which forced him into the ocean. But what had stolen his memory, his name?

I don't want to die like this, he thought in despair, not knowing where I came from or where I was going.

A wave of weariness swept through him, and he swallowed a mouthful of salty liquid. Alerted again to the need to keep afloat he started treading water, but the energy it required had become unbearable. All he felt was pain, the pain of continuous exertion.

Again the youth lost concentration. This time he went under. His lungs filled with water, and he flailed his arms, kicking his legs, trying to propel himself upwards. He could see the surface, bright sunlight reflecting off the water. Small fish flittered past, their slippery little bodies colliding with his, but the struggle had become too great, and the urge to fight for air left him.

His body grew numb, and he resigned himself to death. Only a moment ago he had been clinging to life with every tortuous breath. Now he just wanted to die. He felt as though he'd been drugged, given something sweet to lull him to sleep.

But he didn't succumb, not yet. A larger animal body brushed against his midriff, gently pushing him upwards.

Then they broke the surface. The sudden onslaught of fresh air made the youth gasp and retch, gulping in air and water at once.

As his breathing slowly returned to normal, the young man became conscious of lying face down across the sea-creature's back. He forced his weary eyes open. For a moment the sun glittering against the water blinded him. He squinted, trying to discover what had saved him, but because of the way he lay with his cheek pressed against soft, slippery skin, all he saw was rippling green peaks of water contrasting with the piercing blue sky.

But then another creature surfaced nearby. It shot out of the water, arching into the air. With its short, round snout, the youth deduced that it was a mammal. How he knew this he had no idea. He even remembered what these animals were called.

Impulsively he hugged the dolphin keeping him afloat. It responded with a few soft clicks of reassurance. Even though he couldn't understand their words, he grasped their general meaning. But why had they rescued him from certain death? He communicated his gratitude, his fingers caressing the creature's smooth, wet skin.

After clinging gratefully to the sea creature for a time, the young man noticed a different shade of green from the corner of his eye. He saw tree tops, but they weren't a species he recognized. Their leaves were enormous. Long with pointed ridges, they drooped over slender, ringed trunks. As his two rescuers swum closer to the shore, wide expanse of blinding white sand came into view.

Suddenly the other dolphin butted him in the side. The push made him release the companion, and he slipped from its back. He cursed, flailing his arms, but then his feet touched bottom. Firm, soft sand sifted through his toes.

The youth struggled towards the beach, his movements awkward and uncoordinated. A few times he turned to seek out his rescuers, but they seemed to have vanished as magically as they had appeared.

He stumbled, his knees scraping bottom, and he dropped onto all fours, watching the sand swirl around his fingers. He crouched there, wet tendrils of hair dripping water into his eyes, the wonder of his rescue filling his mind.

He had been moments from death, already welcoming it. Then the creatures of the sea had come, bringing him to shore. As he lifted his head and stared along the deserted beach, he realized he must have been saved for a reason. An unknown deity wanted him here in this alien land.

Collapsing onto the sand, he rolled onto his back and let the sun warm his chilled body. It kissed his face, caressed his waterlogged skin, and thawed the icicles from his blood. He stretched out his arms, welcoming the feel of firm ground beneath him.

He rested there until the sun hovered low in the sky. He sat up when the afternoon breeze started to chill him. Hugging his knees to his chest, he watched the bright orb slide over the horizon. The beauty of the sunset mesmerized him.

A large white seabird glided across the water. Its shrieking call echoed inside the young man's head. It sounded like a name, and he jumped up with a start.

"I know who I am. I remember my name," he gasped, suddenly filled with hope.
TWO

THE DEMON IN THE SWORD

Krystos sat upon the embankment, staring dejectedly at his ship moored in the sunlit bay. Somehow the small dark man had brought her here, this wreck of a once great warship. She looked damaged beyond repair. Two of the three masts had been ripped away. A great hole gaped open like a wound at her side above the waterline. Debris littered the decks.

Already the survivors were preparing to head inland to try their luck in this steamy hot land. Fewer then ten men had survived. Neither the first mate nor the ship's boy were amongst them. Krystos mourned neither. Instead he ached for the loss of his body. He couldn't get used to being someone nobody looked up to, a simple sailor only known as Dirk.

Krystos turned his gaze away from the labouring men and surveyed the countryside around him. Short trees with long trunks and huge green leaves crowded close to the beach. The undergrowth looked dense and impenetrable. Krystos couldn't see a path or any sign of habitation.

To the right he saw a steep but climbable embankment, and to the left a tall cliff cast its dark shadow over that half of the beach. On top of it stood the short dark youth whose name he still didn't know. Too busy salvaging what he could from the ship he hadn't paid him any further attention. Now Krystos wondered if he could perhaps use him somehow. He had rescued his ship, what was left of her, somehow steering her to this safe cove. There had to be a reason for it. And how had he managed to climb to the top of that cliff so fast? Krystos wondered. Did he have a sturdy rope affixed somewhere?

Krystos scrambled to his feet, and left the group of men sorting through the debris on the beach. He scuffed through the sand, approaching the cliff face. It was too sheer to climb, not a foothold in sight. He couldn't see a rope either. He stepped away from it, peering upwards. What in the name of the Goddess was the little man doing up there, standing so silent and still? Conversing with his inner companion again?

"For heavens sake Dirk! Are you deaf, or something?" Krystos turned to see one of his crewmembers hurrying towards him. "I called you at least half a dozen times."

"Well, what do you want?" he retorted.

"No need to take that tone with me. You're not the captain, you know."

Krystos grimaced, wondering how to take command back. Too dazed until now to even think about it, he wondered whether changing bodies had something to do with his disorientation. "He should be buried though. We ought to go back and cast his body out to sea, give him a sailor's burial."

"Whatever for? The tyrant should just rot with his cursed ship."

Krystos lunged at him, grasping him by both shoulders.

"Hey!" the sailor flailed at him.

"How could you talk about your captain like that?"

"Easy now that the blagguard's gone. Let go of me, dammit." He managed to wrench himself free. Once he was out of range he spat on the ground. "I was going to ask you if you were ready to go, but I'll be dammed if you're coming with us now. Stay here and rot with your blasted captain."

He turned and returned to the group on the beach. Krystos saw them cast furtive glances back at him as they hefted their makeshift packs and set off towards the embankment. He continued to watch them as they scrambled up it. When they disappeared into the dense foliage he turned away.

### They'll be fodder for the jungle beasts before the day is through.

Krystos swung round to see the short dark man standing behind him.

"How did you get down so quick? And more to the point how did you get up there in the first place?"

### He merely grinned, his teeth white against his dark face. We have some business to discuss. I think we should start with introducing one another. My name is Leonado. And you are?

"Captain Rose. Captain Krystos Rose." He motioned over his shoulder. "They couldn't see you, could they?"

### I made certain of that.

"Who are you?"

### I already told you. My name is Leonado.

"Don't get smart with me, you little ink blot," Krystos warned.

### I'd rather you didn't talk. I understand your thoughts, but I don't understand your strange, harsh tongue.

Krystos jammed his fists into his hips. "What in the name of the Goddess are you talking about?"

### Leonado sighed loudly. Have you seen me open my mouth lately? I talk directly into your mind. So why don't you do the same. Your brash language only interferes with our conversation.

### "I'll try." I'll try, he thought the words to himself.

### This man wasn't nearly so stupid when I first met him, Leonado said to Dragonfire.

Krystos scowled at him. I heard that, you little pock mark.

### Better. Much better, Leonado said. He lifted his slender, brown skinned arms. Now that you know who I am, I shall show you what I am; a wizard of the highest callibre. A genius to the core. Watch Dragonfire, while I wield the magic you taught me upon this tall pale man from across the sea.

Krystos involuntarily stepped back, feeling a strange, heady warmth rush over him as the dark man flung his arms forward. It continued to pulse through his veins even after Leonado had dropped his arms back to his sides. He shook his head in bewilderment. What have you done?

Look at you skin and see for yourself, Leonado replied.

Krystos glanced down at his hands and gasped in horror. "You've burnt me!"

Hardly. Leonado snorted. Does it hurt? Is smoke spiraling from your fingertips? I've merely turned you into one of us. Look at your hair.

Gingerly Krystos reached a brown-skinned hand round to bring forward his sailor's queue. Not as long as his own, he had to strain to see Dirk's hair. It was as black as pitch. Not only did he no longer inhabit his own body, he looked like an alien. How could he possible return home looking like this?

"This had better be reversible you meddling son of a swine herder," he snapped.

Leonado flipped a dismissive hand. Of course, but why you would want to is beyond me. I think you look much better that way.

"That's a matter of opinion," Krystos growled, but he had to admit, he was somewhat in awe of the little man's powers. Now how can I use that to my advantage? He asked himself.

Leonado was asking himself the same question, but for entirely different reasons. Dragonfire's insistence that the sea captain should lay his hand upon Darkfire was really starting to wear him down.

If he can wield the sword for us think of all the advantages, think of the wealth we could gain, the power, his teacher said, once again exerting pressure onto Leonado with the will of his mind.

Power I would have to share with him, Leonado retorted, grimacing against the pain.

Would that be so bad? You're like an only child. You need a companion. Thump. Thump. Thump went the hammer inside Leonado's head.

I was an only child, Leonado scoffed. I don't trust the captain.

You're just sore that you can't be the one to wield Darkfire.

What if I am? Leonado admitted. I am an only child after all.

Are you arguing about that ugly old sword again? Krystos asked irritably.

"All right!" Leonado snapped in his own tongue, the pressure finally getting the better of him. "Here! Take the dammed thing." He yanked the sword free of its scabbard. The blade was as tarnished as the hilt, and barely looked long enough to fill its sheath. He threw it at the sailor, who had to duck and fling his hand up to avoid the arc of the blade.

Krystos caught it, feeling the jagged metal scrape his hand as he grasped hold of it. With a yelp he quickly transferred the hilt to his other hand, staring in anger at the red trail of blood smeared across his palm.

Something happened to the sword as Krystos held it awkwardly away from him. The blood shimmered against the blade like jewels. Then it sunk into the metal as though the sword was drinking it.

The blade lengthened and broadened, becoming so dark it almost seemed to swallow the light around it. Krystos thought he could feel it begin to pulse in his grasp as though it had a life of his own. The sensation vibrated through him, and he tried to fling the weapon from him, but it suddenly seemed welded to his hand, an extension of himself.

"What's happening?" he demanded in fear.

She's bonding with you, Leonado said sadly.

She? Who are you talking about?

She is Darkfire, the demon in the sword. She will fight for you, and only you.

The black pulsing blade suddenly seemed beautiful to Krystos. He felt as though nothing could harm him. A white gull swept down low over their heads, and the sword guided his arm towards it, slicing through its puny body in an instant. The two bloody halves of the bird dropped onto the sand, and Krystos felt the demon's thrill of the kill sizzle through him. It verged on ecstasy, the feeling he experienced on release of sexual tension.

He dropped to his knees, and the sword slipped from his fingers, her duty done. She had made her first kill in decades. She was spent, as was Krystos.

Leonado watched on, a mixture of hate and awe churning his gut. It isn't fair, he raged. It should have been me.

Oh do stop whining, Leo. He might be able to control Darkfire, but you still have the magic.

What's to stop you from leaving me to train him? Leonado retorted.

Because I chose you to take me back out into the world? But he can help us have some real fun. Let's play my little playmates.

"My name is Alecsis," the youth repeated to himself, as he trudged along the hot, sandy shore. "My name is Alecsis, and I am a sailor."

The second affirmation he wasn't entirely certain of, but it made sense. He'd regained consciousness in the water. Where else could he have been but abroad a ship?

"I night have been a passenger, or a merchant's son." Clasping hands to his aching head, he muttered. "Why can I remember my name but not who I am?"

"Oh I give up," he grumbled, deciding to return his attention to his surroundings. This was his second day on land. He'd been making his way south along the coastline, the dull throb at the base of his skull gradually easing. It only resurfaced when he tried to remember his past. Best to let sleeping dogs lie, he thought, wondering how he could recall such a saying but not how he came to learn it.

He reached the end of yet another beach, and began the laborious climb up the embankment, which he suspected would only lead to another beach. He still had not seen any sign of human habitation, and wondered if he should head inland instead. He glanced dubiously into the dense foliage to his right. It looked dark and uninviting, but perhaps that was the way to go. It might even yield food.

In response his stomach gave a long growl of hunger. Alecsis only had to look down at himself to realize how famished he was. Merchant's son indeed! Whoever he was, he hadn't held a position of importance. His ribs jutted out under his sun-burned skin, and healing whip welts crises-crossed his skinny shoulders. Perhaps he'd been a prisoner, captured for a crime so heinous it would be best if he didn't remember it.

Alecsis reached the top of the embankment, and looked around. He had been right. Another beach stretched out ahead of him, and dense jungle crowded the top of the shore. He cast his eyes further afield, and noticed cliffs in the distance. Perhaps they might yield habitation, he thought. But first he had to find something to eat and drink. Rain water from a drying rock pool had been his last source of sustenance.

With some trepidation Alecsis headed into the undergrowth. He had only taken a few steps before discovering the reason for his reluctance. He could no longer see the sun, and had no idea which way to go. One could walk in endless circles and never even know. Even the beach seemed to have disappeared.

Alecsis immediately retraced his steps, but a bright orange orb hanging from a nearby branch made him stop. Could this be food? he asked himself. He plucked it from the branch, noticing several more dangling from several other trees. He took those too, and darted back into the sunlight with a loud sigh of relief. The jungle had felt so claustrophobic, he was certain he would find no human habitation therein.

Back on the small headland, he examined the fruit, digging his fingernail into its soft bright surface. Juice gushed out, and he immediately brought it to his parched lips. If it's poisonous, this will surely be my final meal, he thought wryly, gulping it down. It tasted sweet, unlike anything he'd ever eaten before. How do I know this? he asked himself, when he can't even remember what he did the day before last. It seemed some things were just there; what he liked and disliked; his language flowing so freely from his lips. He split the fruit open and devoured the soft flesh within.

Alecsis continued to trudge along until it grew dark. Again he sought a safe niche amongst the rocks at the top of a beach, placing several large palm leaves over him to ward against the night chill. Luckily the temperature only dropped several degrees, and Alecsis hadn't stirred the previous night.

This time however, he had trouble falling asleep. He lay there on the cool sand listening to the strange animal noises emanating from the jungle above him. They hissed and moaned eerily, conjuring up all kinds of vicious images within his young mind.

Eventually he crept from his sleeping place and sat on the sand, watching the ocean's ebb and flow under the moonlit sky. He realized it was probably light enough to keep traveling. Not a cloud obscured the star studded sky. If he wasn't so frightened and alone, he might have thought it a beautiful night.

Scrambling to his feet, he began walking. Again he cast his gaze up at the cliffs ahead of him. The moon lit up the white stone crags, but their grassy tops vanished into the night. Them why could he see a light winking in the distance? Alecsis strained to see its source, but it was nothing more than a pin prick in the darkness. If he hadn't known the cliffs were there, he would have dismissed it for another star. Could it be someone's house? Keeping it firmly in his sights, Alecsis continued along the beach, but there were so many twists and turns in the headland that he eventually lost sight of it. He did, however, recall its general direction, and kept walking into the dawn.

Another morning downpour soaked him through, and he drank heartily from the water drenching him. Before long the clouds moved out to sea, and the sun broke free, scorching the sand and Alecsis's skin. He plucked a large palm leaf and draped it over his head, shading his eyes and part of his body from the sun's glare.

It seemed to take half the day to reach the base of the cliff face. When he got there, Alecsis wondered how on earth he was ever going to make it to the top. It looked too sheer to climb, with far too few footholds for his liking. He continued along its base, disappointment bringing tears to his eyes. He dashed them back in irritation. He had made it to shore with the aid of the dolphins, so surely he wasn't meant to perish on this forsaken beach.

Something long and thin dangling down the cliff caught his eye up ahead, and he hurried towards it.

"I don't believe it!" he gasped, scrambling up to grab hold of the end of the rope ladder. "This has to lead to the light I saw." The footholds looked sturdy enough, and Alecsis didn't hesitate. He began to climb. Before long his skinny arms began to ache, but the top of the cliff looked no closer.

He chanced a glance down, noticing with terror just how far he'd come. For a few moments he dangled there, trying to calm his pounding heart and rest his weary arms. Then he set off again, taking it more slowly. The rope creaked and moaned under his weight, and the wind buffeted him, lodging terror in his throat.

"All I need is for this thing to fray and tear the moment I reach the last rung," he muttered under his breath. "How much further, dammit?"

When he thought his aching limbs could take it no more, he saw the top. With one final burst of energy he scrambled over the edge of the cliff. Alecsis lay there on the grass, gasping for breath.

Eventually he hauled himself to his knees and sat up. He looked about, but the promised homestead was nowhere in sight. All he saw was a wide expanse of grass, and more thick forest in the distance. This looked different to the jungle where he'd found the fruit. The trees were taller and more widely spaced, with branches and leaves rather than palms.

The sun hovered low on the horizon when Alecsis headed into the forest. To his surprise and joy he saw a clearly marked trail leading through the trees. He started walking along it, darkness settling in around him long before it would have on the beach. This place too rustled and hissed with strange animal noises, but no creatures crossed Alecsis's path.

Before long day gave way to night, but enough moonlight filtered through the tall trees to light the path winding its way along ahead of him. Weariness dogged his every step. If he didn't find the homestead soon, he would have to curl up right here on the road. His blistered bare feet ached and his skin continued to burn even though the sun had long since gone down.

A light winked on through the trees, and had he the energy, Alecsis would have whooped for joy. Instead he stumbled towards it, stepping into a clearing that housed a barn, a small cottage and several lean-tos.

The gentle glow of a lamp dimmed by a billowing curtain lured him on, but when he stood in front of the little house, shyness consumed him. What if he was turned away? Alecsis feared having to return to the forest to sleep, and he certainly didn't have the energy to go all the way back to the cliff.

He glanced around and made a decision. He would spend the night in the barn and approach the home's occupants in the morning, fresh and rested. As he pulled open the barn-door, a cacophony of noises burst forth, as every animal greeted him in its own language.

"It's all right," Alecsis whispered. "I won't cause you any harm. I merely want to share your barn."

They stilled almost immediately, and Alecsis grinned to himself. "If only I really could talk to the animals, I'd make it safely through the jungle."

He saw a verity of beasts, recognizing two cows, a hatch of hens cackling in one corner, and a pen full of pigs snorting in another. Halfway along he came across a stall which housed a beautiful white stallion.

"Hello handsome," Alecsis said softly, stopping in front of the magnificent beast.

The animal lifted his regal head to regard Alecsis with wise dark eyes. Ride me, his gaze seemed to imply. Ride me like the wind.

Alecsis looked him over, noting his muscular legs and powerful flanks. "I wish I could, but you don't belong to me."

We'll ride together. Ride like the wind.

For a moment Alecsis wondered if the horse was actually talking to him, but then he reasoned that exhaustion had to be the cause of the strange urge he suddenly felt to jump upon the beast's massive back. He reached out and started stroking the stallion's sleek head. The horse stepped closer, nudging Alecsis's shoulder. He giggled as soft horse hair tickled his bare flesh. The beast snorted, fanning Alecsis with warm breath.

"Is there anywhere for me to sleep in this barn?" he asked no one in particular. The horse lifted his head, whinnied and nudged his nose upward.

"Of course. The hayloft," Alecsis said, noticing the ladder leading to a landing above the horse's stall. "You're a genius, Windrider." He patted the noble head again, barely conscious of the name he had called the animal.

Alecsis forced his uncooperative limbs up the ladder, and crawled into a corner, making a make-shift bed amongst the hay. He closed his eyes, suddenly feeling safe and warm. Below him the stallion whinnied once more. Around him the animals drifted back to sleep, and so did Alecsis.

Krystos turned in a full circle, surveying Leonado's handiwork. "It's perfect," he breathed, turning to face the red-clad sorcerer. His state room had been returned to its former glory. The wood panels shone. Gold fixtures gleamed, and the crystal chandelier glittered as late afternoon sunlight filtered through the windows.

Leonado grunted in reply. When he'd offered to help repair the ship, he hadn't known it would be such a long arduous chore. The captain had to oversee every item, making sure it met his satisfaction. At this rate we'll be working on this dammed ship for weeks, he grumbled to Dragonfire.

Patience young Leonado. Why do you suppose wizards live so long? To fit all the learning they need into a lifetime. You wanted this ship, remember.

I'm not so sure I do now. He glanced back at the captain, who was now surveying his appearance in the full length, gilt-edged mirror.

I swear that man is more vein than you are, Leo, Dragonfire sniggered.

Leonado didn't bother dignifying that with a reply. I think I'll see to the evening meal, he announced heading for the door.

Krystos lifted a hand, returning his attention to his reflection. Trying to get used to this new body was proving quite a feat. Every time he looked into the glass he saw this dark stranger. Even his eyes were brown. Yet the new look fascinated him.

Dirk had been a common sailor, used to hard physical work. His body was leaner and more muscular than Krystos's had been. Every sailor ended up with scars and blemishes from the hard life at sea, but the rich brown skin seemed to hide any marks Dirk might have once had. As for the black hair, it shimmered about his broad shoulders like a soft dark curtain.

Perhaps he could get used to this new look after all. He'd donned his best black trousers and white shirt, teaming it with a soft velvet vest. His knee high boots shone and a dainty gold earring glimmered in his lobe.

Satisfied that he once again looked commanding, Krystos left his cabin, locking the door behind him with the silver key he'd taken from his own body. Returning to find the cold lifeless corpse had burned a great hole in his heart. Leonado had helped place him in a wooden crate. Then they had taken the only undamaged rowboat out to sea to drop the casket into the ocean. The sailor's words on the beach returned to haunt him as his body disappeared beneath the waves. Had they really thought so little of him?

It made him question his motives for returning home. At first all he'd wanted to do was flee the city of his youth, but the further he traveled, the more homesick he became. Krystos knew he'd never regain what had been stolen from him. His brother had seen to that. He thought his command of The Crystal Rose would console him, but what good was a ship without men?

Krystos walked down the ruined corridor to his private dining room. So much still remained to be done. Leonado could only concentrate on reconstructing one item or part of the ship at a time. He didn't know what it previously looked like, and Krystos had to explain everything to him. More often than not he got it wrong. He'd even made two damaged cannons fire backwards. The little wizard had never seen such weaponry before. Hardly surprising considering he valued the great black sword so highly.

It surprised Krystos at how quickly he had accepted Leonado's strange powers. It made him wonder if there were others with such abilities. Perhaps this was the only way to survive in this backward world, by wielding magic to get what one wanted.

He entered the restored dining room. The table had been set and steaming plates of food stood upon it. Several bottles of his best wine were chilling in the crystal ice packs.

This stuff is amazing, Leonado remarked, lifting out one of the chilled bottles. How does it stay cold so long?

Krystos shrugged. I really don't know, but they've been like that for years.

Leonado's brows shot up. Truly! I'd like to see your world one day.

Is that what this is about? You want to go a traveling?

### Leonado motioned to the table. Why don't we discuss this over our meal. I may be able to start a fire with a mere snap of my fingers but I can't keep food hot forever.

Krystos took his place at the head of the table and draped his napkin into his lap.

There's not much food left aboard, and most of its spoiling. I suppose you can only keep it chilled for so long, Leonado remarked.

### Actually, it can stay fresh forever, were there only a few people to eat it. But with a crew of sixty odd, we needed to restock every few months, Krystos answered, slicing into the slab of meat on his plate. It tasted tough, but was edible.

### Leonado lifted his glass. Shall we toast to our new working relationship?

Krystos made no move to pick up his own goblet. And exactly what kind of relationship do you have in mind, little man?

### Dragonfire has set his heart on pirating. It's normally a hard life, but with a ship like this, I believe we'll make a fortune.

Krystos shook his head in disbelief. Use The Crystal Rose for pirating! She's a respectable vessel. Every man that sailed with me earned his keep, and we traded for our goods honestly.

And where are they now, those that survived? You have no one to sail this ship.

I have you.

I can't do it on my own. You rub it in ever time I make a mistake with the reconstruction.

### Out of curiosity where do you propose to find these pirates? Krystos asked.

Prison Isle.

### Krystos's eyebrows shot up. Recruit cut-throats and thieves! You have got to be joking. I'm not taking criminals abroad my ship.

### They're not all criminals, not in the true sense of the word. Most are poor misunderstood souls who were in the wrong place at the wrong time, Leonado said airily.

### Weak minded individuals who didn't have the sense to run when the going was good, you mean, Krystos snorted. And what is there in this land to pirate anyhow?

We can steal from trade ships and seaside ports. We'll divest them of pearl hauls, money, jewels, pretty damsels if that kind of thing takes your fancy. We can create such a climate of terror my countrymen won't know what's hit them.

### Krystos stared at the animated face, stunned at the malevolence within the young man. Is this you speaking, or the one you call Dragonfire?

### Leonado sighed. Mainly Dragonfire. He's bored with trying to make me move mountains, so he's giving me a holiday, as long as he can have a bit of fun along the way.

### Who exactly is this Dragonfire? Krystos asked. He finally took a sip of his wine, but it seemed to have lost his flavour.

### My teacher. He taught me virtually all I know about magic.

But who is he really?

Leonado shook his head. Only what he's told me, that he was banished and can only see the world through the eyes of his pupils.

### I don't trust him, Krystos asserted. And I don't trust his sword either. It isn't natural.

But she bonded with you. She'll never let any harm come to you. As long as you wield Darkfire, you'll never die.

### I can't die anyway. Krystos looked pointedly down at his new form.

That's why we would make such a great team. Let's recruit our pirates, reap what we can and then we can be anything we want.

### Krystos shook his head sadly. For you perhaps, but wealth can't buy what I want.

And what's that?

### Krystos wagged a finger at him. I had an entire crew try to discover that for two years. I never told them, and I'll be dammed if I'll tell you. He bowed his head, feeling the loss as though it had happened yesterday, instead of two long years ago. He heard Leonado get up, and when he looked up, the slender sorcerer stood directly in front of him.

### I can't give you what you really want, not without knowing what it is, but there is a lot I can do for you.

And why would you want to do anything for me, when nobody else ever has?

_Because you're too beautiful to resist,_ Leonado murmured.

Krystos wasn't sure whether to believe him. Perhaps now that he looked more like him, he probably did appear attractive to the dark sorcerer.

Leonado reached out placed his hands on either side of Krystos's head, pressing his palms against his temples. Krystos tried to break free of his grip, but he suddenly felt as though his head was caught in a vice. _I give you the gift of speech, Krystos Rose. From now on you'll understand and speak Avionan like a native_.

Krystos gasped as a wail of sound shrieked through his skull. He scrambled back, trying to get away from it, but only succeeded in tipping over his chair. He tumbled to the floor as the screams faded into a cacophony of voices babbling away inside his head. Finally they turned into whispers, before falling silent.

"What hast thou done?" he gasped.

Leonado grinned. "I gave ye my language, and ye speak it like a native."

Krystos frowned, realizing that he understood every word the little wizard had just uttered. "How in the name of the Goddess did ye do that?"

"Dragonfire taught me. He be fluent in at least a hundred tongues. He also taught me how to take yours, but I suppose there be no need to learn a language spoken so far away." He shrugged. "I'll try it anyhow. See if it works. Hold still."

He clamped his hands to Krystos's temples again. This time he felt as though something was being wrenched from him. It didn't hurt exactly, but was an unpleasant experience nevertheless.

"So now I can speak the native tongue of Crystonia, the land of liquid crystal," Leonado said.

Krystos gasped at hearing his own language again, spoken so fluently by Leonado.

"Why bother if you can mind-read?" he asked in his own tongue.

"I canst do that with everyone, only those endowed with the arts," he answered in his own tongue.

"You can teach me your magic?" Krystos asked.

Leonado shook his head vehemently. That was one thing he would never do, even if Dragonfire commanded it. "I could, but there be no need. Ye be in possession of the demon sword and the fastest, most powerful ship ever seen in these parts. I wouldst think that's magic enough, my dear Krystano." He extended his hand to help Krystos to his feet.

"What didst thou call me?" he asked, getting up to tower over the short wizard.

"I called you by yer Avionan name. Krystos translates into Krystano. Beware, the Pirate Krystano sails the Noiva."

"I never agreed to pirating, Leonado," Krystos said, dusting himself down.

"I think ye'll find ye have no choice in the matter, for what has been done can also be undone." Leonado waved an arm, and the recently restored wall crumbled to reveal the setting sun.

"Nay!" Krystos shrieked. "Damn you! That be blackmail, ye fiend."

"I couldst give ye so much, my pretty pirate. What'll it be? Abandonment in a strange land without yer ship, or riches for the asking. The choice sems easy enough to me."

Krystos gritted his teeth in sheer frustration. He couldn't believe that his control over his life was slipping so easily from his grasp. He might have survived the tempest, thwarting death in the process, but now he was at the mercy of this meddling youth. "All right," he said eventually. "You win – for now."

"I always plan to win."

"Don't be so sure, ye arrogant little upstart. Now put back my wall," he ordered.

"Aye Aye Captain Krystano. Whatever yer cold stone heart desires."
THREE

THE LONELY MAGE

Jenkano had not been in contact with another human being for ten years. His animals were good enough company; the cows, pigs, chickens, and Mageye, his dog. Jenkano had called him this because his eyes sparkled like many faceted gemstones, never appearing the same colour twice. Jenkano's horse was no ordinary mount either. True to his name, Windrider could run like the wind, but it had been many years since Jenkano tested the animal's true speed or strength. The old mage had few places to go, and now only rode the magnificent white stallion for exercise.

Having studied the art of spell-binding for most of his life, Jenkano knew how to convey thoughts into the minds of others, but he wasn't a mind-reader. That art was reserved to the few highborn mages in direct communion with Makim, the Goddess of Miracles. Jenkano found himself wondering if she still existed. Without her believers, Makim would become a lost God, at the mercy of the other deities.

Jenkano had no fear that Navin, God of the earth and elements, or Lorin the Goddess of human emotion would harm her. He also doubted that Fortis, God of strength and courage would turn against her.

Only Serpon, God of death and darkness would try to steal her magical powers. Were He to succeed, Avion would be plunged into darkness and despair. That was why Jenkano feared the dying out of his race, but he was too old and heartsick to fight any more. That role should fall upon a younger pair of shoulders, but with every passing generation, it seemed his kind grew weaker and more ineffectual.

It hadn't always been like this. Jenkano remembered those wild, heady days of his youth when his talents had been in strong demand. One incident always remained clear in his mind.

A pair of huge red dragons had made the treacherous journey across the Noiva from their homeland. Blown off course they ended up on Avion's shore. Frightened and famished, they wreaked havoc to the coastal settlements, scorching entire townships with their fiery breath. Jenkano and his brother, Lorenso, along with several other mages had been dispatched to take care of the monsters.

It soon became clear to the mages that the dragons weren't evil, merely confused and injured. They refused to let the magic users near them, and it had taken all their combined forces to prevent them from killing any members of their party. In the end there had been no alternative but to put the dragons out of their misery. They succeeded in killing one by raining ice spears down on her, forcing her into the ocean.

The other, however, fled inland, his great wings felling entire forests, his fiery breath cindering farms and homesteads. The wizards caught up with him in the Mirion mountain ranges above Scarthe. They did the only thing they could. They forced two entire mountains down on him, imprisoning the beast under the rubble.

There he'd lain these past hundred years. No mortal remained alive who would remember the feat, and all Jenkano had in memory was a portion of the first dragon's wing sheared away by one of the ice spears. They were heralded as heroes, but time and his own regret had helped form the hermit personality in him. Jenkano loved all living creatures. He doubted he could kill an animal now, even in self defense.

Nothing of such magnitude had threatened Avion since, and within Jenkano's own lifetime the mages had scattered to live out the rest of their lives in obscurity. Without practice and constant tutoring, Jenkano predicted that their race would probably die out within a generation. His brother's only son had left before his apprenticeship had even begun. Without a proper education, he would be nothing more than a herbalist, or showman, entertaining children with the most basic of spells.

Jenkano sighed, knowing he would have to get up before the day got too much hotter. Riddled with arthritis and suffering from a constant hacking cough, Jenkano depended on herbs from the jungle to get through the day.

It took a good half an hour for his herbal brew to take effect, and while he waited, Jenkano sat in the heavy wooden chair beside the table, coughing and cursing the aging process.

At one hundred and forty-five, he was stooped and unsteady on his feet. Like all mages who weren't afraid to show their true denomination, Jenkano wore his hair long, his snowy braid almost reaching his waist. His chocolate brown face, however, was smooth and relatively unlined. His special potion kept his skin like that of a man half his age.

His bamboo and rush cottage consisted of two rooms; living and sleeping quarters combined, and his laboratory. He had built the barn of sturdy redwood almost forty years ago. This was where he headed once his limbs were mobile enough to make the short walk across the damp grass.

As always, his animals heard his leather sandals shuffling across the grass, and they greeted him with oinks, neighs, moos, and of course great wet licks from Mageye. Jenkano scratched the large brown and white dog behind his floppy ears.

Reluctantly Jenkano entered the barn. He knew that by the time he was through, he would be stiff and sore again. The old mage wondered how much longer he would last. He had nothing to live for any more. Why was he still alive?

Forcing those maudlin thoughts from his mind, he set to work. After milking the cows, he led them into the pasture behind the barn. Then he collected some eggs, and opened the latch for the pigs to run into their outdoor pen. There he filled their trough with left-overs. They rushed to devour the swill.

His old bones creaking, Jenkano filled Windrider's feed bag, and noticed the horse could do with some more straw. He started towards the hay loft, a chore he was beginning to loathe. He dreaded climbing that ladder, fearing his arthritic limbs would give in half-way, or worse still while he was up there, thus making it impossible to get back down.

What needs to be done must be done, he reasoned, and slowly made his way up the ladder. He didn't dare aid his progress with magic any more, his ability to spell-bind as weary as his bones. He'd miscast far too many spells of late. Once on the wooden ledge, he picked up the pitchfork and set to work, pushing the loose straw down into Windrider's stall.

As he swept the fork further into the corner, he thought he saw the straw move of its own accord. Foolish old goat, he reprimanded himself. Now you're seeing things. But as he jabbed the pile of hay, it yelped, a head appearing in its midst.

Jenkano stood with the fork poised in mid air, staring in disbelief at the strange creature cowering there. With a jolt, he realized it was human. At least he thought it was human. It had a head and arms, one protecting its face from the spikes of Jenkano's tool. But the mage had never seen such pale skin before. Neither had he seen hair the colour of straw, probably why he hadn't noticed it until it began retreating from him.

For the first time in ten years Jenkano spoke, surprised he still possessed a voice.

"Wh- who art thou?" he croaked. "What do ye in my barn?" And how in the name of Makim did ye find this place? His home was about as isolated as could be. Then another thought struck him. How did this strange individual sneak up here without my knowledge? The animals made the slightest noise if something was wrong, but Jenkano had not heard a sound last night.

The person - Jenkano still hadn't ascertained whether it was male or female - lowered its arm and a pair of frightened green eyes peered up at him. Jenkano had never seen a human with such bright eyes before. In fact he had never seen anything like this before. Shoulder length yellow hair tumbled in curling waves over its ears, and its arms were long and stick-thin.

Jenkano decided it was male despite its flowing hair. Perhaps because of his boldly formed features. Long straight nose, square, angular jaw, high, prominent cheek bones. Women simply didn't have faces like that. Despite his apparent height, the stranger was young, no more than fifteen or sixteen.

The youth sat up, exposing his bare chest, confirming his gender. He wore nothing but a pair of tattered, knee-length breeches, and Jenkano saw his blistered feet and scraped knees. He looked half starved, his ribs clearly outlined under his fair skin. And he'd been beaten many times, new and old scars marring the smooth skin of his shoulders and probably also most of his back.

Suddenly he started babbling in a tongue the mage couldn't understand. Despite the clipped nature of the language, his voice was deep and pleasing to the ear. The magician had traveled the length and breadth of Avion, and had heard most of the continent's dialects, but none sounded like this. In fact the youth hadn't spoken a single word Jenkano could comprehend. Maybe he had to communicate with his mind, like he did with the animals.

### Who are you, and where did you come from? he thought, sending the message straight into the youth's head. It made the lad jump back in surprise.

### My name is Alecsis, and I walked along the shore till I came to your rope ladder. Before this I swam to the shore. Nearly drowned... Where am I? What is this place?

Used to vague outlines of feeling, the stranger shocked Jenkano by the clarity of his answer. But then this was another human being, capable of rational thought and problem solving.

He must have been aboard a ship, but where had it come from, and where was it heading? Were there others who looked like him, and if so, where were they now?

I do not know. I cannot remember anything before the ocean.

The young man was reading his thoughts, Jenkano realized with a jolt. How on earth did he do that? As far as he knew only very experienced mages could read minds, and only those who wanted their minds read. In his urgent desire to find out the truth about this strange individual, Jenkano had been projecting his thoughts directly to him.

### All I know is my name. I have forgotten everything else. No memory before the ocean. He hung his head, yellow hair obscuring his thin, pale face. The gesture said more than words. He was tormented by the loss of his memory.

### How did you lose your memory? Jenkano asked.

### When I fell in the water - I think.

No wonder he was in such a battered state. This part of coastline was a rugged, unforgiving place, the jungle full of venomous beasts that attacked at the slightest provocation. How on earth had the young man survived?

### So you say your name is Alecsis. He was certain he had mispronounced the strange name, but as the youth failed to correct him, he continued. And you remember nothing of how you came to our shore?

That's right.

Jenkano knew that this kind of memory loss was usually caused by shock or a hard thump across the head. In all likelihood Alecsis had suffered both. The boy intrigued him. For the first time in many years, Jenkano wanted to know more about another human being.

### How did you get in here? he finally asked. Why didn't the animals make a sound?

### Alecsis frowned, his pale brows coming together over his strange eyes. When I unlatched the door I let the animals know I wouldn't hurt them. I talked to them, particularly your beautiful white stallion. What's his name?

### Windrider, Jenkano answered. On account of his speed.

Alecsis's eyes widened in surprise. He asked me to ride him, ride me like the wind he said. That's truly amazing.

Yes it is, Jenkano agreed, considering the stallion was a one man horse. The youth had been endowed with incredible animal empathy. There could be no other explanation. Oh yes there could. Mageblood might run in his veins. Jenkano rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Could he be magekind like me? His power over the animals? His ability to read my thoughts so clearly?

There was only one way to find the answers to those questions, and that was to get to know Alecsis better. Jenkano never thought he would speak again, but he knew he couldn't send the youth away simply because he liked his own company. Perhaps the young man wouldn't want to stay long anyway.

But Alecsis showed no desire to leave.

As the weeks slipped by, and he grew stronger from Jenkano's good food, all he wanted to do was learn the Avionan language and culture. He was an excellent student, and never complained when Jenkano chided him, usually a result of his own impatience.

Once his injuries healed, Alecsis took over the heavy physical chores. He chopped wood. He rethatched the cottage, harvested and replanted Jenkano's rice crops. Every day he exercised Windrider. The sleeveless tunic and leggings Jenkano sewed for him soon stretched like a second skin across his broadening chest and shoulders. Jenkano even made him a pair of sturdy ankle-boots out of the slain dragon's hide. What use did he have for the enchanted leather now?

"I shall treasure these boots with all my heart," Alecsis whispered in his heavily accented voice. They always spoke now. The continual use of words helped Alecsis learn to speak sooner than the direct, but easier communication with the mind. "Will ye teach me how to fight like that?" he asked after Jenkano told him the story of how he and his friends bested the dragons.

Jenkano shook his head sadly. "I'm sorry. My magic wielding days are over. But I can show you how to use a sword should ye end up in a mortal conflict."

Dusting off his rusty old broadsword, Jenkano polished it vigorously to make it worthy of Alecsis's use, then handed it to him without ceremony.

The young man was a natural. He took to the blade as though he was born with a sword in his hands. Jenkano reasoned that someone must have given him lessons once, someone quite skilled in the art.

Trying to get Alecsis to remember his past had proved a futile endeavor. Jenkano had used several powerful hypnosis techniques, but to no avail. Alecsis's past was destined to remain a blank slate.

"Yer skill with the sword will aid ye greatly in your travels," he said one day, watching Alecsis beat the humid afternoon air into submission.

"We're leaving here?" Alecsis asked, lowering the weapon.

"You will," Probably very soon, he added silently, his own heart aching at the thought.

Alecsis's frown deepened. "Ye're sending me away?"

"Ye shall leave of your own accord."

That night Jenkano dreamt of Lorenso. Even though his brother was a good twenty years his junior, he looked older. Not having the need for healing herbs to ease aches and pains, his dark brown skin had succumbed to the ravages of time and turned as wrinkled as an old berry. Like all mages, he too wore his hair long and braided. It had grown thin and gray, and his careworn face was lined with sadness as it shimmered into view before Jenkano's eyes.

"What ails thee, brother?" Jenkano asked in concern. This was how they communicated, in their sleep, their thoughts and feelings travelling many miles through the still night air.

"I miss my son," Lorenso told him.

"He still hath not returned?"

"Nay, and I fear he might approach some dark sorcerer for his education. What fledgling has the patience and courage to cast intricate spells that require hours of tutoring?"

"I know of one," Jenkano answered.

Lorenso's dark eyes widened. "Tell me more, brother."

"He is a stranger, a fair child from another world. He calls himself Alecsis, but remembers naught of his past. His tumble into the ocean robbed him of his memory. He has been here with me these past few moons."

His brother managed a weak smile. "He must be special indeed."

"I have never met another like him. But my time draws nigh. Perhaps I should send him to you. He is clever, patient, and knows how to wield a sword."

Lorenso's mouth twisted wryly. "The king seeks strong fighting men. There is much unrest here. The lords are fighting. Highwaymen abound, and many wagonloads of nightstones are disappearing. Trade has virtually reached a standstill. Were your Alecsis to join me, he would be seconded into hunting down these vile creatures."

"T'would do him good. He needs the company of others, young men... and women..." His brother's image grew dim and fuzzy, meaning their time together was drawing to an end.

"You really are dying?" Lorenso asked softly.

"Aye. Not much longer now."

The sadness in Lorenso's wise dark eyes deepened. "What will I do when ye're gone? All our magefriends are dead or vanished. The only love of my life died in childbirth. My son hath deserted me, and now ye're nearing the end of your time on earth..."

"That is why I will send you Alecsis. He is all I have to offer you."

Lorenso sighed. "Then send him to me, but I know not what life will be like for him here. Everything is in turmoil. Sometimes I envy your tranquillity."

"I would have it no other way... May Makim keep you safe. Goodbye, brother dear."

"Goodbye, Jenkano. Sleep well."

Jenkano slipped into peaceful darkness, but when he woke, the agony in his joints was unbearable, and he coughed blood instead of phlegm. What he'd feared for some time now had finally came to pass. His herbs no longer dulled the pain.
FOUR

JOURNEY OF DISCOVERY

Krystos decided not to accompany Leonado on his journey to recruit the pirates. Apart from the fact that the entire notion left a foul taste in his mouth, he wished to be free of the little sorcerer's company. His presence filled Krystos with too many conflicting emotions. Even though Krystos hated Leonado's meddling, something about his flamboyant, cheeky personality appealed to him. And the way he spoke to Krystos, lavishing him with endearments was enough to send his pulse racing.

### Left alone with his restored ship he began to plot how to be long gone before Leonado and his pirates returned. Even though barely a handful of men had survived, surely they would be enough to get The Crystal Rose moving and into a port where he could recruit new sailors.

Krystos set out in search of them, unhinging his mind from his body to soar above the ship and across the dense, inhospitable countryside. He soon saw why few dared venture this far north. The jungle was impenetrable, and when he drew closer, he thought he saw strange sinuous beasts slithering though the undergrowth, their eyes flashing up at him out of the darkness.

He saw no trace of the sailors on his first expedition. Exhausted from the journey, he decided to spend the next day consulting the ship's charts. Perhaps they might yield some information as to how he could return home.

After several hours of fruitless perusal, he threw the maps down in disgust. What had that cursed navigator been doing all this time? Contemplating his navel? None of the charts matched, and the man's handwriting was a mass of illegible squiggles.

"May your useless hide nourish the sea creatures, for you did no good as a sea man," Krystos cursed, deciding to try his luck again with the other sailors. He would convince them to come back with him somehow. Inhabiting a new body had to have its advantages. They wouldn't know him as Captain Rose, or the sailor they left behind.

It took several astral journeys to discover what had happened to them. Seeing their discarded bones and possessions strewn about a tiny clearing, made his heart knot painfully in his chest. Leonado had been right yet again. The jungle beasts had made a feast out of them.

Krystos returned to his body, feeling wrung out and so damn sad, he couldn't bear to move. He must have lain in his bed for days, lethargy and melancholy constant companions.

"All right Leonado, you win," he grumbled on the third day. "Bring your pirates. We'll play the game your way." But many weeks passed before Leonado returned, until Krystos wondered if he should try his luck on foot. As long as he kept to the beaches, he would reach a seaside port eventually. The little sorcerer had assured him there were plenty of riches to be had along Avion's coastline. Krystos reasoned he could recruit enough sailors on his own, but the longer he procrastinated, the more he dreaded returning to find his ship stolen by the wily Leonado and his pirates.

The sun sat low on the horizon when a vessel rounded the headland. It was the ugliest tub Krystos had ever seen. Barely large enough to house the fifty odd men crowded upon its decks, it rode dangerously low in the water, the single mast supporting dirty, patched sails.

### As the ancient old boat drew alongside The Crystal Rose, Krystos felt as though a filthy hand had smeared feces down his spotless white shirt. The tub's occupents seemed to be in no better shape. All dark like Leonado, they were clad in little more than rags, their eyes wide with awe in their grimy, hungry faces.

"Serpon's spawn!" Krystos exclaimed. "What have ye done, Leonado?"

"Set out to do what I said, found ye a new crew," the little sorcerer said from beside him.

Krystos spun round, stunned to see him there. He had discarded his unbecoming robe, and was dressed as a sailor, wearing a soft white shrit and snug-fitting trousers tucked into tall boots. He still favoured the colour red, for both his pants and boots were as bright as the susnet now streaking the sky crimson.

"Do any of them even know how to sail?" Krystos demanded.

"O' course. I tought them myself," Leonado replied smugly. "Tie up and come aboard men," he called out.

"I cannot abide this," Krystos protested, already knowing that he'd been duped yet again. He turned and stalked away, unable to take the sight of his ship being overun by these filthy baggages. He cringed as he caught sight of several grimy men making themselves at home upon his spotless deck. He slammed the door to his cabin shut behind him.

Krystos threw himself down upon the bed, rage and frustration churning his gut. Even though Leonado's magic could not kill Krystos, without his ship Krystos was nothing. Leonado had control of her now.

Krystos didn't know how long he lay there, but time must have passed, for he heard activity all around him; running feet, orders being given as the ship was readied for sail.

He didn't know anyone had entered his room until he felt the touch of a gentle hand aganst his hair. He sprung up, startled to see Leonado standing beside the bed.

"I wish thou wouldst not sneak up on a man like that," Krystos gritted out.

Leonado merely sat down beside him. "I thought ye might want to know that we're under sail."

"And where pray tell might we be going?"

"To get rich," he replied simply.

"Through deciet and villany," Krystos muttered.

Leonado shrugged his slender shoulders. "Through whatever means it takes."

"I sailed an honest ship, Leonado, a fine ship."

"And she's still a fine ship. The best." Suddenly he threw his hands up in frustration. "What in the Gods' name dost thou want, Krystos?"

Krystos shook his head. "'Nothing thou canst give."

"I'm wounded," Leonado feigned hurt. "A wizard capable of breaking into an entire wing of a prison to free its inmantes without the guards so much as batting an eye, and ye accuse me of being unable to help ye!"

"Can ye undo the past? Bring back the dead?"

Leonado stared at him for a moment before slowly shaking his head. "Nay! I believe no mage can perform such feats."

Krystos sighed, bowing his head, his long dark hair forming a curtain about his face. "I thought not."

"Would a life of pirating with me be so terrible?" Leonado asked softly. Again his hand returned to Krystos's hair, pushing it over his shoulder. A shiver pulsed down Krystos's spine, and he glanced back at the slender mage. "Ye're still the captain, Krystos. I haven't taken that from you, even if ye think I've robbed you of yer vessel. When Dragonfire tires of pirating, I might even come with you to your homeland."

"Have ye ever questioned what this being wants from you?" Krystos asked, turing his face so that Leonado's fingers could brush his cheek.

"All the time. But let us not discuss him now. Let's instead concentrate on one other, as we've been longing to do since we first laid eyes on each other."

Krystos let the desire coursing through his veins take over. He had always had a weakness for slender youths. At many a port he'd taken his pleasure with young, fresh boys too confused and frightened to resist the power of his lust. He pushed Leonado back upon the bed, the young sorcerer as eager as himself to sate the passion flaring between them.

Alecsis continued to cradle Jenkano's limp body in his arms long after the old man had heaved his last breath. Tears streamed down his cheeks, as he sobbed over the death of the only friend he had ever known.

The mage had taught him how to mix and stew his concoction of herbs long ago, and Alecsis had made him drink gallons and gallons of the evil tasting brew – but his hacking cough worsened, until the bed was awash with blood. It made them both look like they had been in a bitter war. For two days he sat with Jenkano, trying in vain to make him well again.

Accept it, Alecsis. Your friend is dead. Jenkano had not always been easy to get along with, often yelling at him for the slightest misdemeanor, but he'd taught Alecsis all he knew.

The young man might have learnt the rudiments of the language, but he knew nothing of Avion's people, and felt like a newborn babe, innocent in the ways of the world. Jenkano had revealed little of their customs and beliefs. He had not taught him anything about magic either, saying his brother would complete his education. But Lorenso lived a hundred leagues away. According to Jenkano's map, Alecsis would have to traverse half the continent to reach him.

Mageye's howl split the still night air, yanking Alecsis out of his reverie. Windrider neighed, and the cows began to bellow mournfully. They know their master is dead, Alecsis thought. Lifting the old man's head from his lap, he climbed off the bed and stumbled towards the door.

### The cool night air was a welcoming relief from the stench of sickness in the cottage, and Alecsis took a deep, cleansing breath. He studied the star studded sky, wondering if Jenkano's soul was already among them. Have you come to claim your own yet, mighty Makim? He deserves a place beside you. Treat him well.

His short prayer said, Alecsis turned to the wash-pail, rinsing the dried blood from his hands and face. Then he removed his tunic. He doubted the animals would react well to Jenkano's blood on his clothes.

Alecsis found comfort of sorts with Mageye and Windrider. The three of them spent the remainder of the night huddled together on the hay in the horse's stall. As dawn stretched its first tentative fingers across the barn's roof, Alecsis rose, and prepared for the chore ahead.

The physical labour of digging Jenkano's grave was no great hardship. What weighed him down was the great gaping hole in his heart. The big hound sat silent and mournful at the edge of the ever deepening crevice, his usually bright eyes dulled by sadness. Alecsis could at least give his friend and teacher the burial he deserved. The old wizard had feared nothing more than the prospect of vultures feasting on his flesh. Under the ground, he could lie in peace, his body becoming one with the earth.

Alecsis stopped often to wipe tears away. The deeper the hole became, the larger the chasm in his heart grew.

Around mid-morning he put his shovel down. Leaving the dog to stare with miserable eyes into the dark earth, he returned to the cottage. He dreaded the task ahead. His dragon-hide boots felt like lead weights pulling at his feet.

Jenkano lay exactly as he had left him, his face pale and lifeless. The scent of death clung tenaciously to the air. Wrapping the old man in a clean woollen blanket, Alecsis lifted him from the bed.

Mageye began barking as Alecsis brought his master out. Sniffing the air around the still form Alecsis carried, he whined piteously, then darted around to the other side of the grave to growl accusingly at him.

### I'm sorry, Mageye, but your master was a very old man. He led a good life, but now we must lay him to rest. Do not fear. I will look after you.

His soothing thoughts calmed the dog somewhat, and he grew silent while Alecsis dropped to his knees, gently lowering Jenkano's body into the grave.

"Goodbye my friend," he said, straightening up. He failed to realise that he had spoken in his own language, and Mageye whined again.

Alecsis ignored the dog as he picked up the shovel and began closing the grave. The tears resumed their relentless journey down his cheeks, as the clumps of earth fell on the blanket-covered form lying so silent and still.

Alecsis was reluctant to leave, and wondered if he could live here by himself. Jenkano had done it, so why couldn't he?

The answer came to him in the form of nightmares that left him trembling with fear. He dreamt of Jenkano's dead face, his bloodstained clothes hanging off his scrawny body. He decayed a little more each night, flesh peeling away, maggots crawling out of his sightless eyes. During the day, the emptiness in his heart grew. Alecsis soon realised the loneliness would drive him mad. He didn't have the stamina for isolated living.

He prepared for the journey south. Sticking the map into his belt pouch, he packed a few belongings; Jenkano's sword and dagger, his cloak and satchel of healing herbs, purse of gold coins, as well as some dried meat and a water-flask.

The forest yielded nothing but berries, fruits and herbs. Alecsis still had not forgotten the days of yearning for something more substantial when he first made the trip along the coast.

Early the following morning he set the animals free, and shooed them into the dense undergrowth behind the barn. Then he saddled Windrider, and calling Mageye to his side, he set off.

For many days the scenery remained the same. The track leading from Jenkano's isolated homestead had not been used in years, and Alecsis had to stop often to hack away thick vines and move rotting tree branches.

The only life forms Alecsis saw were scaly green and gold creatures that slithered on invisible legs. With Mageye darting straight for them, Alecsis often had to kill them, and then heal a bite or sting inflicted upon the dog with a soothing herb from Jenkano's pouch.

Alecsis soon grew to loathe the jungle. Windrider's white coat grew shabby from insect bites. Alecsis bathed him in herbal solution every night, but in the morning he was once again covered in scabs and seeping sores.

Almost convinced Avion consisted of nothing but festering forests, Alecsis breathed an audible sigh of relief when he finally came across his first open space. The trees thinned, and stretching out in front of him were rows of mature rice paddies.

Reining Windrider to a halt behind the treeline, he stared in wonderment at the scene before him. At least a dozen people worked ankle deep in the waterlogged fields. Most amazing to Alecsis was that many were women.

Even though he remembered nothing of his life before Avion, he knew the difference between the sexes. Somewhere in the dim distant past there must have been a woman who had cared for him. For the first time trying to remember of his childhood didn't fill him with dread. Had she been his mother? A sister?

When nothing came he returned his attention to the women in the field. Their slender brown arms and legs were bare, and when one bent forward to pluck a plant from the water, he caught a glimpse of full, round breasts above the bodice of her gown.

Alecsis felt his face flush, and the heat surging to his lower body made him swell and strain against the fabric of his leggings. He was certain he had never experienced the like before, and quickly spurred Windrider away through the trees.

That night he found a clearing, where for the first time in days he could watch the moon and stars follow the curve of the sky. He lay awake a long time, pondering the oddness of his reaction.

Eventually he fell into a restless sleep. He had not dreamt of Jenkano's decaying body since leaving the homestead, a sure sign he had made the right choice. Instead he dreamt of the woman in the field. He saw his pale hands reach for her slender waist, but when he thought he had her, she turned and ran from him, vanishing into the mist surrounding his dream.

He woke with a start, discovering his hand pressed against his manhood. He started to stroke himself, the hot pleasure sending his thoughts whirling.

### At first he saw the woman, but then a sense of revulsion crept over him, and he drew his hand away. Was it wrong to tantalise oneself? Are you up there, Jenkano? Why does my body react like this? It feels strange, strange but pleasant. Is it normal?

Of course he received no answer, and decided to continue his journey despite the earliness of the hour. Alecsis knew he would get no more sleep that night.

He came across more rice paddies over the next few days, but none were ready for harvesting, and therefore devoid of people.

As the road improved, the forest thinned, and eventually gave way to stunted trees and tall swaying grasses. Even the cloying humidity eased. Although the sun scorched the dry earth, Alecsis welcomed the dry heat. He sat astride Windrider's back, staring in relief at the undulating hills stretching into the distance.

According to his map, he had almost twenty leagues to travel before he reached the Minka River. He reasoned this journey would not take as long as his slow, tedious treck through the forest. His horse was as keen for a run as he was.

Spurring him into action, the stallion soon demonstrated his stamina, galloping at an incredible pace across the rolling hillsides. With the wind tugging Alecsis's hair and rippling through Windrider's mane, they covered many leagues that day. Although Mageye often fell behind, he always caught up. With his keen sense of smell and excellent eyesight, he had no trouble finding them at the end of the day.

At dusk they rode into their first village, a cluster of thatched mud-brick cottages hugging the dusty roadside. Children playing outside the humble dwellings scattered in the massive stallion's wake, their shrieks of terror bringing mothers to doorways. The men, returning from working the fields, appeared at the bottom of the road.

A wave of hostility mingled with fear swept over Alecsis as he reined in Windrider. Brought to such an abrupt halt, the horse reared, coming up on his powerful hind legs. Mageye darted back and forth across the street, sniffing curiously at the retreating children, his magical eyes sparkling in the half light.

Even if he had ridden calmly into the village, the reception would have been the same. This was an isolated community that rarely saw travelers, and a tall, pale man thundering into their midst on a massive white horse must have come as something of a shock.

"I mean ye no harm," he called out in the language Jenkano had taught him. "I am just passing through."

Nobody answered. They stood gaping at him, their dark eyes wide with suspicion. Like those in the rice fields, these individuals were small in stature, with dark brown skin and straight dark hair kept cropped short. They wore simple clothes; the men drab smocks over roughly woven breeches, and the women lose fitting frocks in various shades of brown or gray. Alecsis, with his flowing yellow hair and bright dragon-hide boots stood out like a star burst in the night sky.

The safest thing to do would be to ride on. The men were armed with farming implements; shovels, picks and axes, formidable weapons if they so chose to use them. They also barred his way. Alecsis didn't want to turn back and find another route south, but neither did he want to engage in battle with the men.

He called Mageye to his side, and reined Windrider around. The three of them left the village as quickly as they had entered it, and Alecsis spent another night alone with his tumbling thoughts and the strange new ache at the base of his belly. But he dared not respond to it again. He kept his hands tucked securely under his head as he stared up at the canopy of stars. Tonight they seemed to be taunting him, and he squeezed his eyes closed, shutting out their astral winking.
FIVE

THRILL OF THE KILL

### The pirates lunged into their first attack with great gusto. Krystos stood on the bridge of The Crystal Rose, watching them immerse themselves in blood lust. They had easily caught up with the small, single masted merchantman, and now the pirates swarmed her decks, hacking down the unfortunate traders.

### So far Leonado had seen no need to aid their progress with magic or Darkfire's assistance. Krystos dreaded that moment. He had felt the sword's power only the once, and the memory of it sent an icy shiver down his spine.

Krystos had only killed one man in his life. The feel of the dagger grinding through flesh and bone had churned up his insides with revulsion. The terrified look upon his victim's face, and that awful, awful gurgle as he gasped for breath would never leave him. Krystos felt the bile rising in his throat as though it had only happened yesterday. Killing a gull was one thing, ramming the big black sword through a man another.

"I picked wisely, my dear Krystos. They've taken as well to pirating as they did sailing," Leonado said form beside him.

Krystos grunted. They had proved themselves capable seamen. He had no trouble commanding them either, Leonado making it clear right from the start who their captain was.

Before them men fell dying, their screams grating against Krystos's ears.

"Damn! We're losing men," Leonado cursed, pointing into the melee. "I think ye'd better go to their aid. I don't wish to pay another visit to Prison Isle again so soon."

"Surely one or two won't matter, seeing ye're able to command the wind to aid our progress," Krystos replied, as another pirate was flung overboard.

"That's three, dammit!"

### "All right. All right. I'm going." Krystos left the bridge and ran down the stairs. He jumped upon the deck of the merchantman, and unsheathed Darkfire. The black blade pulsed with anticipation, drawing in the light around it. Krystos barely even had to think about who to kill first. The dark sword found its mark, jerking his hand forward. The blade rammed though the back of a man battling valiantly with a beserker pirate. He might have had a moment to realize what had happened before he dropped to the ground, a great gaping wound gushing blood in his back.

Instead of the expected revulsion, Krystos felt a sizzle of satisfaction burn though him. He almost moaned from the sexual intensity of it.

A man spring into his path, outrage contorting his features. "Serpon take ye, you blagguard!" he cried. "That was my brother."

### "Then die at his side," Krystos bellowed, the word brother enraging him so much his vision turned red. Once again Darkfire guided his hand. With a hefty sweep the black sword slid easily through flesh and bone. The man fell, almost cut entirely in half. Consuming the blood of her second victim, Darkfire seemed to pulse faster, her ecstasy shuddering through Krystos, intensifying to the point of sexual release. Even in the arms of his willing lover, he'd never felt such mind-numbing passion. It was almost too much too bear, and yet the sword's desire to sate its blood lust continued to burn, leading him on.

### Leonado watched Krystos wielding Darkfire, regret and jealousy clenching his stomach into knots. The sword had done something to him. One only had to look at his enraptured face to know that some kind of bond had been formed, something far deeper than what the handsome captain would ever feel for him.

### What's happening between them, Dragonfire? He demanded of his tutor, but for once, the voice inside his head remained obstinately silent. Damn you, Dragonfire. What do you want of me?

### To free me from my prison, of course, came the ominous reply. I do believe the battle is won. Go and take your booty. You've both done very well.

### Thank you, your Lordship, Leonado retorted ungraciously, but Dragonfire's previous words filled him with dread. Krystos had been right to question Dragonfire's motives. Leonado felt as though he was getting too firmly embroiled in his teacher's quest. When he'd left Scarthe, he never thought he'd now be pirating, let alone enjoying it. Was the deep satisfaction he felt at having bested the merchantman his own or Dragonfire's? He feared he was loosing touch with himself under his teacher's persuasion.

In the captured ship's hold they found magnificent silks, the best wine and brandy to he had, and an entire casket of pearls.

### "We shall make a tidy profit with this, and fine new clothes to boot," Leonado remarked, Dragonfire and Darkfire for the moment forgotten. He shook out a roll of bright blue silk, threaded with gold.

### Krystos had to admit the goods were of exceptional quality, almost as fine as the silks he'd worn back home. The wine, too tasted good, filling him with a heady warmth. It felt normal, so unlike the unnatural fire Darkfire had sent surging through his loins. And yet, like a drug, he already longed to experience it again.

"Let's distribute a cask to the crew as payment for their excellent work," Leonado said, hefting a box of bottles with the aid of magic. "And there be enough linen and denim to make them new clothes too."

Krystos saw no problem with this, eager to see his new crew look respectable. He took a bottle back to his cabin to savor it in quiet solitude. But this wasn't to be. Leonado joined him a short time later.

"I desire to be alone tonight. Leo," he said as the sorcerer sat down on the bed beside him.

### Krystos could have sworn Leonado looked hurt. "I just want to ask ye one thing," the wizard said. "What happened between ye and Darkfire today?"

"We enjoyed ourselves, just like Dragonfire wanted," he answered simply.

"Ye appeared enraptured."

"Perhaps I was, but she did all required of her."

"Aye, but how does it work between you and the demon?"

"Ye're the mage. You figure it out. I'm tired, Leo. Leave me be."

Leonado realized he would get nothing more out of the captain tonight. No answers to his questions, and no pleasure in his big, soft bed. He stalked from the room, letting the door slam behind him with a satisfying bang.

The Minka River started as a trickle, but soon turned into a small creek, then widened to a series of rapids and waterfalls. Alecsis had to dismount often to lead Windrider across craggy embankments.

A road had been marked on his map, but after his encounter with the hostile villagers, Alecsis was reluctant to follow a path that might lead him into another settlement. He wanted to reach Scarthe with as little incident as possible.

Eventually it became impossible to avoid the numerous settlements flanking the river, and the urge to sleep in a bed grew. Now that the river was a meandering expanse of water, he often spotted barges travelling along it.

He rode into Linkana about an hour before sunset. Following the river road, he became part of the traffic heading to and from the docks. Linkana was the largest town Alecsis had come across so far, its houses made of brick and slate. Some were several stories high, and a great stone fortress stood perched on the hillside overlooking the town. It was surrounded by stern gray walls. Somebody obviously saw the need for protection, Alecsis thought, staring up at the tall central tower with its thin slitted windows.

A row of warehouses lined the foreshore, and horse-drawn carriages and carts were as abundant as people on foot. The well-to-do traveled in sedan chairs, their bearers almost as gaily dressed as their masters. Merchants mingled with the workers, and everyone moved in an orderly fashion. In this sea of humanity, Alecsis was cast little more than curious glances as he rode by. He noticed something else.

The further south he traveled, the paler people's complexions became. But they were still much darker and shorter than him. The weather had also grown milder, and as the sun slid over the horizon, he slipped on Jenkano's black cloak to keep the evening chill at bay.

He eventually came across an inn, knowing it to be a lodging house by the sign out the front advertising bed and breakfast. The notice also boasted the best ale in town, and all-night entertainment for a minimal fee. The two-storey brick building overlooked the water, the scent of the river mingling with the various foodstuffs being distributed to the warehouses.

Alecsis found the stables around the back, and for a few extra coins the young groom agreed to feed and water Mageye as well. The dog knew to stay close to Windrider, and Alecsis left them to enter the inn's tap-room, a large, smoke-filled chamber, with several rows of wooden benches and tables. Most were occupied by burly wharfies who had finished work for the day. A group of sailors huddled around a table in the corner. They reminded Alecsis of his near-drowning, but he could recall no individual with whom he had sailed.

As always his inability to remember anything before that day depressed him, and he strode across the dusty floor, trying to portray an air of confidence he did not feel. Although conversation did not cease entirely, he felt numerous pairs of eyes follow his progress. His face was probably smudged by the days on the road, but his fair hair and green eyes could not be disguised. A short, fat man with more hair on his face than on his head stood behind the bar, his dark eyes assessing Alecsis.

Several serving wenches scurried out from the swinging doors, carrying trays of steaming food. Alecsis's stomach growled noisily. Certain the entire room had heard the rumble a faint blush crept to his cheeks.

"Ye have come for dinner, I presume?" the obese barman queried dryly.

"Aye," Alecsis answered. "And a bed for the night. I have money." He placed a hand against Jenkano's purse, making the coins inside jingle against each other.

The bar-tender's wary expression lifted. Obviously money was more important to him than Alecsis's unusual appearance.

"For twenty Dacans I can give ye my best room, roast dinner, and refills of ale. The evening's entertainment is extra, whatever the ladies see fit to charge ye."

Because Alecsis had no idea what an evening of entertainment involved, he agreed to the room, food and drink. He felt weary and grimy, and longed for a clean, comfortable bed. The fat man gave him a key with the number two marked on it.

Alecsis placed his purse on the bar, and began counting out twenty coins. They varied in size, but a chubby hand scooped them up before he had the opportunity to work out if they were of different denominations. Alecsis didn't let it concern him unduly. There seemed to be plenty left.

The bar-tender filled a metal tankard from one of the large wooden kegs behind him, and set it down on the counter in front of Alecsis. "A girl will bring your meal over."

Picking up the mug, Alecsis found an unoccupied bench in a dimly-lit corner. Once he sat down, the general hubbub in the room increased. Occasional glances still slanted in his direction, but Alecsis ignored then, and turned his attention to his drink. As he brought it to his lips, its strong alcoholic odor wafted over him. Jenkano had never drunk the like, but Alecsis was certain he had smelt such liquid before. When he took a sip, however, he realized he had never savored ale before. The fiery brew burned down his throat, making him cough noisily. He set the tankard down to await his meal.

It was brought to him by a slender young woman clad in the same demure blue gown and white apron as the rest of the serving wenches. She refused to meet his gaze as she set the steaming plate down in front of him, and darted away the moment she dropped the accompanying utensils beside it. Although this was an inn constantly frequented by strangers, her unfriendliness made Alecsis feel even more of an outsider.

For the first time he found himself wondering how he would be received in Scarthe. If the hostility he had encountered thus far was anything to go by, he would have a difficult time gaining acceptance as Lorenso's apprentice. He could be making this journey for nothing, but where else did he have to go? At least it gave him purpose and a goal... for now.

The meal tasted delicious. The succulent steak was accompanied by vegetables and crispy baked potatoes. If nothing else, the people in this establishment knew how to cook.

He devoured everything on his plate, and then returned his attention to the tankard of ale, determined to become accustomed to it. If every other man in the room could guzzle it by the gallon-full, surely he could handle a single mug.

After a few sips, he realized what the great attraction was; not its flavour. That remained as fiery as ever, but the warming after-effects. A soothing mellowness settled in his stomach, and he grew pleasantly light-headed as he drained the mug.

It also made him unsteady on his feet. Unlike the wharfies and sailors, he wasn't used to drinking large quantities of alcohol. Alecsis decided to remain seated for the time being.

Soon a new group of women filed into the tavern. Their full, floor-length gowns were brightly coloured - and very revealing. Alecsis caught sight of enough cleavage to make him goggle, but he thought their heavily made-up faces detracted from their beauty. He soon realized they were dressed like this on purpose. They mingled with the men, preening and cavorting, eventually luring some out of the tap-room. They didn't do this for nothing. Alecsis saw coins change hands and disappear into well-concealed purses.

None of them approached Alecsis, and he wasn't sure whether to be relieved or disappointed. Something bothered him about these women, and it wasn't only to do with the over-enhancement of their endowments.

Eventually one did sidle up to him. Being older and more solidly built than the other women, she had been unable to lure any of the men away with her. As she drew closer, Alecsis realized why. Her heavy make-up covered a pockmarked face, and her dark eyes were filled with sadness. It was an emotion as familiar to him as the palm of his hand. He might not recall his life before the ocean, but certain feelings continued to creep up on him, filling him with despair. Somehow he suspected the dolphins had rescued him from a dark and dismal past. Perhaps it was just as well he had forgotten it.

"Ye must be feelin' lonely, sittin' 'ere all by yerself," the sad-eyed dame crooned, sliding a flabby arm across his shoulders. "My, yer a big boy, aren't yer?"

With a rustle of skirts, she slipped into his lap. She might be old and none too pretty, but the feel of her soft, warm body pressed against his had the same effect as watching the women in the rice field.

### "Ye do want company. I can feel it," she went on in that same syrupy tone. To his amazement, he felt her hand squeeze his manhood. "What did ye do to yerself to get such pale hair and skin? It be truly amazing!" Her other hand toyed with his long locks, twirling them around her fingers.

"I bathe in bleach at every opportunity," he said, and had to stop himself from sniggering at the ease with which he told that little lie. What amazed him even more was that she believed him.

"But why, honey-bun? What compels ye ta be so different?"

"Why be the same as everyone else?"

"And that cute accent. How'd ye come by that?

"Magic," he answered.

Her eyes widened, and Alecsis remembered what Jenkano had told him about people's suspicion of magic-users. "I jest. It merely be an impediment I have."

Her wary expression eased. "So, tell me, does yer... er... not so little friend seek company tonight?" She squeezed his member again. "No impediments there, I see."

"Um... What kind of company?" Alecsis asked, trying to keep his expression neutral. No mean feat when his entire body quivered with a maelstrom of desires. No dark thoughts rose to curtail his need this time.

"Depends on how much yer willin' ta pay, me dear. I hear the rattle of coins. I suspect yer not a poor man."

Alecsis opened his purse, and started dropping coins into her outstretched hand.

"Will that do?" he asked.

Again, the purse remained as full as when he had first picked it up. He was beginning to suspect it was as enchanted as his boots. They had been keeping his feet cool during the heat of the day and warm at night. He had accidentally let his axe slip while chopping wood for his fire. Expecting to lose several toes, the implement had simply bounced off the tough burgundy surface.

She smiled broadly, displaying uneven, dirty teeth. "More than adequately, me dear. More than adequately."

"I hate ta put a damper on this exchange, but this dame is bleeding ye dry, me friend," an authoritative voice declared from beside them.

Alecsis craned his neck to see a slim, but relatively tall man in his early forties. He had a handsome round face, and wore the attire of a farmer; plain brown tunic and matching breeches.

A young fellow of around thirteen or fourteen stood beside him. The boy was obviously his son. Like his father, he wore his straight brown hair at shoulder-length, something Alecsis had come to realize was not the current fashion. Most men kept their hair cropped very short, no doubt due to the temperate climate.

"I be in the middle of conducting business here. If ye require entertainment, some of the other girls'll be back soon." Alecsis's plump companion glared at the newcomer.

The man frowned, his dark brows joining over his short, straight nose. "Nay, I need no entertainment, not at these exorbitant prices." He turned his attention to Alecsis. "If ye really require urgent relief, there be prettier and cheaper girls at Madame Larana's down the street."

"How dare ye!" the woman fumed, jumping off Alecsis's lap. Several coins scattered in her wake, but she managed to keep hold of most of them.

"Be a good girl, and clear off."

She did as he urged, no doubt deciding the money she had salvaged was worth more than getting into an argument with someone almost twice her size.

"A strapping young man like you can do better than that ugly old tart." he told Alecsis, as he slid into the unoccupied bench opposite. His slender son retrieved the scattered coins, and handed them to Alecsis before sitting down himself.

"Do you really bathe in bleach, sir?" he asked.

Alecsis and his father both laughed.

"What's so funny?" the lad demanded.

"May I introduce myself. My name is Nikaro, and this is my son, Antano."

"Alecsis," he answered, accepting the outstretched hand.

"So, tell me how ye really came by your unusual colouring?" Nikaro asked.

"I was born this way, I guess."

"Ye guess?"

"I lost all memory before a certain incident." He found himself telling them how he came to Avion's shore. He didn't know why he felt so comfortable with them, but something told him he could trust the amicable, casual pair. He soon learned they were also journeying to Scarthe to join King Rostan's army, but he thought it wise not to mention who he was going to see.

"Since my wife left me some six moons ago, I've had the overwhelming urge to give up farming," Nikaro told him.  
"Ye wanted to sell out long before then, Da," Antano corrected.

"All right, I never wanted to be a farmer. Lynthia leaving me was a good thing. Never trust a woman, Alecsis. The whore should have proven that to you. And never own up to fathering their offspring - "

"But Da - "

"Except if they be like Antano," he amended, reaching out to ruffle the lad's hair.

"But they're so warm, so soft," Alecsis murmured.

"Bed them if you must, but be discrete. And always chose the ones who don't demand money for their services. Ye're less likely to catch something nasty that way."

"My Da's such a cynic," Antano said. "She wasn't such a bad Ma. Just because she burnt our dinner most nights didn't make her a terrible person. And she didn't run away. She went to stay with her mother 'cause you wouldn't stop complaining about her cooking..."

"Why didn't you go then, hmm?" Nikaro countered.

"I couldn't bear her cooking either."

They all laughed.

When Nikaro suggested they travel to Scarthe together, Alecsis didn't object. He liked the cheerful pair.

After a comfortable night in a clean bed wide enough to accommodate two, Alecsis woke refreshed and ready to tackle the final leg of his journey.

Father and son kept him amused with witty anecdotes, making the days pass quickly. Alecsis no longer went to sleep at night feeling lonely and mournful over Jenkano's death. Knowing two good friends lay on the other side of the campfire comforted him. Mageye also liked the easy-going pair, often trotting along beside Antano, as though to protect him because he was the youngest.

Some nights they slept in inns, and because he was with Nikaro and Antano, Alecsis received fewer strange looks. People even talked to him, and gradually he became more comfortable with the language. Nikaro teased him about the way he pronounced some words, but Alecsis knew it was only in jest. Nikaro even explained to him what the whores did for their money. When Alecsis began asking about marriage, Nikaro decided to include his son in the conversation.

"This be for your ears too, Tano, so don't go riding ahead," he said, as they cantered along a tree lined road not far from the border of Scarthe Province. They had spent the night at a boarding house in Braythe, a large, fortified town several days north of their destination. Orchard groves flanked both sides of the road. The occasional farmhouse could be seen through the rows of trees. The weather had grown cooler, but the days were still warm enough to wear nothing more than a loose smock or shirt.

"I know all there is to know 'bout coupling," the lad called back, but he slowed his bay gelding nevertheless.

"And how did ye learn that, listening at key-holes, no doubt?"

"How did ye guess?" He sped up again, and Nikaro dug his spurs into his horse's flanks in pursuit. Alecsis laughed as he watched them disappear through the trees. Something told him he had never shared such warmth with his sailing companions. This togetherness was as alien to him as the pleasures his body could bring him. At least now he knew it wasn't wrong or sinful. Jenkano said it was as natural as eating and sleeping. And yet... something dark continued to stir in that forgotten part of his mind...

A shriek drew him up sharp. It sounded like Antano, but it wasn't a yelp in response to a cuff across the ears. Alecsis spurred Windrider into a gallop, and rode straight into a flurry of fighting. Nikaro kept two sword-wielding riders at bay with his axe, and Antano was trying to dodge the arching sweeps of a sword from a third. Two more waited behind them, ready to charge if their companions should falter.

Alecsis immediately unsheathed his own blade. He couldn't recall ever having fought in a real battle, but he knew his friends' lives depended on his practice sessions with Jenkano.

The five men smelled as though they hadn't bathed in months. Scraggly beards covered their haggard faces, and their horses looked mangy and underfed. Their weapons were old, one man's sword so rusty, Alecsis wondered what could possibly be holding it together.

"Even as three you're outnumbered. Just give us your money and we'll let you ride on," the one fighting Nikaro yelled.

"Never!" The swarthy farmer retaliated with a swing of his axe. He missed, almost coming off his horse from the momentum of his wide-angled swipe.

"Your life, then!" the highwayman screeched, bringing his sword down. It cut through Nikaro's upper body with a sickening wet squelch, slicing him open from shoulder to navel. Bright red blood gushed forth in its wake. With a groan, the farmer slipped from his horse, crumpling lifelessly to the ground.

Antano's scream echoed through Alecsis's head, and a blazing anger he didn't know he possessed raged through his body. He charged the killer with his sword upraised. With a single thrust he ran the man through. He turned to the next one, nimbly countering his attack, and dispatched him in the same fashion, his entire body trembling with hatred for these unjust creatures. As he watched the man fell, he caught sight of Mageye clinging to Antano's attacker's leg, teeth embedded in his flesh. Then Antano exacted his own revenge, decapitating him with a swing of his axe.

"Behind you!" the boy yelled.

Alecsis turned to see one of the remaining two charge at him, his sword aimed directly at his heart. He swung his own blade up, knocking the attacker's sword from his hands. It spun away, and Alecsis unseamed him the same way his companion had dispatched Nikaro. He too slipped lifelessly from his horse.

The last man backed away, guiding his mount into the trees, then followed the path already taken by the other riderless horses.

Alecsis stared in stunned horror at the carnage, his fury as spent as a sail without wind. You did this, he told himself. You killed them. And yet he felt no remorse. They had struck first, greed their only motive.

He slid from Windrider's back and saw Antano drop to the ground beside his father's prone body. Alecsis felt tears sting his own eyes. He had already lost one friend. Now another lay dead before him. Misery wrenched his heart, but he fought against it. He had to be strong for Antano's sake.

As he trudged on lead-like legs to the mourning lad, he heard the sound of hooves in the distance. Still holding his bloody sword, he turned, preparing to ward off another army of attackers, but the men who rode into view didn't look like renegades. They were all dressed alike, in pale blue surcoats over shining platemail, their protective helmets gleaming in the bright midday sunshine.

"Company halt!" their leader commanded, raising one arm. They came to a thundering stop only metres from where Alecsis stood. He counted fifteen, and knew he wouldn't stand a chance if they decided to cut Antano and himself down.

"What happened here?" the same man asked.

"Five men attacked my friends and I. His father is dead." He motioned to Antano still bent over his father. "As you can see the boy and I killed four of them. The other escaped into the woods."

"Seek him out." the leader ordered, motioning for several men to leave the main group and follow the direction Alecsis had pointed out. Then he turned back to Alecsis. "Where are you headed?"

"To King Rostan's court, sir," Alecsis answered, still not certain if they meant to kill him. "To serve His Majesty in any way I can."

The leader lifted the visor of his helmet, and Alecsis caught sight of friendly brown eyes. He sighed in relief. They weren't going to do away with him after all. "I think the king will find a job worthy of ye young man. I am Sir Sumon, First Knight of King Rostan's army. And who might you be?"

Alecsis introduced himself with a bow. The gleaming knight deserved no less. "The lad is Antano. I hope ye can recommend a good position for him as well. He and his father were so looking forward to their new lives at Scarthe."

"Of course. Go comfort your friend. We'll not be leaving until the villain is caught."

By this stage Antano was hysterical in his misery. His sobbing simply would not ease, no matter how many soothing words Alecsis murmured into his ear.

"What'll I do? What'll I do? I cannot live without him!" he wailed.

"Ye can and ye will, in time," Alecsis reassured him, holding him close. "T'will be hard at first. Remember I lost my friend too, the one who lived alone in the forest."

"But he wasn't your father," Antano sobbed.

"That's right. I probably lost him a long time ago, but ye're not alone. You still have me. I shall look after you."

"But what if you die too? Then who will I have?"

"Ye'll make other friends. That was the whole idea of coming to Scarthe, was it not? To learn new skills, make a fresh start. Besides, I'm more resilient than you think. Ye'll be stuck with me for some time yet."

Antano's weeping finally ceased, and they both scrambled to their feet as the soldiers returned with their quarry.

"I want to kill him," Antano hissed.

"You shall witness his hanging in the square when we arrive in Scarthe," Sir Sumon told him. "We have been after this band of renegades for weeks now. They have stolen from travelers of this road for much too long. Thanks to you, their reign of terror is over." He turned to his men. "Dispose of these bodies. We don't want other travelers coming across them."

When they were ready to leave, Sir Sumon urged Alecsis and Antano to ride at the front of the column with him. The highwayman, his hands tied in chains, was surrounded by armed soldiers at the back of the group. Nikaro's body was transported in a cart purchased from an obliging farmer who lived nearby. He would be given a hero's burial once they reached Scarthe. A scout rode into the town ahead of them to inform His Majesty how the highwaymen had been vanquished.

Alecsis caught his first glimpse of Scarthe from the hillside overlooking it. Nestled at the foot of the Mirion Ranges, the town looked serene, the whitewashed buildings contrasting with the lush greenness of the mountains.

Like most settlements he had come across, it was a mixture of old and new. The well-to-do lived in two-storey mansions surrounded by abundant gardens nearest the castle. It was by far the largest fortress Alecsis had seen. Four massive white towers jutted into the cloudless sky, and a wide moat surrounded its outer walls.

They were welcomed into the town with cheers and shouts of joy. Women and children threw flowers at Alecsis and Antano. The positive attention helped draw the lad out of his melancholy, and for the first time since Nikaro's death Alecsis saw him smile.

"I could get used to this," he said.

"Not I," Alecsis replied, as a shower of mulit-coloured petals settled in his lap. "I did not come here to be a hero."
SIX

THE RELUCTANT KNIGHT

"What in the name of the Gods is that?" Krystos demanded, pointing in awe at the round, opaque sphere hovering in front of Leonado. He'd entered his quarters to speak to the sorcerer to try and make up after their last quarrel.

### All they seemed to be doing lately was fighting. If it wasn't about how to distribute their new found wealth, they argued about their lackluster love life. Leonado didn't seem to understand that whenever he used Darkfire, his lust was sated, and he had no need to relieve himself with his lover. In the back of his mind, he knew the sword was unnatural, but he was bound to it now, the need to kill a part of him.

"A spy glass of sorts," Leonado answered listlessly. He was still hurt over the sword's preferance for Krystos, but now it had little to do with his own desire to possess it, for he knew it possessed Krystos. The captain was changing. He seemed to have become a shell of his former self, the vibrant, sensual man now only obsessed with blood lust.

"And who do ye spy on through it?" Krystos asked in a bored tone.

"All manner of things. But tonight I think I might spy on my father."

"You have a father?" Krystos asked in surprise, the first sign of emotion Leonado had seen him show in a long time

"Yes, I have a father." And I wish I'd never left him for Dragonfire, he added mentally. His dark teacher seemed to be twisting him into something else as surely as the sword had changed Krystos. It was growing increasingly more difficult to keep his own self separate from Dragonfire. He felt as though he had done a deal with the demon God himself, Serpon the thief of souls.

"May I see him?" Krystos asked, slipping an arm around Leonado's slender shoulders.

"If ye will." Leonado placed his hands against the cool, opaque glass, and whispered the incantation to draw forth the image he sought. Colours began to swirl within the sphere, forming a darkened room. Leonado leaned closer, and a man dressed entirely in black wondered past his field of vision.

"Oh father!" he sighed as the man turned around. The old familiar face seemed to be peering back at him, but Leonado knew Lorenso had no idea he was spying on him. The magic Dragonfire had taught him was completely different to that which his father practiced. Drawing on the power of Serpon, it flowing quicker and with greater power than the complicated spells Lorenso had to remember. Leonado knew that Makim's magic could be equally as powerful as Serpon's, but it took many years of training to learn how to harness Her power. Now, as he looked upon his father's sad face, he wished he'd taken that time.

### It's too late, young Leonado, Dragonfire hissed inside his mind. I have you now. Your father is the enemy. He and his kind must be destroyed.

### No! Never! Leonado protested, as the dark, cloying pressure of Dragonfire pressed down against his mind.

You think you can fight me. I've led you to believe that till now. But I think the time has come to show you the full extent of my power.

Darkfire's mental talons bit into his consciousness, sending excruciating knives of agony slicing through Leonado's head.

You're mine, Leonado. Mine till the day you die.

### Stop it, he wailed. Stop it! Please! I'll do as you say. Just stop the pain!

Good boy. You're doing well. Soon we'll be together in body as well as in mind.

Leonado shuddered, dreading that day.

Many months passed before Alecsis met Jenkano's brother. It seemed almost as though Lorenso had no wish to meet Alecsis. He never summoned him, even though Alecsis knew he'd been informed of his arrival in Scarthe. Eventually Alecsis took matters into his own hands. It took a while to discover the whereabouts of Lorenso's chambers. Few people seemed to know where he cloistered himself.

When Alecsis did eventually find out he was reluctant to pay him a visit, for the mage lived directly above the dungeon. In memory of Jenkano he journeyed down the winding stone stairs to the heavy wooden doors that hid Lorenso's domain. There he knocked, calling the old mage's name. He went several times, but no sound emitted from behind the heavy oak paneling. Had Jenkano sent him all this way for nothing?

The endless skirmishes in the provinces around Scarthe soon proved him wrong on that front. Alecsis spent most of his early months on the road, helping Sir Sumon break up smuggling rings and arresting highwaymen who sought to rob and murder travelers.

The king had been very specific in his orders; kill on sight anyone spotted acting illegally, but Alecsis soon realized that hunger and destitution caused the bandits to behave as they did. Capturing them and having them thrown in prison actually ensured they were fed and clothed. Once they realized this they usually gave themselves up. Few soldiers were prepared to kill a surrendering man. Avoiding bloodshed made sense, and before long, Alecsis was placed in charge of his own platoon.

"Didn't I tell ye, ye'd do well," Antano remarked one afternoon as they rode back to Scarthe after another successful mission. This one had been particularly harrowing, making Alecsis realize that he was being given more difficult jobs as time went by.

Alecsis glanced at the youth riding beside him. The boy actually looked contented, but the smile this drew to Alecsis's lips was a wry one. Who would have thought someone so young would take so well to warring? Antano rode into battle without fear or qualm. He still had a lot to learn, and yet he leapt into the fry, risking life and limb with his erratic fighting style. Alecsis marveled that he was still alive. It seemed that every highwayman and bandit was guilty of his father's death.

### "I'm merely doing my job, Tano," he replied wearily. "Although I didn't anticipate that I'd be spending all my time on the road. Surely there can't be many rogues left in those hills." He motioned up at the Mirion ranges surrounding them.

"Methinks that we'll be marching on Enan to talk some sense into a few merchants next."

Alecsis sighed. "They holding up shipments again? I thought Sir Sumon came to an arrangement with them."

"It seems they get greedier still. The more we give, the more they want. I believe this time the king won't negotiate."

Alecsis slanted another glance at the youth. "How do you know so much, my young friend? Ye ought to be sleeping, not listening to late night gossip. That's where ye heard it, no? From drunken soldiers."

"Tis better to be armed with knowledge than without," the lad answered blandly.

"Ye're too young for such talk."

'And ye're too young to tall me what to do. Ye're barely eighteen, although ye might look like a man of twenty."

"I'm your friend, Tano, and only trying to help."

"You can help by not trying to act like me father. He's gone, and there's naught who can take his place." He jammed his spurs into his mount's flanks, making the horse spring forward. Alecsis called after him, but the lad ignored him, soon surrounded by a group of men riding ahead of them.

Alecsis groaned out loud. The boy was hurting, but Alecsis feared Antano's charmed life in battle would come to a painful end before he realized what he was doing. Surely trying to avenge his father's death this way caused him more grief than admitting his loss.

They rode into Scarthe at dusk, entering the castle gates in time for supper. After eating his fill, Alecsis left his companions to boast and brag of their latest success. He trudged across the damp grass, his legs weary from long days in the saddle.

It had surprised him at first when Sir Sumon arranged for Alecsis to have his own quarters. Only the knights and their squires lived in the keep. The soldiers had separate barracks in a wooden building not far from the kitchens. Now he was grateful for the peace and quiet of his own room. It wasn't large and contained no more than a bed, a table and two high-backed chairs. A curtained closet took up one corner, and in the other Alecsis dropped his sword and armour. A small window overlooked the kitchen gardens. The few times he had been able to sleep in without a mission to occupy his mind, he'd stood there watching the kitchen maids tending the vegetables in the sun, their tinkling laughter like salve to his war-torn ears. The sight of their simple, uncomplicated lives made him question his own existence.

Not that he didn't already doubt his ability to continue as the king's war-machine. He knew why he had been chosen for this kind of work. The very sight of him instilled fear in the king's enemies. Unfortunately it did the same to the common folk of Scarthe.

Antano wasn't backward in coming forward with gossip about him. Antano seemed to think he'd find it amusing, but Alecsis longed to walk down the street like everyone else, incurring admiring glances instead of fearful ones. To have a young woman look upon him as a potential lover instead of the barbarian from the jungle would have made a pleasant change.

Tonight nothing stirred in the kitchen gardens. Stars glittered down upon the dark earth, not a cloud marring the night sky. Alecsis turned away from the sight. He considered asking for a bath and hot water, but weariness soon saw him changing into his robe and crawling into bed.

No doubt Antano was still up rallying with the men. He hadn't wanted quarters in the keep, preferring to remain in the barracks. Alecsis couldn't really blame him. Antano was a sociable person. He craved company. It set Alecsis to wondering about his own personality, but along with his memory, it seemed lost at sea. Was it the life he now led shaping his quiet reticence, or had he always been a loner? What had sent him journeying across the Noiva in the first place? Where were his family? Did they miss him? Of course he received no answers. Pondering such matters only seemed to fuel his loneliness.

Despite his inability to fall asleep, a loud knocking on his door startled him out of bed.

"Who is it?" he called, padding across the flags in his bare feet.

"Sir Sumon."

Alecsis groaned, conscious of wearing nothing more than his robe. "One moment," he called, scrambling into a pair of crumpled breeches. Why would the first knight summon him now? Surely he couldn't mean for him to set out on a mission at this time of the night. Alecsis picked up the candle which he'd set down on the stand beside his bed and relit those on the table.

Then he hurried to the door and unbolted it. "Sorry to take so long sir, but I was already abed."

The middle-aged knight grinned, white teeth flashing. "I can see that. Sorry to disturb you, but ye have a visitor who doesn't keep the same hours as us mere mortals."

For the first time Alecsis noticed the individual behind the knight. Even in the dim light of the hallway he needed no introduction. The long black robe belted at the waist, the gray hair swept back into a long braid, and the pinched, lined face, were all too similar to Jenkano's.

"Lorenso," Alecsis breathed, his heartbeat suddenly thundering in his ears. He had all but given up on ever meeting Jenkano's brother.

The old magician neither smiled nor uttered a welcome. He merely swept into the room, letting the door slam shut in Sir Sumon's face. He never touched the handle, and Alecsis knew he'd closed it with the will of his mind. Sitting down at the table, he motioned Alecsis forward.

"Stop standing there gaping boy and join me."

Alecsis sank down into the remaining chair on the other side of the table, his trembling knees no longer able to support him. He had never really been in awe of Jenkano, but Lorenso inspired instant respect. Alecsis realised why the mage rarely ventured out. People looked upon him with the same fear that dogged Alecsis's heels.

Lorenso reached out and waved his hand over the candles, lifting the flames with an invisible thread of magic. When he drew his fingers away, they remained at twice their natural height, illuminating the room as though it was daylight. Alecsis blinked, rubbing his eyes, stunned at the power within the old man.

"Lean closer boy and let me have a good look at you."

Alecsis did as he bade, resting his arms on the table as he brought his face closer to the heat of the flames. He endured the scrutiny of the mage as he'd borne the stares of curious onlookers many times before.

"My brother saw magic in those pale eyes," Lorenso remarked, sitting hack in his chair. "A child from another world with mageblood in his veins, he said... Pity the king saw ye first. He's been keeping you busy indeed. All I see is weariness, far too much weariness for someone so young... Ye're not content fighting the king's battles, are you?"

Knowing how Jenkano could read his thoughts, Alecsis suspected his brother could do the same, and merely nodded.

"You got a tongue boy?"

"Aye sir," Alecsis answered.

"Would you like to work for me?"

"I - " Alecsis faltered. He wasn't sure he liked Lorenso. He was as abrupt and to the point as his brother, but there was a coldness about him, an aura of contempt for human frailties.

"Ye'll never take my son's place."

"You have a son?" Alecsis gasped.

"Had," the old magician snapped. Suddenly his entire face changed. The aloofness slipped from his features, and a deep sadness touched every line. It radiated from his deep-set eyes, but he soon composed himself, pulling back on the stern visage he had walked into the room with.

"The lad ran away many moons ago. I have not seen him since."

"And ye want me to find him for you," Alecsis deduced.

"Nay. He is lost to me." Again, that look of sadness, there one moment, gone the next. "You want to learn magic and I'm prepared to be yer teacher... Well, do ye wish to learn the art of spell-binding?"

"Will the king allow it?"

"That I shall have to negotiate. My son was a flighty child, not ready for the enormous responsibilities associated with spell-binding. Ye'll have to work hard, very hard."

"I'm not afeared of hard work."

Suddenly the old man grinned. "I have no doubt on that point. Whoever ye are, Alecsis from beyond the sea, ye're disciplined and dedicated. Thank the gods they brought you to me 'ere 'tis too late." With that he stood.

"What do you mean? What's going to happen?"

"A great deal, I believe. A great deal indeed, and ye'll be in the midst of it, fair stranger."

He swept form the room as quickly as he'd entered, leaving his distinctive aura behind. Alecsis turned back to the tall flames still illuminating the room. To be able to do something like that, he marveled. The thought of achieving such a feat made a shiver of delight sweep through his body.

Alecsis went to sleep that night dreaming of enchantments. He changed the colour of his skin and hair. People gaped at his cleverness. Women no longer feared him. Instead of turning away, they came to him, wanting him... loving him...

When he woke, reality wasn't as forgiving. He returned to his duties, and hoped to be summoned by the palace magician any moment.

As the days slipped into weeks, and weeks into months, Alecsis wondered what had gone wrong. Had the king had his way, or did the mage change his mind? Alecsis eventually learned the truth, when Sir Sumon told him that he'd recommended Alecsis for a knighood.

"Ye're the best soldier this army has ever seen. Ye might be young, but such bravery and skill deserves a reward," the first knight said as they rode back to Scarthe after annexing Enan. The merchants had proved a tenacious lot. Many lives had been lost that day, but the end result had been worth it. Cloth and leather would flow between Enan and Scarthe once more.

Alecsis knew he should be happy, or at least honoured, but he preferred to sit in a quiet chamber learning magic, than participating in royal parades and banquets. A knight was always visible, always on show. Alecsis didn't think he could bear the scrutiny of the entire court.

That night, Lorenso finally came to him, looking old and weary.

"I tried," he began without preamble. He carried a small sack in one hand, which he dropped on the table, making its contents clank together. "But my king's needs must come first."

With a loud sigh he sat down at the table. 'What battles remain?' I asked of him. 'Alecsis hath done his duty. He's defeated your foes, ended the skirmishes and smuggling.' O' course he would not answer me, dismissing me like some common pauper. What more does he want of you, I asked myself... It wasn't until tonight that I realised 'tis I he wishes to punish."

Bitterness lined his face. "King Rostan believes he no longer requires a spell-binder. All I am to him is a glorified healer. He sees no need for a successor of my line."

Alecsis leaned forward to offer sympathy, but Lorenso held up a gnarled hand. "Let me finish. Let him knight you. It shan't be forever. A time will come when he no longer has need for either of us. Then we shall follow our own destiny."

"Ye mentioned something like that before. What do you mean?" Alecsis asked.

But Lorenso stood. "Bide yer time boy, as shall I... But for now..." He tipped the contents of the sack onto the table. A jeweled belt and fine silver dagger spilled forth.

"I know ye fight well, but let these aid you in battle. The knife will ensure ye never go hungry. With it you can slice a kill till there's enough for everyone. The Belt." He held it up. Alecsis thought it a rather ostentatious affair. The gold links were interspersed with precious stones of various colours. The three at the front were twice as large as any of the others. It would have looked fine encircling a pretty maiden's waist. "Each gemstone has a different function. Merely touch the one you require, and your own mageblood will do the rest." He turned to leave.

"Aren't you going to show me how it works?"

"Ye'll soon grow accustomed to it. Only don't practice indoors." With that he swept from the room, once again leaving Alecsis gaping after him.

Princess Karina remained seated at her turret window long after the soldiers had marched through the barbican. With an unrestricted view of the castle grounds, town, surrounding fields and mountains, she often spent hours on end her window seat.

That was how she lived her life, observing the actions of others.

She watched the townspeople going about their business, wondering what their lives were like. On seeing the farmers tending the fields with their horses and ploughs, she longed for a purpose such as theirs. Growing crops seemed a much more worthwhile endeavor than sitting in a tower letting decisions be made for her.

Perhaps if she'd had a mother things may have been different, but the queen had died giving birth to Toran, her youngest brother. Karina had no recollection of her mother. Boran, her older brother, could tell her little more about Queen Darna, even though he was the only sibling old enough to remember her. Her father would tell her nothing either. King Rostan lived for the moment; he had no desire in recollecting the past, even if it included a wife he must have once loved. These days he seemed to be with a different woman every night of the week, and his sons had developed the same lack of respect for the fairer sex.

Sometimes Karina hated her existence with a vengeance. She was a pampered princess, with nothing more to occupy her mind than what she should wear each day. And yet she longed for a different life, with more at stake than the alliance the king would make when the time came to find her a suitable husband.

She could wonder the keep at will, but when she wanted to enter the town, not only did she have to be accompanied by her maid, but at least two of the king's guardsmen.

Everyone knew who she was. She could never amble freely among the stalls, or ride into the hills simply for the sake of it. And neither could he, she realised, the man she had been waiting all day to see.

On hearing the news that the soldiers had at last broken up the stalemate between the merchants' guild and the traders, Karina had waited for a glimpse of the foreigner they called Alecsis.

She hadn't been disappointed. Like the first time she'd seen him, he stood out like the moon on a clear night, his magnificent white stallion a perfect compliment to his fair complexion and flowing yellow hair.

Karina had stared, her mind once more trying to capture his image for her easel, but every time she started sketching, she knew drawing from memory would never be enough. She had to see him close up to recreate the essence of his spirit, his personality.

Karina tried to discover as much as she could about Alecsis. There were rumours of course. Her maid, Nira, was only too happy to fill her in on the latest gossip. "They say never to look directly into his strange eyes, for fear of being cursed with the same fading disease he suffers from."

Karina had laughed so hard her sides ached. Being as pale as a marble statue, with hair to colour of corn-leaves wasn't a curse as far as she could see.

"They say he has powers over and above the magic items he carries into battle with him," Nira had said other day.

Karina suspected there was probably some truth in that. From Lorenso she'd learned that the young man had spent many months with the magician's brother, nursing him in his final days. To show his appreciation, Lorenso had bestowed Alecsis with several enchanted artifacts to aid him in battle.

Despite the old wizard's cantankerousness, Karina enjoyed watching him mix and boil his strange concoctions. No doubt he was as lonely in his dingy laboratory as she was in her lofty tower.

When not with Lorenso, she read, sketched, and dreamed of the world beyond the Mirion Ranges. More and more she longed to meet the one man who knew what lay across the Noiva.

She got her wish later that night as she sat beside her father in the great hall enduring yet another flood of potential suitors vying for her attention. After dancing with several of the young noblemen her father had invited from surrounding provinces, she tried to sneak from the hall, but an announcement brought her to an abrupt halt.

"Tomorrow, I will welcome a very unique man to my elite corps," the king boomed from his thorne. "He may be different, but this difference has made him special. Few can boast the strength of Alecsis from beyond. Few have won as many battles as he. Our next banquet will include a new knight. I hope everyone will make him feel welcome."

Karina felt her heartbeat quicken and her face flush with heat. She would see him up close at last. She might even get to talk to him. Karina spun and hurried from the hall, her heart doing summersaults of anticipation.

The following afternoon she took her place on the dais behind her father's throne. She had never spent so much time fussing about her appearance as today, making her maid wonder what was wrong with her. From the rumours Karina suspected most women feared Alecsis, Nira included. They liked to gossip and tell tales, but few made the effort to find out what he was really like.

Seated between her two brothers on her satin stool, Karina watched in fascination as he entered through the heavy double doors of the throne room.

Flanked by two of the king's officials, he started down the gold walk, his soft, burgundy boots barely making a sound on the shimmering floor.

Close up, he seemed even more imposing than he had from her window. He wore a smart dark blue tunic, and the pale hair had been tied back at the nape with a matching ribbon. He came to a halt, and dropped to one knee on the dais before her father.

### Karina watched her father raise The Holy Avenger, a sword everyone in court knew possessed the ability to heal and to destroy, to sense evil and repel. It had been passed down from generation to generation, remaining as pure as the day it was created.

Until now only the King had used it, and certainly not for bestowing knighthoods. Alecsis must be a very special man indeed. The blade started to glow as it touched the kneeling man's shoulder, and blue sparks erupted when King Rostan drew it away. Alecsis didn't even flinch, keeping his eyes downcast.

When he glanced up, he looked directly at Karina. His features were square and angular, but his softly-curved mouth was at odds with the rest of his face. His eyes were softer still, with no trace of the coldness rumoured to curse the unsuspecting. To Karina they looked like liquid green pools bathed in morning sunshine. She couldn't help sighing, drawing her brothers' attention.

Boran leant towards her, a smirk playing about his full lips. His dark eyes crinkled knowingly. Years of good food and wine had given him a perpetually flushed appearance. He always looked as though he had been exerting himself, although the only exercise he ever received was in the bedchamber. His bejeweled robes failed to hide his already overweight figure. Like her, he wore his ceremonial crown, his short black hair sticking haphazardly through its gold links.

"What is it, little sister? Can it be that you actually find that uncivilised beast handsome?"

"I think it more the rumours that make him out as uncivilised," Karina answered, meeting Boran's sly gaze.

"Nobody knows his true origins," he told her. "They say he came out of the jungle clad in naught more than rags, unable to even communicate his most basic needs."

"He came to us from another land, his vessel lost to the Noiva," Karina protested.

"If ye believe that, ye're a gullible fool," Boran sneered. "There is no land across the ocean. Only Avion and Noiva, land and sea, sister and brother. Even a child knows that."

"Then what of his lack of colouring?" Karina demanded, already suspecting Boran had developed a theory about this as well.

"The lack of sunlight in the jungle failed to colour his hair and skin. His strength heralds from years of living like a savage. Beneath those fine clothes lives a wild beast waiting to betray us. That father is actually going through with this shows he's becoming too old to rule."

"Wash out your mouth!" Karina shot back. King Rostan was only forty-five. Although he looked his age, he had a good many years in him yet. Unfortunately she knew the real reason behind Boran's comment. He wanted to take over, reap the glory without the hard work ruling a kingdom entailed.

"I swear ye have designs on the blonde brute," Boran laughed, and Toran joined in. He found anything his older brother said amusing. Karina cursed his sudden insight. Did she really have designs on Alecsis? Surely not! How could she feel anything for him when every other man she'd ever met left her cold?

### She watched Alecsis rise, and her father pointed The Holy Avenger to the ground. The sword's point grazed the tiles, setting off another shower of magical sparks. Rostan stood with his hands around the hilt, and the newly anointed knight reached out and placed his around the king's. The sword glowed bright blue, the colour associated with Fortis, the God of Strength.

Finally Rostan welcomed Sir Alecsis into the ranks of his elite corps, speaking in the ancient tongue now only used at official and religious ceremonies. Not even Karina knew all the words, and she was certain Boran had never bothered to learn them. The blank look mingling with his barely controlled hatred told her as much.

The king withdrew his hands from the sword, leaving Sir Alecsis to raise it to the flame of power that had been burning for centuries beside the throne's dais. As fire licked the blade, it shone bright yellow, the colour associated with Lorin, the Goddess of Love and Hope.

"I've no doubt you were expecting it to turn Serpon's colour and damn him," Karina couldn't help imparting to Boran.

### "Father can't mean for him to keep The Holy Avenger," Boran remarked, as Sir Alecsis withdrew the blade from the flame.

"I think he does," Toran answered, as the knight sheathed the sword in the scabbard attached to his gold belt.

### Outrage darkened Boran's plump face. He turned a livid shade of scarlet. "That sword should have come to me!" he spat, jumping to his feet. Karina tried to grab hold of his hand to resrain him, but he hurried forward, stopping at his father's side. "What is the meaning of this? The Holy Avenger belongs to the royal family. What dost thou think ye're doing?"

Never before had Karina seen the King look upon his son with such disdain. Had he finally come to realise what a spineless wimp he was? "The Gods have spoken to Lorenso. They told him that the time has come for the sword to do Makim's work."

"That wizened old fool!" Boran snapped. "What would he know? He can't even cast a fireball to light a campfire."

"He might be old, but he still has the power of Makim behind him."

"Makim, Goddess of make believe," Boran spat.

The king pointed towards the doors. "You will leave - now! Later we will discuss your insolence."

Boran didn't move.

### "Go!" Rostan bellowed. "Or I swear I will disinherit you!"

"You can't do that!" Boran spluttered.

"I can and I will, if you don't leave this chamber immediately."

With a colourful swirl of his ceremonial robes, the young prince stormed past his father, but he did not leave straight away. He stopped in front of Alecsis. The new knight's pale face seemed to have grown even paler as he watched the irate prince, his mouth a thin line of tension.

### "Ye'll regret whatever sorcery ye've wielded over my father, Sir Alecsis," he snarled. Then he was gone, his boots clicking loudly on the marble tiles.

Boran's antipathy towards Alecsis continued to deepen, particularly when Alecsis took Sir Sumon's place several months later.

The First Knight retired after falling from his horse during a training session, and could no longer walk without the aid of a cane. Every royal function became a strain due to Boran's treatment of the young warrior.

As she endured the long, tedious meals in the Great Hall, Karina watched out for Alecsis, but after the food was taken away, and the floor cleared for entertainment, he melted into the shadows. Even though she only ever saw him across a crowded room, he filled her thoughts, as she wondered what kind of world he heralded from.

Was there really a land beyond the Noiva?

Who was he really?

Somehow she would have to find the courage to approach him, find the answers herself.

When she finally did get the opportunity to speak to him, all her senses deserted her, and she stood rooted to the spot, staring in amazement as he deftly climbed over the wall into her private garden.

Karina didn't come here much these days, finding it too much like a prison. The flowers were wilting in their pots, and leaves clogged the fountain. Perhaps that was why he'd chosen this place, thinking no-one ever came here.

She stopped behind a large pillar, peering around it at him. The way he casually slipped the shirt over his head showed that he had been here before. Karina stared in amazement at the wide expanse of chest as he stretched his muscular arms over his head. Karina had seen the men-at-arms practicing sword-play clad in naught more than their breeches, but never had she seen a man built like this one.

### No wonder they all feared him. The way he unsheathed the sword at his side with a loud shing of metal against metal sent a great shiver rocketing through her. It wasn't The Holy Avenger, merely a ordinary blade he used for practice, but his stance inspired awe and wonder.

She remained hidden behind her pillar, watching him go through his exercises. He seemed so graceful despire his size. His long, muscular legs lifted him high into the air as he jumped over benches and ducked around invisible foes. His skin soon grew damp with perspiration as he practiced, and Karina forgot all time and place as she watched her work of art in action.

When he'd had enough, he headed for the fountain, thrusting his face under its spray to drink, sluicing water down his heated body.

Reason returned at the sound of panting and claws scraping against tiles behind her. The dog that had accompanied Alecsis on his journey darted past her.

"Mageye!" she called him back, but he scampered over to his master. Karina groaned out loud as Alecsis spun towards the sound of her voice.

"Show yourself!" he demanded, grabbing his sword.

Karina stepped away from her pillar, and stumbled on unsteady feet into the courtyard. For a moment she felt like a snared rabbit flushed out of its hiding place. But as she gaped as him, he did the same to her, recognition dawning.

"Your Highness," he murmured, bowing before her. When Avionan men blushed it was barely noticeable under their dark skin, but Alecsis's entire face turned a bright shade of red.

Karina couldn't believe that the bravest warrior of them all could blush so profusely, and a mantle of her royal composure returned. "What do you here, Sir Knight? This is a private garden, reserved for the use of her royal Highness."

"I – I do apologise. I – I had no idea," he stammered, lowering his head. Blonde hair tumbled forward to obscure his face. "I will remove myself from your presence immediately."

Karina took another step forward, bumping into the dog that had settled at her feet. He merely looked up at her with amused eyes. As she righted herself, Alecsis sprung over the wall, disappearing from view.

"Wait!" she called, but when she reached the wall, he had disappeared. She scanned the grounds, but he was gone, vanishing as magically as Lorenso himself.

"Damn!" she cursed like a man, turning away in irritation.

Then she noticed the crumpled white cloth on the seat by the fountain. Karina scooped it up and crushed it against her chest. Well, she thought burying her face in his shirt, if you want it back, you know where to come. His masculine scent overwhelmed her, and she knew in that instant Boran had been right.

### The Princess Karina had finally been besieged by desire.

### SEVEN

THE PIRATE KRYSTANO

Alecsis dashed down the path, his sword still clasped tightly in his hand. Maids and serving boys scattered out of his way. He longed to disappear, never to be seen in these parts again. How could he have been so stupid? So much for trying to train in private!

The rush of wind against his bare skin reminded him all too clearly of how badly he'd conducted himself. She could have his head on a stick for such obscene behaviour. Enough people had seen him fleeing half naked from the scene.

Got to get away, he thought, somewhere quiet to work out what to do. He saw an open doorway leading down to the lower bowels of the keep. From there he could reach Lorenso's chambers. Did he really want to bother the old wizard with this? he asked himself as he hurried into the darkness and out of the sight of prying eyes. He probably won't open up to me anyway. Lorenso only accepted company when it suited him.

Alecsis's steps slowed, and he sheathed his blade, certain that the sight of it had invoked most of the terror. He negotiated the narrow stairs at a more reserved pace, his head still echoing with her words. "This is a private garden, reserved for her royal Highness."

He recalled the first time he had seen her, seated on her stool in the throne room, calmly watching him receive his knighthood. Her beauty had swamped his senses. All he'd wanted to do was stand there and drink in her perfect features, drown in her sapphire blue eyes as she stared back at him. Fairer than most people of her race, with reddish-brown tresses that shimmered down her back in waves, she looked almost... foreign. Her face was like a delicate flower, blooming above a slender neck and full, voluptuous bosom.

He tried desperately not to think of her, knowing it was futile to form fantasies around someone as unattainable as her.

As hard as he tried to banish her from his thoughts during his waking hours, she drifted into his dreams most nights, willingly slipping into his embrace. In his dreams she loved him with the same fierce passion that consumed him. She returned his kisses, stroked his hair, caressed his skin with loving fingertips, did everything she would never deign to in real life. He recalled every dream with vivid clarity, and it infuriated him, driving him to distraction with unfulfilled need.

Reality intervened every time he attended a royal function, taking his place at the lower end of the banquet hall amongst the other knights and lesser nobles. She would never speak to him, let alone respond to his request for a dance, so he kept as low a profile as possible, attending to his duties at the beginning and end of the evening, forming the honour guard as the royal family entered and left the banquet hall. It got him too close too Princess Karina for comfort, and now he wondered how he could ever take his place there again.

He finally came to Lorenso's latched doors. Alecsis drummed angry fists against the wood. He wasn't certain whether the anger was directed at Lorenso for not answering him or at himself for making such a fool of himself.

"What an I to do, Lorenso?" he demanded of the unyielding door, leaning his burning forehead against the cool wood. "Might as well saddle my horse and take myself away from here right now."

Eventually he stepped away from the door. As he turned, Alecsis noticed a short black cape hanging from a hook beside the door. He was certain it hadn't been there when he'd started pounding on it. Lorenso must have used magic to put it there. Alecsis snatched the garment up.

"That wasn't the kind of help I had in mind," he muttered ungraciously, but slipped it over his shoulders nevertheless. It wasn't until it settled against his bare skin that he realised how cold he'd become standing in the dark, damp corridor.

On leaden feet Alecsis returned to his chamber, awaiting the king's summons with dread clenching at his insides. It didn't come that night, and Alecsis eventually fell into a restless sleep.

Certain that his dreams of the princess would now be over, he was shocked to wake several hours later, the memory of her pressed against his naked flesh fresh in his mind, her own skin bare and soft to his exploring fingers.

Alecsis rolled over, burying his face in his hands. "Why!" he demanded of his pillows. "Why torment me so when you'll never be mine?"

Being in between assignments, Alecsis kept to his room for most of the following day. He dreaded every footstep in the corridor outside his door, fearing it was the king's guard come for him.

On the third evening the knock came, and Alecsis lifted his weary body from the bed he'd barely left these past days. "Come," he called. "It's not locked."

"Then it should be," Sir Sumon poked his head around it. "Ye're too trusting by far, young Alecsis." He stepped into the room. He wrinkled his nose. "And not even bathed."

"Bathed for what?" Alecsis asked crankily, as Sir Sumon's servant entered the room, a rich burgundy garment draped over one arm. Threaded heavily with gold, it looked fit for a lord.

"For tonight's reception. Surely you haven't forgotten," the old knight chided, pulling back the drapes. The pale afternoon sunshine revealed Alecsis's untidy room. Sir Sumon shook his head, and Alecsis noticed that he was already dressed in his best, a dark purple suit belted at the waist over black velvet tights.

"I'm not going," Alecsis muttered.

"Why ever not? Ye sick?" Sumon asked, his face creasing in concern.

Alecsis flopped back down on the bed. "Aye." He placed a hand over his stomach. "It hurts. Something I ate, no doubt." He swept another arm over his brow, trying to hide his face beneath his wrist, but the old knight drew it away, peering into Alecsis's face.

"Ye're sick all right, love sick, by the looks of it."

Alecsis flinched, yanking his wrist away as thought stung.

"I see I'm right." He shook his head. "And the lady in question returns not your amours?"

"Who would care for the likes of me?" Alecsis demanded harshly.

"Who indeed? When ye mope and wallow in the dark like a sniveling child. Ye're Alecsis, first knight of the king's army. Now take up yer responsibilities and show the girl what ye're made of."

If only you knew, Alecsis thought miserably to himself, knowing the knight would force him to attend no matter how much he feigned illness.

Sir Sumon waved his servant forward, motioning for him the hold out the garments he carried. He laid the brocade suit over the back of the chair, revealing a ruffled white shirt and a pair of matching brocade trousers.

"A gift, I believe, from the lady in question," Sir Sumon said as Alecsis gaped at the fine clothes. Alecsis's eyes darted back to the knight.

"What do ye know of this?" he demanded, springing form the bed.

"Not as sick as he looks now," the old knight grinned.

"Don't jest with me, Sir Sumon. Where did these garments come from?" Alecsis pointed accusingly at them.

"They were brought to me with a message that they be delivered to Sir Alecsis, a gift from the Princess Karina. I was to say she sewed them herself. Sat up all night, by the look of that fine stitching."

Alecsis shook his head in disbelief. "No. No. It can't be true. 'Tis a trick, a trick to trap me into revealing what I did the other day."

"And what was that?" Sir Sumon asked quietly.

Alecsis continued to shake his head. "I'm certain you already know."

"All I know is that the princess wants so see our first knight looking his best tonight. Tomas," he turned to his servant. "Order a bath for Sir Alecsis, and bring some scented soup for his hair." He turned back to Alecsis as the man hurried to do his bidding. "Isn't it about time you took on a squire, someone to see to the things you can't be bothered with yourself, like making yourself handsome for your princess."

"I'll never be handsome."

Sir Sumon merely chuckled at the foolishness of youth.

The suit fitted remarkably well for a garment that he hadn't been measured for, but Alecsis reasoned the princess had seen enough of him to estimate his height and girth. He dubiously tied the matching sash around his waist, worry at the true meaning behind the gift gnawing at his insides. Was the stitching poisoned, designed to dissolve halfway through the night perhaps?

The white shirt didn't do up all the way to his neck, making him wonder why she hadn't returned his own. Because the stitching won't dissolve on that, he answered himself cynically. Well, whatever challenge you have in store for me, Princess Karina, I'll accept, for I shan't be staying past this night.

It had been there in the back of his mind, but he'd been reluctant to act on it, waiting... waiting for what? The princess's revenge? Tonight he would ride into the night and leave his tormenting dreams behind. The more distance he put between Karina and himself the better off he'd be.

### He belted The Holy Avenger to his side, and slipped into his dragon hide boots, stunned at how well they matched his new dissolving suit. He smiled cynically, making Sir Sumon look at him questioningly.

"Ye look grand, Sir Alecsis, a true knight of the realm." He tugged at Alecsis's braided hair. "Not bad for an old man who hasn't plaited a braid since his little girl got old enough to do it herself."

### "I can do it myself," Alecsis muttered. "I just didn't feel like it."

"I know, fingers too nervous," the old knight laughed dashing from the room as fast as his lame leg would allow.

They took their place at the head of the honour guard, old first knight opposite his tall young replacement. Even though he could no longer fight, Sir Sumon would always hold a place of honour in the king's court. He still oversaw the knights practice sessions, and advised the king on strategy. All the knights were there tonight, dressed in their best.

A few curious glances were directed at Alecsis's new suit, and he looked down a few times to make sure it was still there. At one stage it started to itch, and he wondered if the poison was starting to take effect. But itch was all it did. A new garment that needed to be worn in. That was all it appeared to be.

As the king entered the great hall by way of the gold embossed double doors at its end, the knights stepped back and raised their swords high into the air. The king began to walk through the tunnel of blades, his jewel encrusted boots clicking on the marble tiles. His two sons followed, both dressed like peacocks. King Rostan reached Sir Sumon and Sir Alecsis, and nodded at both of them in turn. The princes' ignored Sumon, but glared at Alecsis as they stepped under his sword.

Then they were gone, taking their place at the royal table upon the dais. Alecsis didn't turn his head back, even though he knew the final member of the royal family walked towards him down the honour guard. He felt her presence, coming ever closer. Her slippered feet fell into his line of vision. They were gold like the hem of her skirt. But the rest of her gown was burgundy, the same colour as Alecsis's suit. Even the pattern sewn into the rich red fabric matched his.

What was she thinking of, sewing them a matching set of clothes? Again he felt his face flush, and knew he had turned as red as his outfit.

She glanced sideways at him, a small, knowing smile playing about her ruby lips. Above her gold crown, Sir Sumon grinned at him. Then she stepped past them, gliding up to the royal table. Alecsis lowered his gaze, certain everyone was staring at him. One by one the paired knights lowered their weapons.

As Alecsis slipped into his place at the head of the knight's table, he sighed in relief. He was as far away from Princess Karina as he could get. He knew now that he would have to leave tonight. He'd let her play out her humiliation of him. What did he have to lose now?

"Did ye go to the same tailor, or something?" Sir Rankin jibed across the table at him. "Our beauty and the beast, both dressed in red."

The rest of the knights laughed raucously, drawing glances from the next table.

"It seemed to amuse the princess though," Sir Linsten remarked. "Did ye see 'er smile. What I wouldn't give for the likes of 'er in me bed."

"That'll never come to pass. A princess and a knight!" Rankin sneered. "That's almost as ludicrous as Sir Alecsis here catching the royal eye."

Sir Sumon placed a placating hand over Alecsis's as he glared across the table at the jeering knights. "They know not what we know," he said close to his ear.

"And what do we know, Sumon?" Alecsis returned. "That the princess has a bizarre sense of humour."

"Just drink yer wine."

Alecsis picked up his goblet. Were he not leaving tonight, he would have drunk more, but he allowed himself a few sips. The alcohol helped calm his jangling nerves. When the food arrived, he ate as heartily as the rest of them, the white ruffles at his wrists a constant reminder of the princess's taunt.

The evening flowed as usual. Minstrels and jesters came forth to entertain the royal party. Once the monarchy had eaten enough to make themselves ill the musicians began to play dance music, and couples drifted towards the dance floor.

One by one the knights left their table to try their luck with various maids in the room. Only Alecsis and the older men remained. They mostly talked of past conquests, times long gone. Eventually Alecsis got up and headed for his usual retreat.

All around the hall were alcoves set with tall arched windows. Sometimes more amorous couples gravitated there to gaze at the stars reflecting in each others' eyes. The first alcove Alecsis came to was occupied with a pair so entwined he knew not where one began and the other ended.

He headed for the next one along. Grateful to finally be alone, he perched upon the window sill and turned his attention to the night sky. Stars winked down at him, so bright and yet so far away. They seemed to be taunting him, daring him to find a partner to join him in his romantic alcove.

A soft giggle startled him. A couple had stepped past the curtains. They hadn't seen Alecsis as they embraced, but he couldn't slip quietly past them unseen. There wasn't enough space. He noisily cleared his throat, and the couple jerked apart. To his dismay, Alecsis recognised the man.

Boran's passion flushed face contorted into contempt. "You dare to intrude on the royal personage."

"May I remind your royal Highness I was here first." It was entirely the wrong thing to say. The girl darted a terrified glance around, and then dashed from the alcove.

"Get back here, Simmi," Boran roared. To Alecsis's surprise she complied, stopping just inside the velvet drapes. Boran returned his attention to Alecsis. "See this man, Simmi. What does he represent to you?"

Simmi gaped like a fish, her pretty mouth opening and closing.

"I'll tell you what he represents to me. Get on your knees, knight." He commanded. Alecsis did as he bade. One more night, he reminded himself. You can do it. Endure just a little longer.

"This is what he represents. A groveling animal. That's all he is, a beast from the jungle, not fit to dress in fine clothes." He unsheathed his sword, and held it against Alecsis's cheek. He felt cold metal against his jaw.

"Please," the girl begged, clasping hold of the prince's other arm. "Don't kill him. He's done naught wrong, and he was here first."

"He's done everything wrong... He's Serpon spawned, and I should lop off his head right here and now." He sheathed the blade. "But I shan't, for he'll reveal his true colours soon enough."

With that he spun away, the terrified girl following in his wake. Alecsis remained where he was, his guts churning sickly. He had always known Boran hated him, but never with such viciousness that he actually wished him dead.

There was no doubt about it now. He would have to leave tonight. With shaking knees he scrambled to his feet. For a moment he stood there, leaning against the window frame for support. The curtain moved again. He placed his hand on the hilt of his sword. Had Boran returned to carry out his threat? No, a female figure stepped into the alcove, the Princess Karina.

She came closer, her beauty like a spider's web draping over him, trapping him there. He couldn't have moved had he wanted to.

"Your Highness," he murmured inclining his head.

She peered up at him from under her long dark lashes, her sapphire blue eyes huge and haunting. He felt her hand against his tunic, her fingers brushing against the fine linen of his shirt.

"Do you like your new clothes?" she asked softly.

He nodded numbly. Trapped. Trapped. Helpless against the warm soft fingers brushing against his exposed throat. He swollowed down a lump the size of a boulder. Perhaps he really was dreaming, had dreamed the entire evening. Her fingers slipped up under his chin, tracing the line of his jaw. But lord, it felt real, far too real.

Her touch left a trail of longing burning under his skin. He clenched his hands tightly at his side, his nails digging into his palms as he fought against the urge to gather her tightly against him.

"I like to sketch, Alecsis," she continued. "Would you allow me to draw you?"

"Oh - of course," he gasped, at once disappointed and relieved she wanted nothing more than to have him as an artists' model. For a moment he had actually dared to hope... Hope what? That she might actually find him desirable? Him the beast from the jungle.

"Tomorrow?" She cupped his chin, turning his face to one side to examine his profile.

She only wants to study you, he reminded himself. Learn the lines of an unusually cast face she can capture on paper. Still his pulse throbbed in his veins.

"Aye, tomorrow, your Highness," he agreed, knowing that tomorrow he would no longer be here.

"I will send a servant to fetch you at nine. Or is that too early?"

"Nay, your Highness. I rise at dawn."

"At nine then."

He inclined his head and turned away.

"Alecsis," she promoted, forcing her to meet his gaze again. "Ye won't disappoint me, will you?" Something in her expression caught hold of his heart. "You will come."

"Aye," he agreed, suddenly knowing that he could never leave her. He'd well and truly been snared, trapped by her feminine magic. "Tomorrow," he promised.

Karina sent Nira to the markets the following morning. She had given her maid a long list of items to purchase. As Nira liked to tarry and gossip with the stallholders, Karina was unlikely to see her until well after noon.

With Nira gone, she stood before her closet, agonising over what to wear. Any one of her ball gowns would do, but as it was day time none of them seemed appropriate. Eventually she settled on a flowing white dress, with a row of gold buttons down the front.

A knock came at the door as she finished brushing her hair. She hurried to the outer door of her rooms. The youth she had dispatched stood there, and behind him lurked the tall form of her model, his blonde hair neatly secured in a ponytail at his nape. The servant bowed and then departed.

"Come in," she said, suddenly feeling shy at being left alone with him.

He inclined his head and stepped forward. As he entered her outer chamber, she took a moment to study him. No matter what he wore, clothes seemed to cling to him like a second skin. Today, he too was clad in white, another loose, long sleeved shirt tucked into a pair of brown breeches.

He surveyed the large, feminine room, turning in a circle as he took in the billowing curtains, the chinz covered easy chairs. Not once did he stop to admire Karina's attire.

Perhaps he harboured no interest in her after all. Karina knew she was pretty, but she was also levelheaded enough to realise that most men who sought her out were only interested because of her position. Alecsis had not given her any indication that he liked her in any way, remaining distantly polite at all times. At first she had thought it was simply out of respect. Few knights considered themselves worthy of royalty any higher than a lady or duchess.

"We are to work here alone?" he asked. "No servant to watch over your maidenhood?"

"Is it in any danger?" she quipped back.

He averted his gaze. "Nay, your Highness."

"Then we shall work alone. Come," she motioned towards a chintz easy chair in front of the window. "I think I shall have you sit here."

As he passed her easel, he saw a watercolour upon it. "I have already posed for you, I see." He stopped for a closer look.

Karina blushed, despite her good intentions not to. She had thought long and hard whether to let him see how much he interested her. If he didn't take the bait now, he never would. "I did that mainly from memory. I know now I got your face completely wrong."

"Nay, 'tis a good likeness." His tone gave nothing away.

"Come." She touched his arm to urge him to his spot, and felt him tense under his shirt. Again she wondered if she was wasting her time. A new thought struck her. Perhaps he abhorred a woman's touch. Karina had heard of men being strung up for the crime of homosexuality. Although she hoped Alecsis was not one of those, she could never understand why people were punished so cruelly for loving their own gender.

Alecsis did as she bade, taking his place in the ornately carved chair. "How would you have me sit, your Highness?" He placed his hands on the armrests.

Karina tired to concentrate on the task at hand, and went to stand beside her easel. "For one, I would like you to wear your hair lose."

He reached for the ribbon securing his locks, and with a toss of his head, they bounced free.

"Perfect," she murmured, stepping behind her easel. "Just look relaxed. You may rest your head against the back of the chair if you wish." He did as she bade, a curious smile dancing about his lips.

"What's so funny?" she demanded.

"If I start snoring, 'tis due to the warm sunshine and relaxed position."

"Do that and I shall throw my pencils at you," she retorted.

He grinned across at her. "Ouch."

How could any woman fail to find him desirable? Karina asked herself. Certainly, he was an alien from another land, but he smiled more sweetly than any man she knew. And as for the way he filled out his clothes! None of the fops who approached her at the royal functions had such well-defined muscles.

While Karina concentrated on her work, Alecsis studied her through lowered lashes, noting the generous curves of her body beneath her pretty frock. It had been a mistake to come here, but he knew not know how to turn down a royal request. Could she see the effect she had on him? Would she draw the obvious bulge into her picture? Alecsis squirmed at the thought.

"Will you sit still?" she commanded. "Ye've only been there for ten minutes."

"It feels like hours."

"If I'd known ye'd be such an uncooperative model, I would never have suggested it. Now stop fidgeting. Anyone would think ye had ants in yer pants."

Alecsis couldn't believe it. Her gaze fell directly upon the part of his anatomy he had been trying to hide. He drew up one leg, crossing it over the other.

"Ye're impossible!" she laughed, sticking a pencil behind a delicate ear. She came to stand directly in front of him, and motioned to the offending leg. "Put it back," she commanded, pointing the floor.

"Make me."

She placed her hands on her hips. "I should have ye punished for your impudence."

"And exactly what kind of punishment does her Royal Highness have in mind?" he asked, the corners of his mouth quirking.

### Her heart fluttered with joy and desire. He was interested. "That you should pose for me every day for a month."

He flung his arms across his face in mock horror. "Not that!" he cried. "Anything but that."

Karina burst into peals of laughter, doubling over with mirth. Giddy with joy, she swung around, and stumbled over one of his feet, landing square in Alecsis's lap. He appeared as stunned as she to find her there.

"Your Majesty?" he queried, his face only inches from her own.

"I think it high time we dispensed with the title. Call me Karina." She steadied herself by placing a hand on his shoulder. His soft blonde curls whispered against her skin, making her shiver with delight.

"Karriiina." He spoke it so sensuously she melted against his chest. A large warm hand slid around her waist, and she sighed in pleasure. "Are you certain we should be doing this?"

She stared into his wide, green eyes. "Do you want to help me, Alecsis?" she whispered.

"Anything my princess."

"Then kiss me, warrior from beyond. Kiss me before I die from wanting you," she urged, pressing her hips against his throbbing manhood.

Alecsis moaned, believing himself to be in the deepest of dreams. He tilted his head towards her, and gently brushed his lips against hers. They felt as warm and soft as sun-kissed petals.

"You call that a kiss?" she chided, tightening her hold on him. Opening her mouth over his, she urged his tongue inside.

Again Alecsis moaned, totally lost within his most exquisite dream. He trembled from head to foot, clasping her tightly against him, fearing that any moment she would vanish, and he would find himself back in his lonely bed.

Even the insistent thumping against the outer door failed to ease the bliss of being in Alecsis's arms. Once she had shown him the way, he wasted no time in responding to her needs, lunging into an endless kiss of unrestrained passion.

The sneering remarks from her older brother finally penetrated her ears, and she withdrew from Alecsis's embrace.

Boran pointed an accusing finger at Alecsis. "I knew ye couldn't be trusted. I tried to warn Father, but would he listen? Nay. But now ye've shown yer true colours, assaulting my sister in her own bedchamber."

"Boran!" Karina cried. "That isn't what ha-" She never got to finish her sentence.

"I think Father should know what transpired in here this morning."

"Nay Boran!" Karina tried again. "Alecsis didn't- "

"Alecsis is a heathen, a barbarian who should have been executed the moment he walked out of the jungle." He waved towards the incomplete portrait. "How you can even bear to be in the same room as this - this beast, is beyond me, let alone submit to his unholy lusts - "

"I could fight you right here and now," Alecsis cried in outrage, springing from his chair to tower over the obese prince.

### "And I shall add threats to the royal person to the charges," Boran sneered. "T'is not looking good for you Sir Alecsis."

For a moment the two men glared at one another.

"Don't Alecsis. You'll only make it worse." She took hold of one of his clenched fists. "I will stand by you."

He turned troubled eyes to her. "Why?" he asked softly.

"Because I care for you."

He simply stared.

"Don't you believe me?"

"How could one as beautiful as you come to care for the likes of me?"

"Because you enchanted me with your kiss."

Boran's derisive laughter echoed down the hall, and Karina urged Alecsis after him. "We must reach Father before Boran twists the truth out of all proportion."

King Rostan sat in his reception chair in the council chamber. A meeting was about to begin, but Boran had convinced the officiary to wait outside while he spoke with his father. Karina and Alecsis burst into the room only minutes after him, having devised a plan of sorts as they ran down the echoing castle corridors.

Alecsis feared it would not work. Karina had made him promise to marry her. He wanted nothing more, but how could he believe she truly cared for him? Something told him she had entirely different motives for wanting to convince her father she desired such a union. He stongly suspected she wanted to get out of something, to escape plans already made for her.

"I have decided upon my own marriage partner," Karina declared, as she stopped before her father, her hand still clasped in Alecsis's. "Ye need look no further, Father. I have found him, Alecsis, First Knight of your Royal Army."

Rostan's eyes first opened in surprise before narrowing in intense contemplation. "He is an alien, not even of royal blood. It cannot be daughter of mine."

"You've been listening to Boran's lies."

"Boran speaks the truth, albeit tainted with hatred. I think 'tis best to send Sir Alecsis away..."

"Ye'll not have him beheaded?" Boran exploded.

### "For what? A kiss?" Rostan returned his attention to the pair before him, their hands joined. "I believe ye truly care for this man, Karina." He waved his hand regally from his daughter to her knight. "A final quest to vanquish the evil Pirate Krystos, and then I shall find you a good post within another court. But marriage is out of the question. Karina shall be wed to a man of my choosing, someone of her own station and ... culture."

Karina started to weep, making Alecsis realise she did truly care for him. His dreams had come true, and his heart contracted with love. What could he do to convince the king that they should be together?

"The Pirate Krystos you said?" Never having heard of such a foe, Alecsis wondered if the king had made him up simply to remove him from court.

"Yes, the evil blaggard has already caused a great deal damage to the northern provinces. He and his crew pillage and loot wherever the whim takes them, and no army has been able to pinpoint his next port of call, let alone defeat him. You are the best warrior this land has ever seen. Will ye lead my army to defeat him and his minions?"

"On one condition," Alecsis declared, one final spark of hope firing.

"Do not address his Highness like that!" Boran hissed, stepping on the dais beside his father.

Rostan ignored him. "And what should that be, Alecsis?"

"If what you say about Captain Krystos is correct, then I am risking certain death." Beside him Karina shuddered, another sign of the depth of her feelings for him. "Surely allowing me to wed your daughter if I return is not too much to ask."

### "Not too much to ask!" Boran shrieked. "You elevate yourself way above your station, knight."

"From what I have heard," Alecsis continued, speaking directly to the king. "You have nothing much to gain by any alliance between Karina and a fellow nobleman. We are now at peace, and the royal coffers are full. Your people are content, prospering in fact. Do you not have to offer a dowry for your daughter? If you chose me, I ask for naught more than her hand. No money, no jewels, just your lovely daughter."

"How touching!" the prince sneered. "He wants her because none other will have his ugly hide."

"Will you shut up, Boran?" the king bellowed.

"I truly do love ye, Alecsis," Karina whispered through her tears.

"And I you my princess."

"I dared not hope."

"Could you not feel it in my kiss?"

"Return with the Pirate Krystos's head and Karina will be yours," King Rostan decided. "Now be off with you. I have a council meeting to convene."

Once they had left the chamber, she turned to Alecsis, her eyes fearful. "Father asks too much. The Pirate Krystos! How could he? I'm so afeard you will not return this time."

### He took her into his arms, stroking her hair. "Don't cry my darling love. The Holy Avenger won't let me die."

"Even enchanted swords have been known to fail," she cried against his chest. "I shall have another talk with Father. You've served him for so long. You've proved time and again how worthy you are of my love."

"'If the Pirate Krystos truly is as fearsome as the king says, then it must be I who confronts him. Now kiss me farewell, my love. I will return, I promise you."
EIGHT

CLASH OF ENCHANTMENT

Leonado's head still reeled at what he had seen in his magic sphere tonight. Determined to catch a glimpse of his father before Dragonfire managed to take control him completely, instead he had chanced upon the king's council chamber. He saw Karina, his old playmate, clasping the hand of an exceptionally tall, pale man.

### He could barely believe it. One of Captain Rose's crew had survived and made it south. Leonado was certain he hadn't been amongst those to set off into the jungle the day he brought The Crystal Rose to the Pavlo Inlet. He was certain he would have remembered a man who looked like that.

Somehow he must have survived in the water, eventually being swept to shore by the strong southerly currents. But what amazed Leonado even more was that somehow this man had become a knight in the king's army, and that he had some kind of hold over the princess. Leonado cursed his inability to yield sounds from the magic sphere, and thus find out what they were arguing about.

He debated telling Captain Krystos about the tall, pale knight, but decided to let it lie. They barely discussed anything these days, their lives bound too strongly to their respective masters.

### I'd keep my eyes on that knight if I were you, Dragonfire advised him. I believe he might be of considerable interest to us in the future.

His feet aching with weariness, Sir Alecsis led his army through the dense Blanco Forest at a plodding pace. He never though he would have to travel through this vile, festering place again, but it was the only way north along this particular stretch of coastline.

### The humidity and biting insects were taking their toll, making the heavily armored soldiers sluggish and ill-tempered as they trudged along rough, unmarked trails, through countryside filled with vicious predators. Alecsis had managed to keep the nameless beasts at bay with his soothing thoughts and magic artifacts. The weight of the gold-hilted Avenger in its scabbard was comforting at his side. The jeweled belt encircling his waist had helped him on several occasions. The great sapphire rendered him invisible, the ruby allowed him to see in the dark, and the green emerald enabled him to fly. Alecsis had several other powerful items at his disposal; his healing pouch which Lorenso had refilled numerous times, and a gilded dagger that sliced a kill until enough could be shared by everyone.

Alecsis had once welcomed these special gifts. Now all he wanted was for his final battle to end. He was spurred on by the knowledge that at the end of this mission he would get his reward, the promise of Princess Karina's hand.

Not all his men would make it home to their wives and families. Some had already succumbed to an illness nobody could name, and Alecsis's herbs couldn't heal. Jungle fever, the men called it, crossing themselves with fear in their eyes. Even now several could barely keep themselves upright, their minds already numbed by the strange delirium that marked the early stages of the illness. Knowing what was to come, Alecsis shivered with fear. In the end, their dementia caused them to commit suicide, usually by impaling themselves on their swords.

Navin, God of the Land, didn't seem to have any powers of protection in this alien and frightening place. Although he hadn't known it then, She had kept Alecsis safe on his initial journeys. It seemed Serpon, the Dark Lord ruled supreme in the jungle, the God the Pirate Krystos obviously worshiped.

During the early leg of the journey, his advisors had told him what they knew of Krystos, which was pity little. His ship had appeared out of nowhere, a massive warship the likes of which no one had ever seen. They said it could shoot fire balls capable destroying entire townships. The pirate captain fought like a demon, murdering whole crews without a qualm.

Alecsis didn't know how much to believe of these tall tales, for if the pirate captain really was so ruthless, why hadn't anyone been dispatched to take care of him sooner?

"No one left alive to pass the tale on perhaps," a soldier said dryly.

"Well, I've been told his vessel was last sighted at the Pavlo Inlet. If he's not there, we'll keep looking until we do find him," Alecsis answered, knowing he had no choice but to hunt down the evil pirate. Without Captain Krystos's head on a stick Princess Karina would never be his.

A shout brought Alecsis and his men to an abrupt halt. A leather-clad soldier, longbow slung over one shoulder, approached with a message. "We have reached the Pavlo Inlet," he panted. "We can camp overlooking it."

The dense, damp vegetation gave way to stunted trees, then a grassy slope which dropped into a rugged decline a couple of hundred feet away. As the warriors dismounted and began setting up camp, Alecsis gratefully shed his clanking plaitmail and joined two soldiers in creeping to the cliff's edge. He prayed the pirates were still there. Those still fit to fight, sixty men in all, still outnumbered their foes.

The final rays of sunshine slanted across the ocean's rippling surface. Alecsis took in the magnificent display of colour as they hunkered down in the waving grasses. The sky turned crimson, then orange, and finally deep blue, the water reflecting the sunset in brilliant detail.

He cast his gaze over the numerous tents pitched on the grassy embankment not far from a sandy white beach. Scruffy pirates milled around fires, preparing evening meals.

"Thank the Gods, they are here," Alecsis whispered to Antano. "Captain Krystos must own the big, brightly-coloured tent at the centre."

"Aye," the youth agreed. "But where is their vessel?"

Alecsis wondered the same thing. Pirates spent much of their time aboard sailing ships, and Krystos's was conspicuously absent. "It could be anchored in another bay," he said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Not a good sign. Perhaps they knew we were coming."

"How do you suggest we find out?"

"As soon as the sun goes down, I want you to take three scouts and find out how many watchmen they have and what their plans are. They must be disposed of. If all goes well, we attack at dawn."

Antano nodded in agreement, long brown hair falling into his eyes. "Aye, Sir Alecsis." The young man had grown handsome and strong, with fighting skills that would soon set him among the best. Even though he was usually good-humoured, occasional bouts of melancholy reminded Alecsis of the great loss he had suffered.

His anger over losing his father surfaced every time they charged into battle. Antano continued to fell the king's enemies with deadly intent, revenge blazing in his eyes as he hacked into their foes.

The four scouts set off. Three remained behind to watch over the warriors as they ate a cold meal, then crawled into their bedrolls. Sir Alecsis had banned the use of fires in case they were detected by the pirates camped below.

Antano and his scouts returned not long after the moon had risen, reporting that the pirates were being guarded by three watchmen, two of whom were rolling drunk.

Apparently, during the pirates' last attack, they had managed to acquire some kegs of very fine Alurian brandy.

"And they know not of our presence?" Alecsis asked.

"None whatsoever, Sir," Antano answered confidently.

"Good work, Tano." He clapped him on the shoulder. "What of the ship?"

"Nothing was mentioned."

"Never mind," Alecsis answered lifting a dismissive hand. "Get some sleep. We rise at dawn."

Several hours later the soldiers readied themselves for battle. A soft glow purpled the eastern horizon when Antano led his scouts back down into the valley, their job clear; dispose of the watchmen.

As the knights crept down the hillside, using the long grasses and scruffy trees as cover, Antano returned, announcing that all three watchmen were dead. "We had the bastards unseamed 'ere they knew what hit them."

Alecsis sped up his pace. By the time they reached the Pavlo Inlet's sandy flat ground, they were moving at a run, clanking and rattling like a tinker's cart.

### "Remember, Krystos is mine!" Alecsis cried as he drew The Holy Avenger. Its blade started to glow, turning ember-white as it detected the presence of powerful evil. Never before had it glowed so brightly, and Alecsis shivered, fearing a negative outcome to this day.

Without the watchers to sound the alarm, the pirates did not hear the approaching knights until they charged into the camp. Armour-plated warriors hacked into the tents, killing befuddled pirates as they scrambled out of bedrolls and groped for their weapons.

Even though buccaneers stumbled into his way, swords upraised, Alecsis dispatched them without even slowing his stride. Men fell groaning and dying behind him as he ploughed through the camp, seeing only Krystos's tent. Some of his fellow warriors didn't fare so well. Despite the surprise of their attack, the pirates were quick to fight back, killing and maiming several of Sir Alecsis's men with their deadly sabers.

Krystos woke to the sounds of carnage. At first he thought he was still asleep, dreaming of bloodshed and death.

### Leonado, who had been slumbering beside him, poked his head out of the canvas flap of their tent. He's come then, has he? Dragonfire asked.

### Yes, just like you predicted he would.

### Good. With the two enchanted swords in our grasp we'll be able to accomplish the task you could not.

Leonado sighed, preparing for the battle ahead. His head still smarted from Dragonfire's wrath. He had tried so hard to draw on enough power to bring down the cliff faces of northern Avion, but all he'd managed were minor rock falls.

He knew now why Dragonfire required such a powerful mage. He was trapped beneath a mountain and wanted his freedom. It reminded Leonado of his father's tales of his dragon hunting days, and feared that he'd been summoned to free the very beast he'd thought dead all these years. If Dragonfire really was one of the red dragons then he was in deep deep trouble.

"What's going on out there?" Krystos demanded, jamming his feet into his boots.

"Just the king's men come to kill you," Leonado answered laconically.

### "What!" Krystos exploded. "Ye knew of this and never told me! Ye saw their approach through yer magic sphere, and ye never thought to tell me!"

### "I might have. Ye have the most powerful sword at your disposal. Take care of them yourself." He couldn't wait to see Krystos's face when he saw the pale knight and The Holy Avenger. Leonado had never actually laid eyes upon the weapon, but he'd heard much about it. Kept under lock and key in the king's safe, he was stunned to now see it in the hands of one of Krystos's countrymen.

As Leonado had watched the pale knight and his men make the harrowing journey north through his glass spere, he realized that he too must be in possession of magical powers. Why else would his own father have given the man the artifacts that aided him in battle? Why else would the king have elevated him to such a position in command? A new kind of jealousy coursed through him, one tinged with regret and sorrow. His father must have befriended the pale knight, and his playmate seemed to desire him above all others. To all intents and purposes he'd taken Leonado's place in the hearts of those he'd once held dear. This was his last coherent thought as himself, before Dragonfire took over his soul once more.

### Krystos had no time to argue with the sorcerer as the sound of fighting drew closer to his tent. Why had he listened to Leonado when he suggested they camp on the shore for a few days while he practiced his new invisibility spell on The Crystal Rose? Now they would pay for this folly.

### He scrambled from his tent to the sight of his pirates falling to soldiers far more experienced in warfare. Darkfire started to pulse with bloodlust in his hand. He darted his gaze around, catching sight of a figure running towards him. It wasn't merely the strange bright glow of the sword clasped in his hand, but the unusual appearance of the man. Krystos gasped in surprise, stunned to see one of his own countrymen.

"But, but I thought they all died," he gasped out loud. He stared at the tall, fair man, his striking face grim with determination, emerald eyes blazing with vengeance. For a moment Krystos had no idea who he was.

When recognition came, a blood curdling scream tore from his throat, and he rushed at him, determined to end his life once and for all.

Alecsis slowed, swinging his sword into a defensive position, watching the muscular, leather-clad figure bounding towards him, his thick black hair pulled severely back in a long braid. A huge black saber glinted wickedly in its right hand. It appeared to be eating the light of the approaching dawn. Was that sword as enchanted as his own? "Captain Krystos?"

"Hello Alecsis," the unusually tall man answered. He looked formidable in his black armour. King Rostan hadn't exaggerated. This man made a deadly enemy. "And how very unlike you - murdering us in our beds!"

An icy shiver rocked down Alecsis's spine. Something from his past tried to infiltrate his mind, but as he metally tried to grasp it, it wafted back out of reach, leaving a foul taste in his mouth. "Have we met?"

Krystos laughed harshly at the strange poetic justice of the situation. Here they were, life long enemies standing face to face, both in possession of an enchanted weapon.

### Then a thought struck him, so brilliant, it momentarily blinded him. Leonado might have led him astray by not telling him of Alecsis's coming, but neither did he know the role the young man had played in ruining Krystos's life. Krystos realized he could have everything he ever dreamed of. "Not on these shores. Now prepare to die! Darkfire will tear your soul out 'ere ye realize 'tis gone!"

### Alecsis flung up The Avenger as the dark sailor came at him with his saber. The foul stench of black magic attacked his nostrils, making his stomach heave. Alecsis had never taken on another enchanted weapon before, and doubt clenched at his heart. No, he had a promise to keep. With Karina's image at the forefront of his mind, he swung to defend Krystos's blow.

### Holy Avenger and Darkfire met with a shower of magical sparks. Alecsis felt the metal beneath his fingers grow hot as good fought against evil. The pirate captain forced him to recall all the lessons he'd been taught in swordsmanship. What dark master had taught Krystos to fight so well? Alecsis asked himself, as he was forced not only to deflect against Darkfire, but against kicks and leg-sweeps. And from where had he acquired such a deadly weapon?

### A sudden flash of bright light momentarily blinded Alecsis. He stumbled back, and Darkfire pierced his midriff. Cold hatred tore at his heart, and evil ate into his body even after he'd jumped away from the blade.

### "No!" Alecsis snarled, swinging wildly and forcing Krystos back. Blood poured down the inside of his armour, its rank odor filling his nostrils. For the first time The Holy Avenger failed to heal his wound. What sinister game was the evil pirate playing now? "Sorcerer," he spat.

Krystos shook his head. "I am not the sorcerer. He be over yonder." He jerked a thumb over his shoulder - just as a lanky figure stepped into view. He was young, with spiky, multi-coloured hair, and earrings adorning both ears. His blood-red robe shimmered in the early morning sunlight, completing the ensemble of utter vanity. "Leonado – help me destroy this creature!"

"As you wish." Leonado lifted his hands, preparing a spell to wrench the swords from their grasps. He'd watched long enough, and Dragonfire grew impatient.

### What does that man have on his feet? Dragonfire boomed inside Leonado's mind.

### What? Leonado asked in confusion. Whose feet?

The one they call Alecsis. I do believe it's dragonhide, made from the skin of my lover. Kill him. Destroy him.

All Leonado's fears were confirmed, but he had no choice but to obey Dragonfire. Already the pain bore down on him. He changed the words of his chant, trying to remember the incantation through the torment Dragonfire wreaked inside his skull.

Alecsis charged him, hoping to reach him before he could finish his spell. He had heard the name Leonado before. It sounded suspiciously like Lorenso. Could this be the wizard's long lost son, the boy he refused to talk about? That thought almost made Alecsis waver, but he forced it back, and increased his pace.

Leonado finished his spell, and lifted his hands to scream out the release word, but nothing emerged from his mouth except a strangled gurgle and bubble of blood. Alecsis stared in disbelief, noticing the shaft of a poisoned arrow protruding from the sorcerer's stomach. Stunned, the sorcerer crumpled to the ground, revealing Antano lowering his crossbow.

"Thank you!" Alecsis gasped.

"No time Sir - your real quarry escapes!" Antano notched another arrow.

The knight spun around in time to see Krystos sprinting past the ravaged pirate tents, his long black cloak flying out behind him like bat-wings. Several of King Rostan's army were already in pursuit, but Krystos managed to hack them down.

Alecsis caught Krystos at the edge of camp, forcing him to turn and meet him in combat. Their swords clashed again and again, but despite their obvious exhaustion, neither managed to do any more damage. Alecsis wondered how much longer he could keep this up. As long as it takes to bring the evil fiend down, he told himself. This final positive thought gave him the strength to catch Krystos off guard, as he spun round with another swoop of his dark weapon.

### With a mighty swing of The Avenger, Alecsis knocked Darkfire from Krystos's gloved fingers. The black sword spun through the air, angry dark sparks sizzling from its blade. It landed with a loud clatter on some nearby rocks. "You're finished," Alecsis growled.

The pirate fell to his knees, hands clasped in mock appeal. His face showed no sign of fear, only contempt. "Have mercy, great knight!" he cried as though it was all a big joke. "Ye wouldst not kill an unarmed victim, would ye?"

Alecsis rested his sword against his shoulder. "I'll show you the mercy you deserve." Thinking only of Karina, he lifted his sword high into the air, and with a mighty swing, lopped off Krystos's sneering head.

Overcome by a sudden bout of dizziness, Alecsis staggered back, his grip tightening around his bloody sword. For some reason he suddenly feared to let it go. Icy pain sliced through his head like knives. It felt as though some cold dark force was trying to take over his mind. In an attempt to steady himself, he squinted against the early morning sunshine, trying to focus on something solid. The only objects directly in front of him were the prone body of Krystos, and his blood-splattered head lying about a foot away. He stared at the leering face, trying to keep only one thought in his mind; endure.

After what felt like an eternity the dizziness eased. He was left with a thundering headache, but at least he was back in control.

"Are you all right, Sir?"

Still unsteady on his feet, he turned to see Antano stop beside him.

"'Tis the wound. I must have lost a great deal of blood," he answered. Too concerned with defeating the evil pirate, his injury had plagued him little, but now that the battle was over, he felt the sharp tug where Krystos's sword had left his mark.

### "Now that he lies dead, perhaps ye'll let me attend to it," his friend said. "Although The Avenger's failure concerns me gravely."

"And I. This has never happened before."

### In their haste to return to Scarthe with their prize, nobody thought to retrieve Darkfire. Neither did they seek out the conspicuously absent warship. Their mission was to return with Krystos's head, and they traveled home with it secure in a vat filled with the pirates' stolen brandy. It needed to be recognizable enough for King Rostan to honour his promise to Sir Alecsis. If he'd been the king Alecsis would have had Captain Krystos banished to the dungeon, where he could live out the rest of his miserable life repenting his sins.

After almost three months on the road, the greatly diminished army marched through Scarthe. Townspeople emerged from their dwellings as though by magic. The word had spread quickly that the pirates were dead. Everyone wanted to see the proof, but Sir Alecsis had strict orders that Krystos's head be presented to the king first. Then it was to be impaled on a spike in the town centre where it would remain until the vultures had picked it clean.

### Still suffering from his battle wounds, Alecsis made a valiant effort to carry himself with grace into King Rostan's throne room. Antano had treated his injuries with the healing herbs too late, only managing to stop the deep gash from bleeding. Time would have to do the rest. But for some reason it seemed to be getting worse instead of better. Alecsis feared that Darkfire's Serpon spawned magic might have something to do with it.

The monarch knew of the soldiers' return, and had ordered the castle guards to guide them to him. Alecsis and Antano carried the vat containing Krystos's head between them, the clatter of their armour echoing up and down the long stone corridor.

The ornate double doors at the end swung inwards as they approached, pulled open by two more of king's guards. The two soldiers reached the dais where King Rostan reclined on his gilded throne. As usual the monarch wore robes encrusted with rubies, emeralds and diamonds, his gold crown sitting low on his balding head. He uncrossed his fleshy arms, motioning for the two men before him to rise. "So you have succeeded in your mission."

"Aye, your Highness," Alecsis replied, as they set the vat down on the marble tiles.

"Let me see it then," the king commanded.

Alecsis and Antano exchanged glances, and removed the lid together, but it was understood that Alecsis present the head. Gritting his teeth, he reached into the swill, thankful he still wore his leather gloves.

But what emerged from the container wasn't the decaying head of Krystos. It was that of a much older man, one Alecsis had never seen before. The dead eyes seemed to stare at him accusingly, damming him for his failure.

"By the Gods! Who is that?" Antano exclaimed.

"I - I know not," Alecsis stammered in confusion, dropping the severed head onto the tiles with a wet splat.

### "What have ye done?" King Rostan roared.

"Somebody must have swapped them," Antano cried.

### "You evil, barbarous traitor! That is none other than Prince Dorban of Braythe Province - my brother!" King Rostan's furious voice echoed around the cavernous chamber. Alecsis heard the word brother repeat itself over and over inside his head, long after it had stopped bouncing off the marble covered walls.

### "Princess Karina will be betrothed to another, someone more worthy." The king pointed an accusing finger at the trembling knight. "You will never see her again!"

### Clasping shaking hands to his temples, Alecsis dropped to his knees. "No!" he screamed. "Nooo!"

### "Guards!" King Rostan roared. "Take this vile creature to the dungeon. On the morrow it will be his head upon a spike in the town square!"

Rough hands hauled Alecsis to his feet and dragged him from the throne room. Through his tear-filled eyes, he saw Antano staring at him in confusion. He too wondered what had gone wrong. What evil had brought this about? Who sought to punish him for doing the king's work?
NINE

NO TRIAL

The night was growing old. Soon it would die, giving birth to a new dawn. Nothing stirred in the darkness, nothing except the rhythmic snores of the man lying on the other side of the smoldering campfire.

Leonado must have slept, but he had no recollection of dozing off. Ever since his brush with death, he had been too wary to close his eyes for long. Had he been a mortal, Leonado would have died, the wound too large and full of poison. He still had to cast a strong rejuvenating spell over himself in order to survive, and it had taken him weeks to recover. If he ever found out who shot that poisoned arrow, he would inflict the culprit with every agonizing torture he could think of.

Part of his anger was directed at himself for not being more careful. A sorcerer as powerful as himself didn't let an oversight like that occur. Dragonfire reminded him of his folly often enough.

During those first pain filled days fighting for his life, his mysterious tutor had been conspicuously absent, letting him suffer alone. Despite the torment of his healing wound, Leonado felt almost like his old self.

### The endless days of pain gave him ample time to think and regret. He'd been a fool, a gullible fool led on by the promise of easy magic. His father had told him often enough that everything worthwhile in life had to be fought for. If only Dragonfire would leave him alone, he'd make amends somehow. He had managed one act of vengance against him. He'd urged Krystos to hide Darkfire somewhere and never reveal its presence to him. For some reason, the captain had been happy to comply, taking the evil blade out of his sight.

Krystos had been a constant companion during those days, feeding him and dressing his wound. Only he wasn't Krystos any more. Forced to lie on his stomach on a makeshift bed in one of the salvaged tents, Leonado caught glimpses of work roughened hands and short, stumpy legs trundling about outside the tent. Even though he appreciated Krystos's care, Leonado felt nothing for him any more. It made him wonder if he ever had. He certainly hadn't been attracted to men whilst still in the care of his father. In fact he felt intense anguish every time he remembered seeing Karina holding the hand of the big brave knight.

How he had gleamed, charging into the camp like a golden god, his enchanted weapon hacking down pirates as he went. Perhaps that had been part of Leonado's problem that morning. Too intent on watching Sir Alecsis and Krystos battle it out, he hadn't paid enough attention to his own safety.

Leonado had tried to talk to Krystos about the knight called Alecsis, but the mere mention of his name sent the captain into a demented rage.

### "He should be dead!" he cried. "How dare he survive to grow so tall and strong? I'll take over his body if it's the last thing I ever do."

"Ye want to go home, and see him as your ticket?" Leonado dared ask. When no answer came, he tried to look up, but the movement chafed at his healing wound, and he lay back down. He had his answer anyhow. Krystos had tried to take over his countryman's body, and failed, which confirmed what Leonado already suspected; mageblood flowed in Alecsis's veins. Only a very powerful mage could survive such an attack.

### There's no point in regrets, young Leonado, Dragonfire broke into his reverie. We may have failed to capture the sword and kill Alecsis this time, but we'll try again as soon as you're able to travel. You won't fail me again. A man who dares to defame the memory of my partner by wearing her hide deserves a slow and painful death.

Shocked and disappointed to discover his tutor had reaturned to haunt him, he remained silent for a moment.

### Don't ignore me, Leonado. You know I don't like it. The young sorcerer felt the familiar pain bearing down upon his mind.

### What about Krystos? He wants Alecsis for himself, he asked eventually.

With The Holy Avenger and Darkfire in Krystos's grasp, you and he should have no trouble in bringing the mountain down. Without his sword, Alecsis will be as helpless as a new born babe. I think I'll take care of him myself once I'm free. Krystos won't take him over. He already tried and failed. Alecsis is too strong for that, but he will be powerless against one as magnificent as I. I shall destroy him slowly and mercilessly for daring to wear dragonhide upon his feet. She was so beautiful, my sweet love. To see her come to this, is... is unbearable.

### For the first time Leonado heard true emotion creep into Dragonfire's voice, but he was beyond caring for his teacher, if he'd ever felt anything for him at all. He wasn't game to tell him that the sword was gone, and wondered why Dragonfire hadn't asked to see it. What about the pirates? Shall I recruit a new crew?

### No, the Crystal Rose is stashed to overflowing with riches should you care to use them. It is time to set me free, and for that we need the other sword. He grew silent for a moment, perhaps thinking about his dead lover again. I particularly liked that spell you cast over the pirate captain's head. Despite your pain and weakness, you truly excelled yourself there.

Leonado regretted that too. So enraged that he should be felled by a simple soldier, he had taken his revenge the only way he knew, by making the King think Sir Alecsis had killed his brother instead of the pirate captain.

### I think we should take care of the real Prince Dorban before we retrieve the sword, Dragonfire said. And then you shall kill your father, destroy the last mage alive with the power to bring down mountains.

Leonado groaned out loud in helpless frustration. So many mages had fought the red dragons, and now Leonado was being forced not only to undo his forefather's good work, but to murder his own parent.

### Poetic justice, young Leonado. Your father helped imprison me, and you shall set me free.

### Never! Leonado cried in mental anguish. I'd rather die.

### You'll die when I have no more use for you, and not before. Dragonfire's mind bore down on him, flooding his mind with pain. He tried to resist, but the agony became too great, too intense. Once again he was subjected to Dragonfire's will.

Letting his frustration of being back under Darkfire's control again get the better of him, Leonado groped for a convenient rock, and aimed it across the now dead fire. It found its mark, hitting the snoring man on the nose.

Howling indignantly, he sat up with a start. "Fire and Damnation..." he growled, rubbing a dirty, large-knuckled hand across his injured anatomy. Undoubtedly his nose would end up even bigger and redder than it already was. The little man didn't possess one attractive feature. His face was mottled and fleshy, his gray hair receding, and his body stocky and barrel-chested. Stumpy arms and legs completed the picture of an overgrown dwarf. He even sprouted a curly gray beard that reached almost to the middle of his chest. He did have one redeeming feature however. He hated his appearance as much as Leonado did.

Despite the gloom, Leonado's companion found the culprit, and aimed to throw it back at the young sorcerer.

"Don't even think it, or I'll cast an itching spell over you," Leonado warned, raising his slender hands to start the incantation.

At the thought of having such an unpleasant spell cast over him, the fat man started scratching his groin. "Dammit Leo. Ye hardly need to. I'm sure this body is already cursed with some nasty disease," he muttered. "Why d'ye wake me for anyway? Tisn't even light."

"Ye were snoring."

"That be no reason to throw rocks. Ye never used to be so mean to me. There was a time when we were very close indeed."

Leonado ignored the lustful look cast at him across the extinguished campfire. The mere thought of kissing that hairy, foul-breathed mouth made him feel like discarding his last meal. "That was before you jumped into that ugly body. As Krystos you were a very attractive man, but as Moreshe, ye seem to have inherited his whiny countenance."

"Moreshe is dead. I killed him the moment I took over his mind," the ex-pirate retorted indignantly. Moreshe had been a soldier in King Rostan's army. Krystos's spirit had discovered this much before evicting him and claiming his body as his own. "You and I both know which body I really had my sights on."

Krystos still wondered how he had failed to invade the body of his choice after so rudely being ejected from his own. The more time he spent unanchored, the greater the risk of ending up as a spirit eternally at the whim of the Gods. Krystos had to admit that although he feared death, the prospect of floundering around without a host terrified him more. So he had taken the nearest victim after discovering Alecsis's determination to remain firmly anchored in his own.

### He simply couldn't figure it out. Surely Darkfire's hungry bite would have made the path easier for him. He knew he'd injured the knight. Darkfire had shuddered with glee, sending the pulse of pleasure back into Krystos's body. But he'd only been nicked. Perhaps Alecsis's tenacious grip on his own sword had protected him. Krystos could come up with no other explanation.

Alecsis had no idea who Krystos really was. Using his power on his most hated enemy would have been such sweet revenge. Krystos gnashed his teeth in anger and frustration. How dare he? he thought venomously. How dare he destroy the body I most treasured after my own! Krystos massaged his neck, recalling the horrible sensation of steel hacking through flesh.

Turning back to Leonado, he said, "As soon as I find a suitable candidate, I shall steal another body. Perhaps ye'd like to give me some indication of what would please ye this time."

Leonado didn't answer. He really didn't care anymore.

"Look, I be as angry as ye that we didn't succeed the first time," Krystos continued. "But we will try again. Why can ye find no pleasure in that?"

"Why don't ye tell me what went on between you and Sir Alecsis, why ye hate him so much," Leonado suggested eventually.

But Krystos kept his mouth shut. That was his secret, his and Alecsis's.

From her windowsill, Karina couldn't help noticing how many men had fallen by the wayside. Seeing Sir Alecsis still leading them filled her with a tide of relief. How she had fretted, keeping herself awake night after night, worrying about his safety.

Ever since seeking counsel with Lorenso, her fears had compounded. Although he couldn't foresee events, the palace magician could tune into the minds of the true believers, following their progress through his magic mirror. He had felt Sir Alecsis's fear, knew of his injury, and the death of almost half his army. He sensed trouble ahead, danger that would not cease despite the slaying of Captain Krystos.

Sir Alecsis's injuries hadn't gone unnoticed by Karina either. Her heart knotted painfully on seeing the laboured way he dismounted from Windrider. She knew that a great deal of their journey had been spent on foot, due to the impenetrable nature of the dense northern forests. How many days had he walked in pain? Far too many to bear, she was sure.

Oh, how she loved this brave, pale warrior from beyond the Noiva. She longed to call out to him, rush from her tower into his powerful arms, but of course she had to wait until her father summoned her. She hoped she wouldn't have to wait until the evening banquet, noting that none of the kitchen staff had entered the garden to collect vegetables and herbs. Karina couldn't help wondering why celebratory preparations weren't already under way.

She refused to wait any longer. Gathering her silk skirts about her, she hurried from her quarters. Nira sat by the opposite window of the outer chamber, darning the heel of her mistress's stocking. Her maid was a pretty, dark-skinned girl, her thick ebony hair secured beneath the starched white scarf worn by all female serving staff. She wore a plain pale blue dress, the white collar marked with the two linked gold hearts which donated her as personal staff.

Nira's liquid brown eyes smiled at Karina as she swept through the room. So in tune with her mistress's needs, she placed her darning aside. "Ye want me to accompany you, mistress?" she asked.

"Nay, Nira. You finish off here."

Nira bowed her head in acquiescence. She knew she would hear all about her mistress's reunion with her betrothed later. Karina knew serving wenches learnt the art of flirting at a young age, and Nira had had enough suitors to know how to entice a man. Karina still marveled at her own forwardness, but had she left it up to Sir Alecsis, he would still be watching her from the shadows.

Karina left the outer chamber, and headed down the winding staircase. The castle seemed unusually quiet as Karina hurried along the shadowed halls. At this time of day, in the late afternoon, before the torches were lit, it possessed an eerie quality.

Mageye trotted towards her. The old dog was going blind, but he could still see better than most hounds. Shades of gray mingled with the honey-brown of his coat, and he now spent most of his time beside the fire in the kitchen. He had stopped accompanying Sir Alecsis on his missions long ago. Why court danger when a warm bed and good food were readily available?

She stopped to scratch him behind one floppy ear. When she continued down the hall, he trotted after her. The most likely place to find her father at this time of the day was his privy chamber. King Rostan liked to conduct business during the twilight hours, preferring to spend the morning sleeping.

Karina drew to a halt outside the curved wooden door of the privy chamber. The sound of voices raised in argument greeted her ears through the thick paneling. Responding to the grating noise, the dog barked once, and headed down the corridor in the direction of the kitchen, no doubt missing his warm hearth. The princess remained standing in front of the door for a moment, trying to listen to the cause of the argument, but all she heard was the screech of her father's protests. Curiosity won, and she rapped her knuckles against the door.

"Come!" King Rostan answered at once.

Karina stepped into the chamber. The only furniture was a large oak desk and cluster of sturdy wooden chairs. A bookcase containing leather-bound volumes stood collecting dust between the two stained-glass windows. Karina often sat in on privy meetings, but was not permitted to contribute to the conversation. Even when the answer to a problem seemed blindingly obvious to her, she had to endure hours of arduous discussion that got the privy council nowhere.

Once a decision had been reached, it was presented at the official meetings for a formal vote. Neither of her brothers knew how to conduct a meeting, let alone implement a decision.

The king usually went along with whatever his chief advisers suggested. The three men Rostan relied on occupied their respective seats at the lower end of the table. Boran and Toran sat opposite one another, so Karina could only see her younger brother's face. He looked utterly bewildered, but it was her father's pacing about the room that surprised her. He never exerted himself unless it was absolutely necessary.

The only remaining chair had been placed behind the three councilors, and this was where Karina headed, but her father stepped in front of her.

"Karina. Just the person I want to see. I have some news for you." He looked absolutely livid, his round face as red as a ripe tomato, cheeks puffing out like a pair of Blacksmith's bellows.

"But we have not voted yet, your Highness," Legion interrupted from his spot between the other two councilors. The chief adviser was a tall, imposing man, exuding more power than the king ever did. He had frightened Karina as a child, but as she grew older, she had come to respect Legion.

"We've debated this for two hours, and I say he goes to the block on the morrow. There will be no trial. In killing my brother he hath forfeited his right to a trial."

"Ye know there are proper channels to follow," Legion continued calmly.

"I am the king, am I not?" Rostan's attempt at sarcasm didn't affect the sallow-faced councilor. "And being the king means I am the ruler. I am the final decision maker, and if I decide to have a traitor beheaded, his head will roll."

Karina couldn't bear to wait until she was addressed again to ask her question. She stepped in front of her father, compelling him to halt his pacing.

"What happened, father?" she asked. Who had killed Prince Dorban, and why would Rostan not follow the proper procedures? Were their years of peace with their neighbouring province finally over? Something nagging in the back of her mind told her that Sir Alecsis had become embroiled in it. Why else did her father want to speak to her?

"What happened, my dear daughter, is that your dearly beloved, my so-called first night, has betrayed us in the worst possible way. Instead of killing the Pirate Krystos, he murdered my own brother..."

A sudden wave of dizziness hit Karina. The room spun, and she felt the floor tilt. Somehow she remained on her feet. Karina had never fainted in her life. Reason swept aside her shock and disbelief. It was a cruel mistake. Alecsis couldn't have killed Prince Dorban. It had to be Captain Krystos. But why couldn't her father see it? She started to tell him as much, but Boran interrupted. Karina had momentarily forgotten about her brother, and his sudden outburst made her gasp. Jumping from his seat, he faced his sister, his face a mask of pure hatred.

"He brought Dorban's head back himself. He presented it to our father with pride in his evil, twisted heart," the young prince cried.

"Surely he must have realized it would cost him his life," Toran added.

"I'm sure he thinks he hath an immortal soul," Boran sneered. "I told you not to trust him, father. Now do ye believe me?"

The king's shoulders slumped, and he wiped a hand over his brow.

"Would you like to see the proof for yourself, little sister?" Boran hissed, walking towards the doorway behind the table that led to a large storage area and armoury. "'Tis not a pleasant sight."

"Have you no honour?" Legion jumped to his feet, and stopped the young prince in his tracks. "Ye'll show her nothing."

"If it had been Krystos's head, the entire town would have seen it on the morrow," Boran spat. "Why should Karina not see her beloved barbarian's handiwork?"

### "He is not a barbarian!" Karina screamed. "And he didn't kill Uncle Dorban. The pirate did. Are you all too blind to see that sorcery is at play here? Have any of you called Lorenso to examine the head? He will know if a spell was cast over it."

She caught Legion's gaze, and he nodded silently. "Another reason why we should call a trial," the counselor said. "An innocent man could be going to his death - "

### "He's not innocent!" Rostan yelled. "Such powerful magic can no longer be wielded, and we both know Alecsis was never trained as a mage." He waved his hands towards the door. "Everybody out! My decision is final. At dawn, the man we've known as Sir Alecsis dies. Now leave me." He started propelling people towards the door, and Karina, pressed between Boran and Legion, had no choice but to leave with them.

He can't die, she vowed, her heart tying itself into painful knots. There must be something I can do. Gathering her skirts together, she hurried down the hall, seeking out the only person she knew with the power to save Alecsis; Lorenso, the spell-binder

The rooms directly above the dungeon possessed no windows, and were as dark and damp as the endless catacombs beneath the castle. Lorenso kept his chambers lit by fat torches set at regular intervals along the walls. His work was often fine and fiddly, requiring intense concentration and a good eye. For this he needed plenty of light. He could have secured better accommodation within the castle walls, but he craved silence and privacy. Few people dared venture down the dark, narrow stairs that led to his domain.

Karina hurried down the winding staircase, as always keeping close to the wall. She knew if she continued further, she would find her beloved. How she longed to keep going past Lorenso's laboratory, and force the dungeon master to free him. But Karina had met Noron, and knew him to be a vile creature indeed. Not only did he look evil, with his fat, scarred body, but he exuded an aura of malevolence. She feared for Alecsis in that dreadful man's care. Noron had no qualms about torturing the dungeon's inhabitants. Alecsis, in his already weakened state, would suffer greatly from the dungeon master's cruel punishments.

"Oh Alecsis," she sighed. "Why did ye go? Lorenso and I knew it would end badly." She let the wave of dejection wash over her, then squared her shoulders. She couldn't permit misery to take hold of her now. Alecsis depended on her. Who else had the determination to set him free? No one but she seemed to care about him. They only wanted to see him suffer, to make him pay for a crime his good and pure heart would never have allowed him to commit.

She reached for the large iron knocker attached to Lorenso's heavy oak door, and thumped it once against the wood. After a moment's silence, she banged it again, harder and louder this time.

Still no answer.

Please be here, she prayed. I don't want to have to search the palace grounds for you. I need your help like I've never needed it before.

Finally the latch clicked, and the door swung inwards with an eerie groan. Lorenso never opened it in person, allowing his mind to do it for him. This meant Karina often had to seek him out through the maze of benches covered in bubbling, hissing and clicking contraptions.

Wooden shelves lined the walls, some containing volumes, others jars full of strange looking objects. The words to his spells fascinated her. She could sit and listen to him quote the magic poetry all day. Coupled with flowing hand-motions to enhance the flow of mana, it didn't surprise her that a magician's apprentice needed half a lifetime to learn the art of spell-binding.

Today the laboratory was silent. Nothing bubbled and boiled. No noxious smells snuck up on her as she headed past the long tables. Lorenso didn't appear to be in residence, either.

Tentatively she called his name.

"Over here, my dear," came the muffled response. She followed the sound through the outer chamber, her eyes adjusting to the brightness of the numerous burning torches. She stepped carefully. Sometimes buckets sat on the floor, waiting to spill their bizarre contents over her slippers.

She found Lorenso seated on one of the numerous embroidered cushions in his meditation chamber. This room was no larger than a storage area, only lit by a few candles on the floor. At its centre stood an oval mirror tilted towards the magician. Giilt edged, with its base set in solid gold, it looked fit for a queen. But it was no ordinary looking glass. After reciting the appropriate incantation, Lorenso could witness events taking place many leagues away.

The magician didn't gaze into the glass now. Nothing shimmered behind its surface. The only thing it reflected was the elderly wizard's dejected expression. With his hunched shoulders and sad eyes, Karina knew instantly that he was troubled by the same dilemma that bothered her. As usual his long hair hung in a braid down his back, almost the same shade of gray as his cloak. He patted the cushion beside his. "Join me, child."

Karina did as he bade, and rearranged her long skirts about her.

"So tragic that it should come to this," the old wizard muttered without looking up. "Yer father is a foolish man, a very foolish man."

"You know what he's done then?"

"I be certain everyone knows what he hath done by now. Sir Alecsis is by far the best warrior this country has ever seen. How could Rostan treat him so abysmally?"

"So you believe it wasn't Uncle Dorban's head they brought back?"

"I know it wasn't Dorban's head. He lives. I saw him safe and sound within the walls of his keep." He motioned towards the mirror with one slender, age spotted hand. Through the glass, he had watched Alecsis and his army's progress through the jungle, and the young knight's fight with Krystos.

"Then we must save Alecsis from the executioner's axe. We cannot let an innocent man die!" Karina glanced from the wizard's profile to the mirror, seeing the dark circles around his sunken brown eyes. He looked more worried than she had ever seen him. She knew if Lorenso was this concerned, then the situation was desperate indeed.

"I know. I know. I have pondered deeply on it, and know I must wield some powerful magic. But I am so tired... If only my son had not left me..."

"Perhaps he'll return some day," Karina reassured.

"If he does it won't be as my son..." He finally looked up, meeting Karina's concerned gaze. His eyes were shadowed and full of regret. She thought she saw tears threatening to escape, but then he wiped a hand across his brow, returning his dark eyes to their usual intensity. "He hath turned to the other side. I felt it during Alecsis and Krystos's battle... I felt him there."

Karina's eyes widened in shock. She clearly remembered the day Lorenso's son disappeared. He had just turned sixteen, and after stealing some of his father's most treasured volumes, he'd fled in the middle of the night on one of the King's finest stallions. Luckily Lorenso had committed most of the incantations to memory, but for weeks he had been in the darkest of moods.

The flight of the magician's son had saddened the young princess. He had been her only playmate, as neither of her brothers had wanted a curious little girl tagging along. But Leonado had been quite content to let her join him in his jaunts around the palace grounds, where he often played pranks on the serving staff. Some had verged on the dangerous, but Leonado had only seen the funny side of people falling into dung piles and getting locked in the cellar. Maturity and level-headedness was required to wield spells effectively, and Leonado possessed neither. Karina's brothers had called him a brat, and at times she'd been inclined to believe them, but to fall to the dark side...

"A- are you sure Leonado was there?" she asked eventually.

Lorenso nodded solemnly. "I detected the presence of a powerful sorcerer, remember? Of course he dared not show himself through the glass, but I sensed 'twas him, Leonado, my traitorous son..." Taking a deep breath, he squared his shoulders and continued.

"Whether the pirate captain corrupted him, or the propensity for darkness was already there, I know not," he continued. "But Leonado cast the spell over the severed head. He is responsible for Alecsis languishing below."

"But were not all the pirates killed, including the mage that aided and abetted them?"

Lorenso slowly shook his wise head. "I spoke with young Antano not long ago, and he told me that he shot a poisoned arrow into Leonado's body. He even spoke of him by name, but then I remembered that I never felt his mind-power falter. He is still out there, maimed perhaps, but I fear working with the pirates was only the beginning."

It took a moment for Karina to digest the news of her long lost playmate turning into an evil sorcerer. How had it happened? What could he possibly hope to gain by it? This formed her next question. "If he wanted to learn the arts, why did he not stay here and study with you? A palace magician at least holds a position of power."

"I have oft' wondered that myself," Lorenso sighed. "The only conclusion I can come up with is that my way would have taken him too long. He is barely nineteen. He would still be in training were he here with me. No doubt impatient for knowledge, he sought the easier path, through evil means. Magicians are no longer respected. Most people are wary of us. Some even fear us. Leonado, it seems, wants to fuel that fear."

"But does that not go completely against Makim's teachings? Magic is meant to be used to heal, to protect, not as a tool of power."

"Try telling Serpon that. He has no scruples, and neither, it seems, doth my son." The mage sighed again, then with determination, clenched a fist. "I must find him, must save his soul ere 'tis too late..." He unclenched his hand, letting it drop to his side. "And for this I need Alecsis. He now knows the quickest route north. We must first travel to Prince Dorban's court and get the proof your father needs \- "

"Can you not reverse the spell on the head? Would this not be easier?" Karina interrupted, something she didn't often do in Lorenso's presence.

"Nay, I know not the nature of the spell. I have very little knowledge of evil incantations..."

"So you will rescue Sir Alecsis?"

"Aye. As soon as night sets in. Then we must be on our way. Antano will be the only one to accompany us. No one else must know. Is that clear?"

"Yes," Karina affirmed, realizing suddenly that their escape was not meant to include her. "I want to come too. I won't let Alecsis leave me again."

The magician met her wide, determined eyes. She could see he didn't want to do this. "Nay, you cannot. Your presence will only distract him - "

"T'would distract him more leaving me behind. He only embarked on this mission so he could be with me. He would not want to be parted from me again."

Lorenso turned and placed both his hands on her shoulders, forcing her to meet his grave gaze. "T'is too dangerous for you, my dear."

"If Sir Alecsis dies, then I want to die too. I can ride as well as any man. I know how to use a knife to defend myself. I have knowledge of herbs and spices which would be useful in the forest. I be no weakling!"

"Nay Karina. My word is final. If all goes well, you will see Sir Alecsis again. His heart will be with you. Knowing you await his return will spur him on as it did before."

### Colour stained Karina's cheeks, and she stamped her foot in temper. "Not this time, Lorenso!"

He clasped her hands in his, their age-roughened hardness reminding her of how gentle and soothing Alecsis's were in comparison. Recalling his touch increased her resolve. "I'm coming with you. Ye'll not leave me behind."

He sighed. "I'll slow them down enough as it is, even with my magical abilities... My word is final, Karina. Ye must stay here where 'tis safe."

She opened her mouth to protest once more, but quickly closed it again. Lorenso would never weaken. Once he had made up his mind about something, there was no changing it. She had to think of some other way of getting around him.
TEN

IN DUNGEONS DIRE

Alecsis wished he could sleep and banish reality even for a little while.

Reality was a damp, filthy cage, not large enough to stand or even lie down. All he could do was crouch on the hard stone floor with his back against the bars. Designed for maximum discomfort, Alecsis found it even more so due to his extra height and festering war-wound.

Reality was the prospect of death in the morning, something he had considerable difficulty keeping from his mind. He didn't want to spend his final hours in this miserable place, his ears bombarded by the drunken gambling of his gaolers. They hadn't bothered Alecsis for some time. They hadn't given him anything to eat or drink either, and his throat felt as parched as a sun-drenched desert.

A burst of raucous laughter from the adjoining chamber made him flinch, once again drawing his attention to the wound that refused to heal. Alecsis was certain infection had set in. A seeping dampness that reeked of illness had permeated his clothes. He felt grimy, miserable, and decidedly unwell. If he didn't get some of Lorenso's extra strong healing magic soon, he might as well accept his impending death.

In an attempt to banish his maudlin thoughts, he peered into the darkness at the flickering candles lighting the Dungeon Master's card table, where he and his cronies made bets and guzzled ale. If only Alecsis had a notion of the time. It had been mid afternoon when he was stripped of his weapon and magic items, and dragged down the endless flights of stairs to be unceremoniously shoved into this iron cage. Down here one would never know what transpired in the world above.

Alecsis sighed, and made a vain attempt to get into a more comfortable position. There wasn't one. The floor hurt his rear and the bars dug into his back.

He almost wished Krystos had killed him. Dying in combat was the hero's way to die. Having the entire town witness his beheading would be humiliating and frightening. Alecsis couldn't deny his fear. He didn't want to die like this, not without finding out what had really happened to the evil pirate's head.

His mind drifted to Karina. She hadn't left his thoughts since his arrival in the dungeon. But thinking of her hurt more than his wound, more than the fear of death. If only they would let him see her one last time, allow him kiss her tender lips, and beg her not to grieve for him. She would suffer terribly once he was gone... Unless King Rostan had succeeded in poisoning her against him as well. Perhaps, like her brothers, she now anticipated his beheading, fully believing him to have murdered her uncle.

Alecsis would never feel Karina's naked skin against his, never experience the pleasure of their joining. There would be no wedding night now, no reward for his bravery.

Could the entire mission have been a farce to entrap him? As he had never met Prince Dorbon, how was he to know King Rostan spoke the truth? Alecsis supposed he would never know who had betrayed him. It could have been any number of people. Boran. Toran. The king himself.

Suddenly an eerie silence fell over the dungeon. The raucous laughter stopped so abruptly, Alecsis's breath caught in his throat. What are they up to now? he wondered, fearing their promised torture routine. Nothing moved, not even the rats he had felt scurrying around him earlier.

Alecsis strained to see into the darkness, searching for his gaolers' presence. Then he saw the shadowy outline of someone looming directly in front of his cage. The young ex-knight held his breath, bracing himself for a painful onslaught. In his already weakened state, they would have no trouble making him suffer.

"Alecsis," the figure whispered. "I have come to set you free."

"Lorenso!" he gasped, hope filling his heart. Someone still cared for him after all.

"Yes, 'tis I. We must move quickly."

Alecsis realized the silence was due to some spell Lorenso had cast over the dungeon master and his cronies. Yet he couldn't help asking about them. "The men?"

"Under a spell that renders them immobile," Lorenso chortled. "Rather amusing to watch, but it won't last long." He raised his hands and started an incantation. He chanted the words so quickly, most were lost to Alecsis.

They had the desired effect. The moment he spoke the release word the mana flowed from him, resulting in a loud clunk, and Lorenso slid across the latch on Alecsis's cage door. As it swung outwards, the young man breathed a deep sigh of relief.

However, the moment he moved towards freedom, he realized how painful his escape would be. Gritting his teeth, he crawled from the enclosed space. Grasping hold of the bars, he scrambled to his feet.

As he stood, he saw another figure in the gloom behind the magician. It stepped forward and flung slender arms around Alecsis. Despite the throbbing pain, he returned the youth's enthusiastic hug. As he released him, Antano snorted in disgust. " Phew! You stink."

"Ye would too, had you spent the night in the company of rats, and a floor covered in centuries of filth. How late be it?" Alecsis asked in a whisper.

Antano laughed. "Not much past midnight. Sorry I insulted you, Sir. We'll probably all smell like sewer rats after our swim through the moat."

"Come, we must away," Lorenso urged from further down the corridor, and the younger men were quick to follow. They passed several doorways Alecsis knew contained rooms full of vile torture apparatus. Like most people, he had heard the rumours, but until tonight never believed such devices actually existed. Now he knew better. Noron's loving description of what he planned to do to Alecsis had given him enough information to hurry past those darkened doorways.

The air smelled no better once they entered the dungeon master's arena. Now mingled with alcohol, it made Alecsis gag. His stomach spasmed, and he almost passed out from the excruciating agony of his wound. Gulping the bile down, he managed to force the pain to a bearable level. Now wasn't the time to succumb to the weakness of his body.

Lorenso had been right about the immobilization spell. Noron and his cronies did look rather amusing frozen in the positions they had last assumed. Noron sat with a tankard of ale poised at his lips, the flickering candlelight drawing out the ugliness of his pock-marked face. His expression was one of pure longing. He couldn't wait to get the brew into him.

Antano prodded Alecsis's forearm. "Watch this." Stepping up to the immobile dungeon master, he removed the mug from his grasp. The big man's fingers uncoiled and reformed as though they were made of rubber, now holding nothing but air. Antano picked up the fat candle from the holder standing on the corner of the card table. He placed this in Noron's hand instead, its flame far enough from his bulbous nose not to singe, but close enough to burn him when he tried to swig his non-existent ale.

Alecsis glanced at Lorenso. He merely shrugged, a slight smile playing about his lips. "He's not getting anything he doesn't deserve."

Antano then proceeded to rearrange one of the cronies playing cards, taking several aces from the dungeon master's hand lying face down on the table.

"I almost wish we could stay to witness the result of Tano's mischief," Lorenso remarked with a chuckle. "But we have a lot of ground to cover." He started across the floor, his long black cloak billowing behind him. As Alecsis followed, he noticed Antano had donned a similar one.

In single file the three men headed up the stairs. Trained in deadly silence, Alecsis and Antano placed one booted foot in front of the other with careful precision. Lorenso aided his own escape with magic, gliding inches above the floor.

The magician stopped outside his chambers. "Time to collect some essentials," he said, stepping inside. Alecsis and Antano followed. "Latch the door behind you. We shan't be leaving that way."

Antano obliged, flashing Alecsis a reassuring smile. "If you don't mind me saying, you look rather unwell, Sir."

Alecsis grimaced. "I feel rather unwell, but we won't speak of it now. And another thing. You might as well dispense with the title for now. Until I can win back my knighthood, I'm just Alecsis."

The youth looked uncertain. "You know I will always respect and honour you."

"I know. But from now on call me by name."

"Aye, Alecsis," Antano grinned.

"What's keeping you two? Hurry. Hurry!" Lorenso urged, and the two men walked the length of the magician's work benches. They found him standing in front of an open doorway leading to a small antechamber.

'Put this on," he urged Alecsis, handing him a cape the same as the ones he and Antano wore. "And cover your head. Yer hair has a habit of shining in the moonlight."

Alecsis did as he was told, watching Lorenso withdraw three backpacks, passing two of them to Alecsis and Antano. They slung them over their shoulders. Then he extended a sword still in its scabbard.

"Is that what I think it is?" Alecsis gasped, recognizing the gleaming gold hilt studded with precious stones.

### "The Holy Avenger. Aye."

"I was certain the king would have placed it under lock and key the moment he took it from me!"

"Nay, I persuaded him to entrust it into my care. Clever of me, don't ye think?"

Alecsis managed a weak smile.

"That's the spirit," Lorenso grinned back. "Tis good to see you smile. And now I entrust it into your care." He handed the sword to Alecsis, but he knew he couldn't secure it around his waist.

"Ye'd better carry it for now... I... I hope one of these packs contains a healing potion, for I am sure to need it," he explained.

"You had your healing herbs. I administered them myself," Antano said. "Why be ye still in pain?"

### Alecsis grimaced. "I do not know why the wound won't heal. Perhaps it has something to do with Darkfire's evil. Mayhap 'tis eating into me."

Antano gasped, a slender hand flying to his mouth.

Lorenso turned away, marched over to one of his numerous benches, and rummaged through the rubble of objects.

"This might do the trick." He held up a small satchel. "When we will get the time to administer it I have no idea. I'm glad ye told me, Alecsis. I know of no other herbs that can counteract wounds inflicted by evilly enchanted weapons. How long have ye been suffering like this?"

"It has only grown unbearable these past few hours," Alecsis said.

"Then we must make haste. Evil wounds have a way of spreading their darkness to the very core of the soul. We don't want ye to die and go to Serpon upon your demise."

Antano shuddered, and Alecsis felt like doing the same, but refrained, and handed the sword to the youth. "If we chance upon foes along the way, ye'll have two swords to defend us."

### Antano secured The Holy Avenger around his slender waist. "Thank Fortis I'm not also in armour. The weight would surely send me toppling to the ground."

Lorenso withdrew another item from his storage chamber. "Ye'll have to wear this, however." He handed Alecsis his enchanted belt. Alecsis knew this wouldn't interfere with his wound, for he had worn it all the way back to Scarthe. Glad to have it back in his possession, he secured it around his waist.

"Now we are ready," Lorenso announced, closing the chamber door. "This way."

"Where are we going, anyway? Do you have a plan, Lorenso?" Alecsis asked.

"To Braythe, of course, where we shall convince Prince Dorban to pay his brother a visit," Lorenso answered.

"Sounds like a worthy venture to me," Alecsis turned to follow him further into his domain. As he glanced around the chamber, he thought he detected a flicker of movement in the furthermost corner of the main room. He saw the curtain leading to Lorenso's sleeping quarters whisper back into place. Was someone hiding there? Or had it been as a result of their own hurried movements? He wanted to investigate, but heard Lorenso urgently calling his name.

They left the magician's chamber via a secret passage behind a set of shelves. It required all three to push the piece of furniture out of the way. Unfortunately they had no means of returning it once they entered the dark corridor beyond, but as few dared venture into the old wizard's domain, it could be days before anyone realized this was how they had escaped. Lorenso withdrew several nightstones from his backpack, handing one to each of the younger men.

With the glowing rocks to light their way, Alecsis saw that this passage had not been used in a long time, Lorenso probably the only one who knew of its existence. Water had seeped through the roughly hewn walls. The stench of damp disuse filled the air, making breathing difficult.

The tunnel veered first to the left, then to the right, gently inclining upwards. At this rate, it would take them some time to reach ground level. By the amount of twists and turns, it felt as though the tunnel passed almost every chamber within the castle. At various points Alecsis saw human height panels of wood.

"Secret doorways," Lorenso explained, as though sensing Alecsis's silent question. "There is probably one leading to your very own chamber."

"I wish I had known about this sooner," Alecsis remarked.

"I'm glad you hadn't. Finding the one leading to Princess Karina's rooms would have been your aim no doubt," the magician retorted.

Alecsis didn't bother to answer this, probably because he knew the old spellbinder was right. No doubt she was there now, safe and sound in her bed. Are you thinking of me, my love? he asked silently. Fear not, the truth will come out, one way or the other, and then we'll be together. Thinking of her spurred him on, the pain of his wound relegated to the background.

The end of the tunnel had been blocked by several large slabs of stone, but only one had to be moved aside to clamber out into the night. Freedom smelt so good Alecsis stopped to stare up at the moonlit sky, taking great gulps of fresh air. He surveyed his surroundings.

They had come out at the southern end of the castle's base. The outer wall was less than fifteen feet away, a narrow staircase to freedom clearly visible in the moonlight. There was enough natural light for them not to need their glowing stones.

Antano and Lorenso replaced the slab of stone, while Alecsis ensured that nobody had witnessed their escape. Nothing stirred, not even the creatures of the night. No guards patrolled this section of wall. The three men darted across the grass, clambering in quick succession up the wooden staircase to the top of the wall.

Alecsis was the last to reach the rampart, his breathing laboured, and his chest heaving in pain. The other two sat between the embrasures, silhouetted against the midnight sky, cowls hiding their faces.

"This is the part I have been dreading," Antano muttered, as Alecsis swung his legs over the edge of the wall. He followed his friend's gaze, staring down into the murky blackness of the moat directly below them. "Ugh. What everyone ate for breakfast is swimming around down there."

"Never fear. Ye won't have to jump into the moat," Lorenso reassured him. "Take hold of my hand."

Tentatively Antano reached for it, and Lorenso glanced past him at Alecsis. "You have your magic belt back. Meet me down there by that clump of trees." He pointed a bony finger into the darkness, and Alecsis made out the shapes of trees on the slope across the moat.

He watched Lorenso jump off the wall, pulling the young man with him. Antano had witnessed Alecsis use the power of flight, but had never flown himself, and his shriek echoed through the night. Alecsis hoped no one else had heard him, thinking the young man ought to know better.

Placing his forefinger against the sapphire, he concentrated on the sensation of flight. Then he launched from the wall. At first he fell, the precious stone seeming to have failed in its duty, but then he felt the drag of air. Orientating himself, he turned in the direction the other two had taken. He saw them ahead, slowly descending to their destination. Being airborne and as light as a feather made Alecsis feel almost normal again. For a few precious moments he experienced no pain, no weakness, simply the exhilaration of flying through the night sky.

But all too soon his destination appeared ahead of him, and he returned his hand to his belt. Tucking his feet under him, he prepared to land. The sudden jarring of ground under his dragon-hide boots brought an intense jab of agony rocketing through his body. He collapsed onto the ground, moaning in pain.

"Alecsis!" Antano gasped in horror, rushing to his side.

"Just give me a moment," Alecsis groaned through tightly clenched teeth. "Didn't land too well."

"I don't know how ye dare to fly at all. I'm still shaking in my boots," the youth admitted, placing a soothing hand against Alecsis's hunched shoulders. His gentle touch made him glance up. "Where's Lorenso?"

Antano looked around, realizing for the first time that the magician had left them. He frowned. "I don't know. He was here a moment ago."

"I'm sure he'll be back soon," Alecsis said, glad of a reprieve. He sat on the dew-covered grass, a hand pressed to his aching wound. He could feel the dampness still flowing from it, but knew it wasn't blood. On leaving the dungeon he had checked, and no dark patch of red stained his rumpled tunic. Pus, he reasoned in disgust, dirty, infected pus.

The sound of hooves and jangling bits alerted the two men to someone's approach, and they both scrambled to their feet, ready to flee. But it was only Lorenso leading three bay mares through the trees.

"I daren't ask how you managed that," Alecsis said, limping up to stroke the nose of the nearest horse.

"A mere suggestion over the stable-hands' minds to ensure they remained asleep while I whisked these fine mares away. I would have saddled Windrider for you if he wasn't so conspicuous in the dark," Lorenso answered with a smile.

"I understand. But I'll miss him. And your brother's traitorous dog."

Antano sniggered. "Poor Alecsis. Rejected in favour of a warm hearth and the cook's good food. Can't say I blame Mageye."

"Lets get moving. We need to place as much distance as we can between us and Scarthe before daybreak." The magician placed a foot in the stirrup of the horse he had adopted. However, it required the aid of magic for him to land safely on the beast's back. "I haven't ridden for a while," he admitted, patting the skittish animal to calm it.

Alecsis didn't find it easy to mount his horse either, his injury making him gasp in pain once he landed in the saddle. Ignoring it, he took the rains, and started off through the trees. Antano followed.

Nobody looked back, too glad to have made it this far. Once they reached the road, they set off in a gallop, the hard jarring of the ground jabbing through Alex like knives. He gritted his teeth and clasped the rains, his knuckles gleaming white. Must keep going. Must not let the party down. They rescued me. The least I can do is get as far away from Scarthe as possible.

But each league made him weaker and more disorientated. The dark landscape began to shimmer around him, the road a blur of hooves. Lorenso had been right. Dragonfire's evil was eating into him, killing him, chewing into his soul.

He tried to call out to the others, but all that emerged was a low moan of pain. Unable to stay upright any longer, he doubled over, clasping the horse's neck. His action made the mare stop abruptly, and Alecsis slid from her back, his mind answering death's call.

###

### ELEVEN

POISON IN HIS VEINS

Lorenso heard the steady drumming of hooves change tempo, instantly sensing that something had happened to one of his companions. Reining in his mount, he slowed to see Antano come to a galloping halt beside him.

"Where be Alecsis?" the old magician demanded, peering into the gloom around them.

Antano shook his head. "He was right behind me a moment ago."

Swinging his mount around, Lorenso cantered back the way they had come. Soon he caught a glimpse of the riderless horse gnawing some grass by the side of the road. Easing his own mount to a walk, he reached out to the other animal, taking hold of her reins. The mare followed obediently.

The black shape of a man lying in the middle of the road wasn't hard to miss. The cowl had slipped from his head, and the moonlight slanting through the trees shone directly on his pale face, turning his long flowing hair into a shimmering gold mantle.

"Dear Heaven!" Antano gasped, jumping from his horse.

Lorenso also dismounted, and hurried to Alecsis's side. He placed a trembling hand to the side of his neck, searching for a sign of life. He eventually found it, a pulse so faint that Alecsis would surely die if he didn't administer those healing potions immediately.

Turning to the young man at his side, he said, "Help me drag him into the bushes. We have to find some flat ground where we will not be seen from the road."

Stepping around Alecsis, he took hold of one of his limp hands. Antano took the other, and they dragged him into the forest. Trying to shift a man almost twice their weight over rocks and bracken was not easy. Soon they were panting from exertion. By the time they had dragged Alecsis to a spot open and flat enough, both men were lathered in a fine film of perspiration.

"Fetch my healing satchel, and the nightstones. Then see to the horses," Lorenso commanded, crouching beside the supine man. He looked like death had already claimed him.

Antano scurried off, returning with the items Lorenso requested. He placed a glowing stone on either side of Alecsis. Now able to see what he was doing, he parted the cloak, then began tugging at Alecsis's clothes, hoisting up his stained blue tunic.

When he saw the extent of the damage, he gasped in horror. Instead of healing, the wound had opened further, and a noxious yellow fluid that reeked of sickness seeped from it. Lorenso marveled that he had made it this far.

Hurriedly he set to work, rubbing a drawing ointment around the red raw wound, knowing it would get worse before it got better. I hope you have the strength to survive what I have to do, he thought.

He started chanting a spell that brought Antano rushing to his side. The youth immediately began worrying an already ravaged fingernail. He listened with rapt attention as Lorenso spoke of drawing the poison from Alecsis's veins, pulling the evil from his body like unraveling a thread from a garment. The mage's hands mimicked the action, graceful despite their spotted, gnarled appearance.

Antano watched in horror as the wound buckled and gaped like a second mouth. A horrible black substance that smelled of rotting meat seeped from it. As the goo started to flow from him, Alecsis began to moan and thrash.

"Grab his hands," Lorenso ordered, sitting on his twitching legs to hold him down.

Antano moved around to Alecsis's head and clasped his twitching hands. "What is that horrible stuff?" he asked, his face ashen.

"Poison." Lorenso repeated the chant, drawing a stream of thick black tar from the wound. Alecsis started to tremble violently, and his moans turned into shrieks of agony.

"Oh Sweet Lorin!" Antano gasped, and started to pray, his fear making his teeth chatter. Alecsis had become his dearest friend. Few possessed his strength and courage, and Antano longed to be more like him. "Ye can't die now, Alecsis," he murmured. "I need you, and Karina loves you. Don't let her down."

Alecsis's answer was to scream so loudly his pain shuddered right through the young soldier. His grip became like steel traps crushing Antano's slender fingers, but he hardly noticed it. He couldn't tear his eyes from the evil bile, now pouring like treacle from the wound. It looked like an oily black serpent snaking its way across his washboard stomach. But it didn't pool around him in a thick gooey puddle. It vanished as soon as it hit the cape underneath him.

It seemed to flow forever, and Alecsis howled, his back arching like a bow. His head lifted off the ground, and his eyes glared blindly at the sky, two luminous green pools of torment.

"Will it never end?" the terrified youth muttered, as Alecsis shuddered and thrashed like a man the grip of a violent fit.

"'Tis easing," Lorenso said, and Antano noticed he was right. "But this doesn't mean we are out of the woods yet."

The black bile slowly lessened, becoming nothing more than a few droplets trickling down Alecsis's pale skin. He collapsed back against the grass, his head lolling to one side. Lorenso chanted the words of expulsion once more, his fingers pulling at an invisible thread. The wound puckered again, and a final rush of poison surged forward, making Alecsis clench Antano's hands with such sudden ferocity, it was his turn to cry out in pain. Then he became still.

"Is he dead?" Antano asked fearfully.

Lorenso dreading the same thing, felt his pulse beating faintly at the base of his throat. "Nay, but the ordeal has stressed him greatly. What he needs after I close the wound, is rest, something I doubt we have time for... " He rubbed his chin thoughtfully with one hand, reaching into his satchel with the other. "I wonder if I dare risk casting an invisibility spell over us." He shook his head. "I do so hate mixing my incantations."

"Why not wait until we hear something?" Antano suggested. "They probably won't send anyone after us until morning. That's still several hours away. Even that much would benefit Alecsis."

"Ye're right. Alecsis really saw your worth when he took you under his wing."

Antano couldn't help basking in the compliment, knowing the old magician didn't dole them out lightly. Releasing Alecsis's now limp hands, he watched as Lorenso applied a different substance to the wound. It looked very similar to that which he had used on it the day Alecsis had sustained the injury, but this ointment had the desired effect. The vicious cut slowly shrunk and closed, leaving nothing but a thin reddish line that would disappear altogether in a few days.

After casting the appropriate healing spell, Lorenso eased down Alecsis's tunic and covered him with the edges of the cloak. "I think we both should get some rest."

"Shouldn't one of us keep watch," Antano suggested.

"I'll cast a watchman spell over me. It will alert us to approaching danger." Finding a spot a few feet away from the slumbering Alecsis, he tucked his pack under his head, and wrapped his cloak around his weary body. But he couldn't sleep. Even after casting the watchman spell he lay awake, listening to the other men's slow even breathing, mulling over recent events in his mind.

The immediate past stretched further back in time, and he found himself thinking of his long dead wife. Never believing he would ever meet a woman to love, Lorenso had been almost fifty when he married Sumara, a woman many years his junior. Their marriage had lasted less than twelve months.

Sumara had died giving birth to the brat, Leonado. If the youth hadn't looked so much like himself, he would have questioned his parentage. Lorenso wondered how he could have spawned something so nasty and spiteful. He certainly never treated the boy badly. He'd tried to be a good father.

And how had the child repaid him? By taking off with his most treasured volumes, those filled with spells no magician should be without. If he didn't find a successor soon, Scarthe would lose the power to heal and protect against evil. All the great mages were dead. Lorenso was the last of his line.

Oh Alecsis, you should have been the one to take my place. You possess the power to be a great spell-binder, but you intend to marry and leave Scarthe with your princess. Is that what you really want? To live the rest of your life as the master of a distant province, sorting out petty squabbles between farmers? You have so much more to offer. So much more.

The chamber was lit by a solitary candle on the window-ledge. Karina stood in front of her guilded mirror, surveying her handiwork in the half-light. She had wound a silken sash around her chest to flatten her breasts, and put on a faded page boy's tunic and breeches she had stolen from a clothesline in the servants quarters. Her soft leather boots came courtesy of Toran's chamber. They were a little too large, but she had knotted the laces several times around her ankles. Unfortunately, she still looked like a woman trying to impersonate a boy.

"I need a cape with a cowl," she asserted, but the only ones she owned were ceremonial robes. Where on earth had Lorenso acquired the ones he gave Alecsis and Antano? She wondered whether she should return to the magician's chambers and search for one. But Karina didn't want to risk wandering through the palace again. Neither did she want to take the same route they used to aid their escape.

Hiding behind the curtain to Lorenso's sleeping quarters, she'd overheard their destination, and only needed to follow the road to Braythe. No doubt they would take the back route. Karina hoped she could find the unmarked tracks in the darkness.

A soft rustling sound made her swing round, her heart knocking loudly against her chest. Her maid, Nira, stood in the doorway between the inner and outer chambers. Clad in her white nightdress, she looked like a ghost come to haunt her, but Karina's heartbeat subsided to a bearable level. Nira could be trusted to keep her mouth shut.

"I should have known ye'd come up with some harebrained scheme to save yer stone-faced warrior," Nira admonished, stepping into the room. Few maids would dare speak to their mistresses with such boldness, but Karina and Nira had engaged in this playful banter for years.

"It isn't harebrained. If ye want the truth, he's already escaped, and all I'm doing is following him."

Nira placed her hands on her hips, her teasing tone gone. "On no yer not. Princesses don't go chasing a condemned man into the night. What ye should really be doing is reporting the escape to yer father."

Karina stared at her in dismay. "You can't be serious!"

"He hath committed murder, murder of a prince no less. How could you even think to - "

But Karina cut her off. "And I thought you had better sense than to listen to such lies and gossip."

"They aren't lies and gossip. Yer father condemned Alecsis himself."

Karina stepped up to her maid, and gripped her by the shoulders. "I believe Alecsis is innocent, and Lorenso knows Uncle Dorban still lives."

Nira tried to wriggle free, but the princess's grip tightened, her fingernails digging into her flesh. "Then why not wait for his return? Why risk yer life for the sake of a man who may or may not be innocent?"

### "Because he's ill. He might not make the journey. I swear I'll kill myself if he dies. I shall impale myself upon The Holy Avenger so my soul will fly straight into Lorin's arms."

Nira shook her head, her dark eyes wide with shocked disbelief. "He hath bewitched ye, cast a spell over you. No sane person talks like this."

"At the moment I don't feel sane. I'm too worried about Alecsis." She released her maid. "Now I must be on my way." But as she made to brush past, Nira gripped her arm.

"If ye plan to go ahead with this madness, then at least let me accompany you."

Karina was swamped with emotion. Even though Nira didn't believe in what she was setting out to do, her ever faithful maid would risk her own life to support her. "That's not a particularly sane notion either," she couldn't help retorting.

"And neither is sitting here wondering if I'll ever see you again. I have ter stop you from jumping on the holy sword. But first, your hair. We need something to cover it. Either that or I cut if off."

"That's what I was looking for before ye found me, a cape of some sort."

Nira turned to hurry from the room. "I have just the thing. Wait here."

But Karina fell into step beside her. "I'm coming with you. I don't want you alerting anyone to my plans."

"The thought never crossed my mind," she muttered, wishing it were the truth. Nira had never been able to understand what Karina saw in that massive mountain of muscles.

After a particularly embarrassing incident in the stables she'd taken an intense dislike to him. Catching her in the arms of one of the stable-hands - she couldn't remember which one - he had carried her like a bucket of rotten swill through the building. As if that hadn't been bad enough, he chastised her in front of a group of servants gathered outside.

For weeks she'd stewed and simmered like an overheated oven. Everybody did it, she thought crossly. Why did he think it such a crime? She eventually found out why. He couldn't cope with other people's amours because he didn't get any himself. No maid was brave enough to go near him.

After that she didn't feel quite so bad, but ensured increased discretion whenever she met her lovers. And she made sure she never crossed Sir Alecsis's path again. Easier said than done when her mistress talked about him incessantly. Nira had never seen a smile cross Sir Alecsis's chiseled features, never witnessed a gentle look, and yet Karina swore he possessed such kindness she couldn't wait to marry him.

Give me a slender, dark-skinned groom any time, Nira thought. The only one she hadn't tried was the barbarian's handsome young friend. Despite his bizarre desire to copy his master by letting his hair grow, Antano had turned into a very attractive young man.

"Yer don't suppose Antano be in on the escape plan?" she couldn't help asking, knowing the youth worshiped the ground Sir Alecsis walked on.

Karina nodded as they made their way into the outer chamber, and Nira allowed herself a small smile. So their journey wouldn't be in vain, after all. "Anyone else?" she prompted.

"Lorenso," Karina answered absently.

"That cantankerous old goat! Heaven help them! They say he hasna ventured past the castle walls since his wife died. I wonder if he even remembers how ta ride a horse - "

"So where do we acquire these garments?" Karina interrupted. "If you wish to accompany me, ye need to find some men's clothes."

"Have no fear. I've pretended to be a boy afore. How else do ye suppose I get into the men's quarters and the stables?"

"You harlot!" Karina teased, watching as Nira pulled a knee-length gray tunic from the chest at the foot of her bed. Donning a pair of matching breeches, she slipped on a pair of boy's boots. Then she lifted a gray cloak from the trunk.

"I usually wear this, but I think ye be more in need of it." She passed it to Karina, who slipped it over her shoulders.

"What about your hair?"

Nira's answer was to tie it back with a thin leather band, and tuck it into the back of her tunic. Karina had to admit she could pass for a youth standing on the threshold of manhood. "Now for some protection," the maid asserted. Rummaging through the trunk again, she retrieved a short sheathed dagger.

Karina returned to her night-stand and scooped up her own weapon, a knife with a gold hilt and matching sheath. She stuck it into her belt, its obvious value clashing with her drab brown outfit. "I'm glad ye reminded me."

The woman gave each other one final perusal, checking for stray hairs and other obvious signs of femininity. Finding none, they set off, hurrying silently down the passage to the staircase that led to the ground floor.

Once they were on the winding staircase, Nira asked, "How have ye planned to get a mount without anyone seeing you?"

"By sneaking past the stable guards. I know of a back entrance."

"It may work," Nira mused. "But what of the guards at the gates? They'll want to know why someone wants to leave the palace grounds in the middle of the night."

"I shall tell them that my mother has taken gravely ill. The guard changes at three. It's almost that. I'll tell them that my sister came to the gate half an hour ago and told the last watch to fetch me." She glanced sideways at Nira, adding. "And my brother."

### So her mistress had thought out a plan, and wasn't blundering headlong into danger. "I can see naught wrong with that reasoning. But let me deal with the stable-hands. I sincerely doubt we'll be able to whisk away two horses from right under their noses. I be good friends with Duscan. He owes me a favour or two."

Aware that they had stopped, Karina nodded in agreement, and urged her maid forward. They descended the rest of the stairs and stepped into the main hall. They had no choice but traverse it, and use the double entrance doors to get out of the keep. Darting between the oil lamps still alight, they hurried across the tiled floor.

Karina took hold of the latch, carefully lifting it, knowing it had a habit of squeaking about half way up. Holding it in place, she pushed the door ajar. But she had forgotten that it also squeaked as it opened. "Quickly!" she hissed, not daring to swing the door open any wider.

Nira scurried through, Karina close behind. She eased it shut, but it still managed to clang loudly enough to make both women flinch. In the morning somebody would wonder why the door had been left unlocked, no doubt resulting in a mad rush to find out if an intruder had entered the castle. But Karina suspected that their minds would be too occupied with Alecsis's escape.

Outside, the night had become cool enough for Karina to pull her cape close. Ensuring her cowl covered most of her face, she followed Nira down the main stairs, and across the dew-covered grass towards the stables.

After the clean, crisp air of the night, the strong stench of horses made her bring a hand to cover her nose. Peering into the gloom, she followed the shadowy figure of her maid. Nira seemed to know exactly where to find Duscan. He lay curled up on a mattress of straw and hay in one of the cubicles in the stable-hands quarters.

Nira swept aside the heavy curtain cordoning off his cubicle and slipped inside. Urging Karina to stay back, she stepped up to the sleeping man, and shook his shoulder. He growled, burrowing deeper into his blankets. Nira shook him again.

### "What is it?" he grumbled, slowly sitting up. His rough woolen blanket slipped from his shoulders, revealing a slim, sweat-slicked body. "Nira!" he gasped, on recognizing the intruder. "You want it now?" And then his gaze fell on Karina. "What's going on?"

"My brother and I need yer help," she whispered, motioning in Karina's direction.

"I didna know ye had a brother," Duscan remarked, now fully alert. He reached for a faded shirt hanging from a nail on the other side of the cubicle, and slipped it on.

"There are many things ye don't know about me, Duscan. Our mother has fallen gravely ill - "

"I didn't know ye had a mother either," he went on.

### "Will yer shut up and listen? We need mounts. We have to see her in case 'tis fatal." She smiled sweetly at him, her hand going out to caress his arm. "If ye do this for me, ye will find me climbing under yer covers in the middle of the night."

Even in the dim light, Karina saw his white teeth flash licentiously. She felt an uncomfortable shudder pass though her. How could people do this without love? she wondered. Alecsis had never looked at her with such wickedness. His gaze had always been tender and shy.

Slipping on a pair of breeches, Duscan jumped from the bed. "Then mounts ye shall have. How 'bout a prelude before ye go?" he suggested, flashing her that wicked grin again.

Nira held up a hand to stop his advance. "Not in front of me brother. Can't ye see how concerned he is 'bout our mother, how concerned I am?"

Duscan glanced at Karina. "Can't see much of him at all. But if 'tis for your ailing ma, then I best wait for me reward." He stepped towards Karina, and she retreated from the doorway, allowing him to enter the main body of the stable. Grateful that he hadn't tried to take a closer look at her, she followed him to a nearby stall. "Will Bella do?" he asked, motioning to a sleekly brushed brown mare with a white patch above her eyes.

"She looks fine to me," Nira answered for her. "Since when did the king ever breed a second rate horse? Now show me mine."

Leaving Karina to open the stall, they headed to one several doors along. Glad to see things flowing so smoothly, the princess lead Bella out. Stepping back, and urging the mare towards the main doors, she bumped into something soft, but unyielding.

With a gasp, she swung round. In front of her stood a short, rotund man, with a rodent-like face. "What's going on here?" he demanded. On no, she thought in dismay, recognition dawning. It's Anpree, the stable-master.

Duscan appeared at her side, leading a gray mare. "These lads need'ta see their ailing ma. 'Tis urgent and can't wait till morning."

Oh, thank you, Duscan, Nira thought. You shall get more than one midnight visit for this. Unfortunately Anpree did not step aside to let them past.

"Why didn't ye come and see me 'bout it first?" the surly stable-master demanded. "They might be stealing them from under our noses. I don't like tha look of 'em, particularly this one, hiding so guiltily under his cowl." Lifting a burly arm, he swept the covering from Karina's head. Her startled look of dismay must have softened something within him, for her stopped to peer into her face. "Yer mother is ill, you say?"

Karina nodded solemnly, hoping beyond hope that he wouldn't recognize her.

"No-one can fake that kinda concern. The lad's shaking in 'is boots," he said, finally turning away from her. "Okay, saddle the horses for 'em. But I want 'em back afore nightfall, or me men'll come out looking for yer. Exactly where are ye taking 'em?"

"To the Ingot farm. Our father's a farmhand there," Nira improvised.

"Right'o." Anpree waved them off, and then turned to Duscan. "In future, I want ta be informed of unauthorized use of the horses. Is that understood?"

"Yessir," Duscan muttered meekly, and followed the two women to the saddlery.

Mounted and out of the stables, Nira leant towards Karina. "Now we only have to get past the guards as the gate."

Once Nira had explained their destination, and that Anpree himself had agreed on the use of the mounts, they were waved through the barbican, the great iron gate rising ahead of them. In times of peace, the drawbridge stayed down, and they rode their horses across it at a quick canter.

They woke the guards stationed outside. Out of the corner of her eye, Karina saw them scramble guiltily to their feet. Once they reached the town, they spurred their horses into a gallop, their hooves on the cobblestones echoing up and down the sleeping valley.

They rode until it grew light, Karina having no trouble finding the seldom used back route. When the sun reached tentative fingers across the sky, the two women dismounted and led their horses into the undergrowth. Stepping cautiously into the vegetation, they heard the unmistakable sound of running water. The soothing babbling of a nearby creek soon lulled them to sleep.

The drumming hooves of King Rostan's troops scouting the area failed to rouse them. Neither did they hear their cursing obscenities on their return journey.

What did rouse them was the sound of a man singing an alien song in a tongue Karina did not understand. For a moment she lay there, soothed by the deep, seductive tones. But then she saw reason, remembering with a start where she was.

Scrambling out of her cloak which had acted as bedding during the night, she sat up and glanced around. The sun hovered in the western sky, the heat of the day already fading from the air. She felt hot, sticky and hungry.

Turning towards the sound, she saw Nira hunkered down on the edge of the slope, and realized the singing was coming from the creek. On hearing Karina moving about, Nira turned and motioned her over. Crawling on all fours towards her maid, she followed Nira's gaze, her eyes growing wide in astonishment.
TWELVE

PASSION'S POWER

The creek resumed its own babbling tune. For a while its chattering had been relegated to the background, almost as though it feared to impose on the power of Alecsis's song.

"What does it mean?" Antano asked, wringing the last of the water from his breeches. Laying them out beside his drying tunic, he turned back to the big, blonde man crouched on a similar rock under an overhanging tree branch.

"'Tis a holy song. Homage to a God whose name I have forgotten," Alecsis answered as he started scrubbing his soiled top. Lorenso had the forethought to include some scented soap in his pack, its fragrance still clinging to his skin.

Lorenso had cancelled the unnerving invisibility spell not long after Alecsis woke, saying the troops searching for them had come and gone. Alecsis never had handled that spell well. Something irked him about being no more than a shadowy outline. Once his perception of himself had returned to normal, Alecsis was relieved to see his wound had become nothing more than a thin mark upon his skin.

Feeling exhilarated by his rejuvenating sleep, he'd taken off at a run through the forest, almost falling head first into the stream they were now bathing in. He had no recollection of the tortuous healing process during the night, just as he couldn't remember from whence he'd learnt the melodic verses.

"It isn't an Avionan dialect, is it?" Antano asked, stretching out on his rock. Now completely naked, his honey-brown skin glistened in the afternoon sunshine.

"Nay," Alecsis replied, wishing he could lie in the sun for hours like Antano.

"How is it ye can recall the words to the songs, but not how ye came to learn them?" Antano asked.

Alecsis shook his head, causing a wave of drying hair to fall in his face. Sweeping it back with a free hand, he stared up at the embankment. "Sometimes I wonder that myself." A flicker of colour caught his eye. Instinctively he knew someone was crouching behind one of the pink flowering bushes, watching them.

### With a swift, fluid movement, Alecsis grabbed his sword and jumped to his feet. "Show yourselves, or suffer the consequences," he bellowed, conscious of Antano staring up at him in alarm. "Protect yourself," he hissed at the youth. Needing no further encouragement, Antano dived head-first into the water, not surfacing until he'd reached the other side of the creek.

"That be the kind of armour I like to see a knight in," a shrill, highly amused voice cried out from above.

### Alecsis acted on instinct. Swinging The Holy Avenger up in an arc, Alecsis severed the sturdy tree branch, sending it and its occupant tumbling into the creek with a loud splash.

A bedraggled figure hauled itself up out of the water, but stopped when the point of Alecsis's sword touched its chest. Scrambling back, the individual blinked up at him. "Is that the way ye treat yer intended? 'Tis I, Karina." Reaching up, she loosened the ribbon from her dripping hair, letting it fall freely over her shoulders.

Slowly Alecsis lowered his sword, recognition dawning. "Karina?" he croaked. "Is that really you?"

She nodded solemnly, water running into her eyes.

So used to handling possibly dangerous situations with force, Alecsis barged on with his interrogation. "What do you here, and why are ye dressed in a boy's tunic?"

"I came to find you," she whispered. For the first time he noticed the way she was staring up at him. With a gasp of embarrassment, he clasped his free hand over his privates.

Karina saw the flush spread across his face and creep down his neck. She couldn't help smiling at his belated modesty.

Propriety sweeping his embarrassment aside, Alecsis extended his hand. As she placed hers into it, he lifted her onto his rock. "Now ye can look directly into my eyes as you answer my next question. What on earth possessed ye to undertake such a dangerous mission?"

"Because I love you, because I was worried about you, particularly with ye being so badly injured," she answered, sliding her arms around his waist.

Her fingers against his skin sent a spear of longing through him. Never having felt a woman's hands against his bare flesh, Alecsis began to tremble. She hadn't been repulsed by his naked body, after all.

If he wasn't mistaken, a touch of desire tinged her midnight blue eyes. He should have known better. Karina loved him for who he was, not what he looked like. A swirl of elation coiled around his heart and warmed his soul. "It has healed, as you have no doubt already noticed."

"There's not a mark on you." Karina smiled, and moved one of her hands round to caress his stomach where the wound had been. His skin felt warm and smooth under her touch.

"Wh- who are you travelling with?" he asked shakily. "I saw another figure."

"Nira, my maid."

Reluctantly he pulled away from her and turned back to the embankment. "Ye can come out now," he called.

"She already did. See!" Karina pointed behind him, and Alecsis turned to watch the dark-haired maid swimming through the creek towards Antano. "Nira seems to have taken a liking to him. Methinks we should leave them alone for a while."

Alecsis returned his attention to Karina. "If she be anything like you, he won't stand a chance." He smiled, his green eyes twinkling. Releasing her, he bent to pick up his damp clothing. "We have a few things to discuss. Shall we take the opposite embankment?"

Antano and Nira had already disappeared as they clambered up the hillside where Karina had left her cloak. Alecsis collected his boots along the way, and stabbed the sword into the earth a few feet away from where Karina and Nira were camped. It glowed slightly at losing touch with its earth bound owner. As Karina sat down on her cloak, Alecsis straightened out his rumpled trousers, preparing to slip them on, but Karina reached for his hand.

"I prefer you in what ye've got on," she said, pulling him down onto the cloak beside her.

"Why are you the only woman who finds my paleness attractive? You, who could have virtually any man in court."

Karina's mouth puckered. "That's where you're mistaken. My brothers can take any woman they please, but a princess must remain pure for her husband, usually a man chosen for her by her father. In many ways I have more restrictions placed on me than someone of Nira's standing. I possess beautiful clothes and jewelry, but my life is not my own. 'Tis why I made it so plainly obvious to my father that I wanted you. If I hadn't, he would simply have married me off to some distant lord."

Alecsis frowned, a touch of sadness shadowing his eyes. "Yer father really thinks so poorly of you?"

"'Tis why I can't wait to marry you and leave Scarthe."

"Where will we go?"

"Wherever father thinks is suitable."

Alecsis took a deep breath and swallowed hard. "Would it distress you unduly if we didn't accept your father's dowry and found our own way in the world?"

He knew he was asking a great deal. What woman of her standing would throw away her position to follow a mere knight into the unknown? Alecsis had almost given up on finding anything out about his past. If after three years all he received were fleeting flashes of dark emotion, he was prepared to let it lie. Instead he focused on the future. Alecsis could think of nothing more fulfilling than having Karina at his side.

"I would follow ye to the ends of the earth, Alecsis dearest," she reassured him, gently squeezing his hand. "But I doubt my father would see it that way."

"If I return with Prince Dorban he would have to honour my request. He hath already done me one injustice. He wouldn't dare commit another."

"My father can be a stubborn old mule when he wants to, but aye, honour would come into play, particularly if Uncle Dorban were present. My uncle is a good man. He would ensure you got yer reward."

"Then we must urge him to come to Scarthe." Alecsis moved to extricate his hand from hers, but Karina held it fast. "The day grows old. Braythe is three days away. We should be on our way."

"Oh Alecsis!" Karina sighed. "Always doing what's right, never listening to yer heart. How can ye sit there and not even give me a kiss?"

"I do apologize," Alecsis murmured, suddenly aware of how much he wanted to do precisely that. Letting the bundle of clothes tumble from his grasp, he drew her close. Enveloping her in his embrace, he touched his mouth to hers and drowned in her sweetness.

They lay back on the cloak, mouths and limbs entwined in passionate embrace. Alecsis longed to go on kissing her tender lips forever. But eventually he drew away. For a moment they lay there gazing into each others' eyes. Then Karina sat up, but Alecsis suddenly felt too weary to return to camp. For a moment he stared up at the late afternoon sky, a few wispy white clouds contrasting with the deep blue canopy.

Karina's fidgeting attracted his attention. To his surprise, he saw she had removed her tunic, and was now unwinding the silk sash from her breasts.

"What are ye doing?" he gasped, struggling to sit up.

Placing a hand against his chest, she urged him back down. "What does it look like? I want to make our love whole."

"We - we can do that on our wedding night," he stammered, staring in wonder as her beautiful full breasts swung free. A shudder of desire rocketed through his loins, filling him with a searing heat.

"And what if there is no wedding night? What if we never reach Uncle Dorban's court? Did yer night in the dungeon not prove how easily things fall apart? Love is everlasting, but its joys are not. What holds you back, Alecsis? Why are ye so shy?"

She leaned over him, the soft silkiness of her hair tumbling against his cheeks. He stared up into her flushed face, her dark eyes wide with passion. Weren't virgin girls supposed to be reluctant and uncertain? Alecsis trembled, realizing he was the reluctant one.

How many times had he longed for a woman's touch, yearned for tenderness to thaw the cold emptiness inside? And now that he had his chance he quivered with uncertainty. What foolishness had control of him now? Certainly not fear of King Rostan finding out. What could he possibly do to him except throw him back into the dungeon with the threat of his head on a stick?

She had offered herself to him. He'd be a fool to resist, and gently cupped her full, ripe breasts, rubbing his fingers over the hard nipples. She threw her head back in pleasure as he drew a pink bud into his mouth. He felt her hands in his hair as he tasted her honeyed warmth.

"I take it all back," she giggled ecstatically. "Shyness does not describe what ye're doing to me now." She rocked against him, and he took his fill, drowning in her soft cleavage. His hands slid down her body to the downy triangle between her legs. He let his fingers explore the hot, moist folds of her womanhood. She trembled and writhed against him as he stroked and coaxed.

"Oh!" she gasped. "How did you know?"

"Know what, my love?" he whispered against her ear.

Karina couldn't answer. She was too lost in the pleasures his gentle touch evoked. Shivers of delight sizzled through her body, and she collapsed against him, shuddering with release. Making love to Alecsis was everything she had ever dreamed of.

She lifted her head to look into his flushed face. "That felt incredible. But it's not over yet."

"You want more?"

"I want it all, Alecsis. And you want me too. I can feel it." She started stroking his hot, yearning manhood. He shuddered with pleasure, but as his eyes dropped shut, something black and sinister slid into his mind. His eyes snapped open, and he focussed on Karina's face. The revulsion faded, but it left him wondering where it came from. He realized he had wilted under her touch, and she looked at him in confusion.

"'Tis all right, Karina. If you want our wedding night to take place now, I will happily oblige," he said, banishing the unknown demons from the past. If he could not remember, then they couldn't hurt him. He kissed her, gently at first, then with increased passion. Alecsis didn't stop at her mouth, finding the sensitive spot at the base of her neck. Again she stroked him, coaxing him back to life.

Sliding her beneath him, he finally claimed her. Karina felt little pain, a sharp jab, then nothing but pleasure. She had what she wanted, after all, Alecsis's soul bound to hers.

Alecsis had never felt such intense excitement. The shadows from the past were forgotten as he plunged into her hot, moist flesh. The burning ecstasy became almost too much to bear. With a shudder, he filled her eager body, moaning and clasping her tight. "Karina. Karina... I never knew t'would be like this."

"Neither did I," she whispered back, her body trembling with the same fierce passion as his.

"Never knew. Never knew," he murmured again, collapsing beside her. He reached for the edges of the cape and drew it over them. Full of glowing warmth, he wrapped his limbs around hers.

Karina snuggled against him, conscious of his seed inside her. Let me be with child, she prayed to Lorin. I so want to be the first Avionan to give birth to a golden-haired baby.

Lorenso cursed the foolishness of youth. He stomped around the campsite like a bull seeing red. The four recipients of his wrath crouched well back, waiting fearfully for his tirade to finish. They all knew that enraging a wizard could have dire consequences. He was likely to cast an instant aging spell over someone to teach them a lesson. Karina feared it would be her. She had instigated the chase, after all.

"First I find you two frolicking stark naked in the creek," the old magician pointed an accusing finger at Antano and Nira. Both ducked their heads, fearing a shaft of magic to emerge from the digit.

"Then," he whirled around. "I find you two in the same state of undress, wrapped around each other on the grass. I can't begin to contemplate what yer father will say when he finds out." He pointed at Karina, who clung to Alecsis's arm as though her life depended on it.

"As for you." He stood over Alecsis. "Why couldst ye not wait? Why dammit? Answer me!"

Alecsis couldn't. Normally a self-controlled person, he didn't know what had come over him, other than the need to assuage the long, empty years of denial.

Karina had been so warm, so yielding, but he should have held back. He knew that now. She wasn't some serving wench willing to accommodate any man who asked. She was a princess, a woman of royal blood. What right did he have to take her, particularly now that he had no idea if they would be allowed to marry?

"And why did ye deliberately disobey me, Karina? I told you we would return with Prince Dorban." Lorenso threw up his hands in frustration. "I have a good mind to teach ye all a lesson." He glared pointedly at each of them in turn. Nobody dared meet his glowering dark eyes.

He swung around again. "I will have to send you back," he decided, hoisting up his wide sleeves to begin an incantation.

### "NAY!" Karina shrieked, jumping to her feet. Grabbing hold of his arm, she finally met his angry eyes. "Please don't do that!"

"Give me one good reason why I should not?"

"Because I love Alecsis. Because I cannot bear to be without him. I will not face my father without Alecsis by my side. 'Twas I who urged him into the coupling. 'Twas I who could not wait. Don't blame Alecsis. His honour is still as strong as ever. He's still the man he always was."

"Is he, Karina?" Lorenso demanded harshly, wrenching his arm from her grasp. "I told ye yer presence would distract him. Where was his mind when he took you into his arms? Certainly not on our mission, and definitely not on prospective danger."

Suddenly Alecsis jumped to his feet and faced the irate magician. "Have ye forgotten what it's like to be young and impulsive? You were married once. You must have loved your wife."

"But everything had a time and a place," Lorenso retorted hotly. "Sit down. I will deal with you later."

Alecsis remained where he was, and stared pointedly into the old mage's eyes. "Ye'll deal with me now."

Lorenso muttered something unintelligible under his breath. "All right, Alecsis," he said slowly. "Why did you do it?"

"Because I was overcome with emotion, guided by my body's needs if ye will. Unlike other young men, I've never had the opportunity to... to experiment." He spread his hands. "Nobody would have me. Karina might be of royal blood, but she loves me for who I am. She offered herself to me and I lapped up her tenderness like the starved man I was." He tapped his forehead. "In my mind I know 'twas wrong, but in my heart it felt right. It was the most beautiful experience in my life... I would do anything for her. I love her with every fibre of my being. I will never love another."

For a moment silence hung in the tense air, then Lorenso heaved a heavy sigh. "So, ye refuse to let me send the girls back?"

"Absolutely not," Karina retorted.

"I was talking to Alecsis."

"Nay, they can come. Karina has cousins at Braythe. I'm sure they will be pleased to see her. And a princess rarely travels without her maid."

"And her maid rarely leaves her side," Lorenso said. "They shall sleep together, not with either of you amorous young pups. There shall be no frolicking in this camp. Is that clear?"

"Clear as crystal," Alecsis answered. Crystal? He mused. What on earth was that? Something from his past no doubt. If he could recall the songs of his youth, and a strange substance called crystal, was it possible that his memories would eventually return of their own accord?

No, I don't want them. They will only torment me. Stay where you are, past. Stay lost at sea. Turning on his heel, he stalked off to gather some wood to start a fire.
THIRTEEN

MURDER IN THE COURT

They reached the outskirts of Braythe three and a half days later. Fearing Lorenso's wrath, the four young people only spent time together around the campfire at night. During the day they sat upon their horses, deeply enmeshed in their own thoughts and worries.

Antano was the only one who maintained his high spirits, finding Lorenso's antediluvian attitude amusing, but Nira really made him smile. Oh, he knew she was a tart, having heard all about her escapades with the stablehands, but he couldn't help feeling elated when he discovered she thought him mature enough to draw her attention. Nira was only the second girl he had enjoyed in this way, and as they had scurried into the bushes, he feared she would be turned off by his inexperience.

Nothing of the sort had occurred, and now Antano truly felt a man of the world. Knowing Alecsis had finally discovered the same joys with Karina also pleased him. Something had always irked him about Alecsis's seeming indifference to the female gender.

For some time he thought the pocked old whore from Linkana may have been to blame. Now he knew the real reason Antano almost felt sorry for him. Alecsis had been too full of self-doubt, too uncertain about his unusual appearance.

People didn't find him nearly as ugly as he thought they did. Merely different. Most were in awe of him. Antano knew of two jealous princes who fell into this category. He'd never liked the selfish young fops. They should have been the ones to fight Captain Krystos and his crew. Then he and Alecsis wouldn't be in this predicament.

Karina's thoughts were moving along similar lines. Here she was, her legs and rear aching from days in the saddle, when it should have been her father and brothers making the trip to ensure Prince Dorban's safety. But then the men of Scarthe Court never did have much sense. Leadership should be earned, not a Fortis given right simply because the individual was male and born of royal blood.

Alecsis possessed the qualities of a true leader, she thought. Strength, courage, righteousness. Keeping her gaze on his straight, broad back, she recalled the bliss of their union. Nothing anyone said or did would ever make her regret it. Over the past few nights she'd drifted off gazing longingly across the smoldering fire at his sleeping form. The flames dancing across his face drew her attention to the sharp contrast between his angular features and his gentle mouth. It made her conscious of how much his face reflected his personality; hard and ruthless on the battlefield, but kind and giving to those he loved.

Conscious that she was boring holes into his back, she returned her attention to the surrounding countryside. The main road into Braythe was lined with overhanging trees, spangled with pink flowers that would soon ripen into red berry-fruit passers by could pick at their leisure.

They came upon the township suddenly. Rounding a bend in the road, the high protective wall loomed above them. Built during times of great upheaval, the stone barrier stood over ten feet tall. Sentries still guarded the heavy iron gate, but it usually stood open. Today it did not. Two guards to inquire about the nature of ones business were usually enough, but there were at least ten milling about outside, several on horseback. All were heavily armored, weapons at the ready. Clad in Prince Dorban's colours, deep ochre surcoats over their platemail, they cut imposing figures.

"Halt! State your business," one of them demanded on seeing the small party approach. A short, slender fellow, his loud bellow didn't suit his small frame.

They all exchanged glances. Alecsis, used to confrontation, eased his mount forward, but Lorenso stuck out his hand. "Let me handle it," he said. "I have an uneasy feeling about this."

Never one to question the old magician's intuition, Alecsis stopped, allowing Lorenso to move to the front of the group.

"We are here to seek counsel with the prince. My name is Lorenso. I am the palace magician from King Rostan's court. And this is Sir Alecsis, his first knight." He motioned to the man in question, then indicated the two women. "His daughter, Princess Karina, and her maid, Nira."

"Why are they dressed as boys?" the same guard asked curtly.

"It was the only way they could get here quickly, women's clothing too cumbersome over long journeys," Lorenso improvised.

The guard still wasn't convinced. "I don't believe ye're really are who ye state. Prove you're King Rostan's daughter. Show us your travel pass."

"Travel pass? Since when did ambassadors of the court have to carry travel passes?" Alecsis asked. Not once had he been issued with documentation; most people recognized him on the spot. "If this be a recent innovation by Prince Dorban, perhaps one of you gentleman would like to pass the message to the prince informing him of our arrival, so he can send us an escort."

"'Tis impossible," the guard stated.

"Why?" everyone seemed to ask at once.

"Because the prince is dead," came the blunt answer.

### "What?" they chorused again.

### "He was murdered in his bed last night. His wife found his body this morning. However, nobody can find his head. It seems to have magically disappeared." This emphasis was directed at Lorenso, who's gut was churning sickly. Now he knew for certain something sinister was at play.

Alecsis sensed his troubled thoughts, and turned to the mage. Lorenso gave him a warning look not to say another word.

"I take it this means we're not permitted to enter the town," Lorenso said.

"Nobody is allowed in or out until the prince's murderer is found."

"So be it." With that, Lorenso swung his mount around and motioned for his party to follow.

### "But I want to see my cousins. Surely they'll need consoling at a time like this!" Karina cried as the mage cantered to a stop beside her. He grabbed hold of her horse's rains, and leaned towards her. "Ye'll follow me, now. We'll discuss the matter ere we're safe."

Then she saw the fear in his eyes. She needed no further warning. If an experienced mage was afraid, then the situation had to be very grim indeed.

"Halt!" the guard yelled after them. "We wish to question you further."

"Not likely," Lorenso muttered under his breath, digging his knees into his mount's flanks.

It wasn't until they had been riding steadily for about ten minutes that Alecsis dared look back. True to his suspicion he saw the mounted guards following them through a gap in the trees. Still a long way back, he knew they would have to move quickly if they wanted to lose them. Even if a messenger from Rostan's court hadn't beaten them to Braythe, they would be under suspicion simply by the strange nature of their party. In rescuing him, Lorenso, Antano and his beloved Karina were now in mortal danger.

Speeding up his pace, he urged the others on. Now at the head of the group, Alecsis gripped the reigns tightly, wondering what was going on. Why in the name of Serpon would anyone kill the peace-loving Prince Dorban and then seek to frame Alecsis for the deed? Once again King Rostan's two jealous sons came to mind. Who else had the resources to sneak past Rostan's guards and into his private bedchamber? Who else hated him enough?

"Did anyone see a turn off on the way?" he finally called over his shoulder.

"Why be we in such a hurry?" Karina yelled back.

"The guards are following us," Alecsis told her. "We have to lose them somehow. They're gaining on us. Our horses are tired and in need of a rest. Theirs are fresh and ready for a chase."

"Yes, I think there was a turn off," Karina called out. "If my memory serves me correctly, a road leads up to the Sirmon Ranges. We could lose them in the rocks, but 'tis an inhospitable place. Few dare venture there after dark. Rumour has it that banished spirits lurk there, that they howl like ghosts in the dead of night."

"How did ye find out about this place?" The lovers were now riding neck and neck, and Alecsis caught her gaze. She looked frightened. I'll protect you, my love, he thought, trying to convey this message to her with his eyes.

"Father showed me the way when we were children. I know my way around Scarthe and Braythe as well as any man." Although this comment had been directed at Lorenso, she knew he hadn't heard her. He was too far behind them. Not far behind him were their pursuers. Why didn't Lorenso do something to stop them? Surely he knew a few spells to throw them off their trail.

"Sirmon Ranges it is then," Alecsis cried. "I hope we reach this turn off soon." He tried to urge his mare to speed up, but she was exhausted, her coat lathered with sweat, her breathing laboured.

They almost missed the turn off. It was little more than a gap in the trees, and Alecsis rode right past it, but Karina knew the spot. She remembered the disused barn in the field opposite.

With a quick flick of her reigns, Karina urged her horse into the forest. As Alecsis swung his mount around to follow, he saw the rest of his party disappear through the line of trees, and caught a glimpse of their pursuers' distinctive colours through the foliage further down the road. He prayed they wouldn't see the route his party had taken. They would work it out eventually, but hopefully it would give them enough time to find a hiding place and work out what to do next.

The path was narrow and uneven. They had to move slowly to avoid low hanging branches and roots protruding from the ground. The denseness of the foliage blocked out the sun, making it as dark as twilight. The damp air was heavy with the sickeningly sweet stench of decay and regrowth. The slower pace gave the horses some respite, but Alecsis continued to listen for their pursuers.

The faint drumming of hooves indicated the soldiers were still moving at a gallop, but because the track had taken several twists and turns, Alecsis couldn't tell whether they had passed the turn off or not.

Sudden shouting greeted his ears. It sounded like every one was yelling at once. Alecsis thought he overheard the words; "Did you see them, a party returning to Scarthe?"

Who had they met along the way? Alecsis wondered. He received his answer a moment later.

"Seeking three fugitives... Murdered the prince."

King Rostan's men, he realized, which meant another search party from Scarthe had been less than an hour behind them.

"They must have gone this way," he heard someone bellow.

Now we have two parties after us, Alecsis thought in dismay. "They've found out where we're headed," he hissed in a loud whisper.

"Keep moving," Lorenso urged. "Time for some spell-binding. I'll stay behind to cast a suggestion over their minds to make them think this road is blocked so they can't go on... If only I could make them forget who they are looking for... Too much energy required for that... Have to consume my strength... Fear I'll need it." He saw the questioning look in everyone's eyes, but didn't have time to explain. He wasn't even sure he could. He sensed great danger ahead, something that would test his powers to the limit. "Go!" he urged. "And don't look back. I'll find you."

"How?" Antano asked.

### "Give me The Avenger, Alecsis. It's holy light will guide me to you."

### With no time to unclip the entire sword-belt, Alecsis yanked the weapon from its scabbard with a loud shing of metal, and threw it hilt first to the mage. Lorenso caught it, and holding it by his side, he turned back in the direction they had come. The Holy Avenger started to glow faintly the moment it left Alecsis's hands. Bound to its current owner by a force Lorenso had created himself, the wizard was able to deactivate it temporarily by a simple incantation. He didn't want the weapon growing ever brighter the further away Alecsis went.

### Their pursuers were closer than Lorenso had thought. He caught a glimpse of them moving through the foliage a few minutes later. So far they hadn't caught sight of him, and laying The Avenger across his knees, he immediately began the spell of suggestion. More than six verses long, and requiring the harnessing of all of his mental energy, they would be upon him before he finished.

He was right. Halfway through the fourth stanza one of them saw him. Raising his sword, the man yelled, "We have them now."

A powerful spell could never be rushed, and neither should it be interrupted. Lorenso refused to let their appearance make the harnessing of his inner power falter.

"Will ye give yourself up willingly, or do I have to use this?" the man asked, jabbing his weapon in the air. Lorenso continued to mutter words which meant nothing to the soldier. He reached for the slack reigns of the wizard's skittish horse with his free hand. At that moment Lorenso shouted the release word, his arms thrust forward.

The man withdrew his hand, his eyes clouding in confusion. "Er, I don't think they came this way," he said, his voice slow and halting. "The road looks impenetrable. We'll have to turn back."

"I think ye're right," the man directly behind him answered blandly.

Lorenso had to smile. There he was, directly in front of their eyes, and they were deciding to head back. Due to the narrowness of the track, they had to turn around one by one, the last man now the first.

He expelled a deep sigh of relief once they were gone, finally succumbing to the weariness seeping though his bones. You're getting old, Renso, he told himself. Such a spell would never have weakened him this much in his younger days. But this wasn't what worried him. Lorenso didn't fear death. He was more concerned with what was to come. The final battle had yet to be staged. He felt it in his bones, and it chilled him to the core. Somewhere out there stalked his nemesis. Lorenso hoped he had enough strength left to face him.

### Forcing the terrible truth from his mind, he reactivated the bond that linked The Holy Avenger to Alecsis. In the fading light it glowed a bright yellow, leading the way through the shadows.

### They had set up camp in a protected circle of rocks that acted like a small courtyard. Without The Avenger's guiding light Lorenso would never have found them. Nobody could see their campfire from the track that had degenerated into a thinly marked route through the boulders.

The abundance of vegetation had given way to a barren wasteland within a few hundred metres, almost as though some deadly disease had killed off Navin's work. No doubt a legend presided in these parts about why nature changed so abruptly from dense vegetation to a few stunted shrubs clinging tenuously to the rocky ground, but Lorenso wasn't familiar with myth and folklore. Spell-binding left little time to learn about the beliefs of others.

A biting wind screeched through the crags. Not only did the ground become rougher, but the air grew ever colder and the spirits whispered louder. Lorenso wasn't the only one to hear their angry mutterings.

"They get more distressed the higher up one goes," Karina said as the wizard crouched close to the fire. Everyone sat huddled in their cloaks, warming their hands over the flames.

"Who are they and what do they want?" Antano asked.

"Tortured souls one or all the gods thought unworthy of a place on the other side," Karina answered. "Or so the legend goes. It was their anger at being barred from a spot in paradise that made them destroy this place. Every year it grows larger as more souls arrive, but it doesn't seem changed to me. Perhaps fewer people have been judged these past years."

"I can hear naught more than the wind," Nira murmured, pulling her cloak tight.

"'Tis probably just as well. I fear their voices will keep me awake most of the night," Lorenso remarked.

Alecsis drew Karina close, wrapping his arms tightly around her. "They won't trouble us, will they?"

"As long as we leave them alone, aye," she answered.

"I have no intention of disturbing the dead," Antano muttered, reaching out to turn over the bird roasting on the fire. They had been lucky to catch it. Few animals dared venture this high, and the four young people had feared they'd go hungry this night, their food supply having dwindled to a few pieces of dried fruit and lumps of stale bread. Alecsis's quick reflexes had saved them from going to sleep with rumbling stomachs. He shot the bird down with the small slingshot Lorenso had packed in Antano's rucksack.

"Can ye understand anything the spirits are saying?" Lorenso asked Alecsis.

The young man looked thoughtful for a moment, and then shook his head. "Nay, all I hear is their pain." He shuddered. "I think they might keep me awake as well."

"Yer power is strong, Alecsis. If only Rostan had allowed me to teach you how to use it properly... Scarthe needs a new spell-binder."

Alecsis frowned, his blonde brows coming together. "It will never be me now. We're fugitives... all of us." He turned to stare at them in turn, the flickering light of the fire making his fair skin look almost translucent. "In rescuing me ye're all in danger."

He watched Karina's maid clutch Antano's arm, and fixed his intense gaze on her. "Do ye wish you were safe in your bed, Nira?"

"I - I want to be with my mistress," she whispered hoarsely.

Silence fell, and they all slipped into deep reverie of their own, their eyes focused on the flames cooking their meager meal. Finally Antano skewered the bird with his knife and removed it from the fire. Placing it on a large flat stone beside him, he started slicing it up.

"So who do ye think killed Uncle Dorban?" Karina asked as she accepted her portion.

"Do any of you suspect me?" Alecsis asked, once again trying to meet everyone's gaze. Nira was the only one to look away. He had never liked the girl, finding her too loose in her morals. But she seemed to care for Karina, which he supposed was all that mattered for now.

"What makes ye ask such a foolish question?" Lorenso snorted. "Of course we don't suspect you."

Alecsis shrugged his broad shoulders. "I was openly accused of the crime before. Perhaps I sneaked off last night while you all slept."

Karina jabbed him in the ribs with a pointy elbow. "Don't talk such nonsense."

"Then who?" Alecsis demanded. "Who would want Prince Dorban dead?"

The time had come for Lorenso to voice his suspicions. "I think I know."

"Then tell us," Antano urged.

Lorenso sighed heavily, wishing it was anything but the truth. "Leonado, my son," he said eventually.
FOURTEEN

WAR OF THE WIZARDS

A deadly silence fell among the group. Suddenly the wailing of the condemned spirits seemed closer, as though they hovered on the other side of the rocks that sheltered them from the wind. The flames from the fire cast eerie shadows over their faces, drawing out the worry and confusion in their features. Everybody had known or heard about Lorenso's renegade son, but none thought him capable of such a heinous crime. Of course they believed Lorenso. The old magician never lied.

"How astute of you. I was wondering how long t'would take ye to figure that out," a high-pitched, but confident voice echoed around their alcove.

### Alecsis, as usual was the first to react. Unsheathing The Holy Avenger Lorenso had so recently returned to him, he sprang to his feet, peering into the gloom surrounding them. The fire failed to penetrate the night beyond their small camp. Even the stars looked smaller and further away. The enchanted sword started to glow red, indicating an evil presence.

### "Show yourself, or suffer the consequences," Alecsis bellowed, taking up a protective stance.

"Always the brave one, Sir Alecsis," the disembodied voice crooned with deceptive sweetness.

Alecsis jumped over the fire and darted into the darkness, swinging the glowing sword in front of him. "Where are ye, you little weasel? Come out and fight like a man!"

### An evil cackle emanated from behind him, and he swung round in time to see a figure materialize beside the eddying fire. Alecsis gasped, recognition dawning. So his suspicions had been correct. Lorenso's son was the flashy little upstart from the pirate's camp - an upstart that was supposed to be well and truly dead.

"I saw you die before my very eyes," Alecsis cried in bewilderment. "Shot through the stomach with a poisoned arrow. Are ye a ghost?" He certainly acted like a spirit, appearing out of nowhere, but he seemed solid enough now, and if he really was Lorenso's son, he was probably capable of some very powerful spell-binding indeed.

Leonado laughed again. He looked no less flamboyant than he had last time, wearing more jewelry than a monarch at a royal function. "It takes more than poison to do me in. Nay, it would take an extremely powerful wizard to put me under the ground."

"That can be arranged," Lorenso said through clenched teeth.

"So you do move. I was starting to wonder if ye'd been frozen into immobility by one of yer own incantations. Old age has been known to cause spells to backfire. What with the mind not being as active as it once was. When the memory fades, essential words are easily forgotten," Lorenso sneered.

### As he turned to face his father, Alecsis rushed at him from behind, but it seemed Leonado had eyes in the back of his head. The Holy Avenger was wrenched from his grasp by invisible hands. He stared in horror as the sword spun through the air. Swinging round he rushed after it, but felt something snag his foot, tripping him up. He fell heavily on his stomach.

Gasping, he glanced round, and saw a large clawed hand shackle his foot. Made of earth and stone, it pinned him to the spot. As he heard the sword clatter to the ground somewhere in the darkness, another claw grasped his other foot, rendering him immobile.

Staring frantically around, he saw the evilly enchanted earth grab his companions in the same way. Even Lorenso was snared, but for him the flamboyant young sorcerer drew on extra reserves. Weaving his slender hands around each other, a vine grew from a stunted bush nearby, entwining itself around the old magician's wrists before he had the chance to counteract the spell.

The only one spared from the earth-bound shackles was Karina, and a deep sense of dread sneaked up on Alecsis. He realized why Karina hadn't been subjected to the same spell as soon as Leonado started towards her. The glitter of lust in his eyes burned brightly enough for all to see.

### "NO!" Alecsis screamed. "Don't you dare touch her!"

"And what will ye do about it, stuck there like a shag on a rock?" Leonado retorted with a chuckle, continuing to advance on the cornered princess. She had retreated to the rock face, and her frantic eyes met Alecsis's. Please save me! they begged, and Alecsis struggled like a madman against his bonds, but the harder he pulled the tighter they grew, biting through his leggings into his calves.

### "I'll kill you if you so much as lay a hand on her!" Alecsis bellowed. His fury at being unable to escape made bright lights flash in front of his eyes. It tore at him like an evil demon, slicing into his soul with claws more painful than those tearing at his legs. He clawed the dirt, trying to pull himself along. Clothing tore, but the stone talons held him fast, working in deeper with each desperate movement.

The little sorcerer laughed, his eyes full of demonic fire as his gaze fell on the helpless knight. "Ye can't possibly feel such deep devotion to this naughty little princess. Why, she helped me in many a nasty prank when we were children." He turned back to her.

Karina stared wildly around, seeking an escape route. Seeing none, she tried to break past him anyway. Springing to one side, she darted forward a pace, but Leonado shot out his arm. Catching her around the waist, he hurled her back against the rock-face. Sharp stones dug into her back as the air whooshed from her lungs.

"No running away now, not when the fun's about to start. Ye may even enjoy it." He leered. "I know ye gave yourself willingly to the barbarian. Now 'tis my turn."

### "Let me go!" she cried, resuming her struggles. He silenced her with a hard slap across her face. The force of it jarred her jaw, and she saw stars behind her eyes. During her disorientation, he clamped his mouth over hers. His invasion filled her with revulsion. Thrusting his darting tongue into her mouth, he pressed his wiry body against hers, forcing her hard against the rock. She felt its coldness dig into her back, but it was nothing compared to the iciness Leonado's devouring mouth evoked.

### She heard Alecsis's screams of vengeance, and inside her mind she shrieked her answers. Help me Alecsis! Save me. Please! Please!

Leonado eventually withdrew his mouth from hers, and she managed a weak cry. "Lorenso! Do something." Despite the fear numbing her mind, she realized that she had already given up on Alecsis saving her from the evil creature pressing his cold hard body against hers. He looked nothing like the impish boy she remembered. His features were the same, but the demonic fire in his eyes counteracted any fond memories she might have had of him. She would never think of him the same way again.

"The old buzzard is too feeble to save you from the pleasure ye'll bring me. I be the strong one now. Yer father will reward me handsomely for bringing back Dorban's murderers. Only with the aid of magic could anyone get inside the castle. I shall tell your father Lorenso helped Alecsis kill his brother."

"He'll never believe you," she croaked. The continued press of his weight against her was making her lightheaded from lack of oxygen. For a small man, he possessed inhuman strength, but then he had the power of evil enchantments on his side.

"Oh yes he will, because my father shan't be there to defend himself. He'll be dead 'ere the night is through. As for your beloved knight, he'll go before the executioner as planned." The last words were spoken so softly, only Karina could hear them. "I was so looking forward to seeing his blonde head roll. I shan't be denied the opportunity twice."

Stepping back, he dragged her a few feet across the rocky ground, then hurled her down.

By the time she managed to catch her breath, Leonado had thrown off his red robe, and yanked down his breeches, his manhood swollen with need.

### "NO!" she screamed as he dropped to his knees, and straddled her. He began tugging off her garments. She managed to wriggle an arm free, and grabbed one of his many earrings. She yanked it from his lobe, a spurt of blood gushing forth in its wake. The young sorcerer howled, and Karina felt his weight lift as he clasped a hand over his ear. She scrambled back, but he caught hold of her boot. He was livid, the anger blazing in his eyes.

Within an instant he had thrown himself on her, and invaded her with a searing shot of pain that filled her with scalding coldness. She wailed like the undead spirits outside the camp, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Straining against the small, but powerful hands pressing hers to the ground, she fought desperately for escape. She soon discovered that he wouldn't let her go until he was through. What made it worse was that no one was going to save her. Through the haze of her tears, she saw Alecsis sprawled on the ground, his own face streaked with tears and dirt, his eyes wide and filled with horror.

The sight of his fists pounding the earth in helpless frustration made a new kind of pain spear through her. Alecsis wasn't quite as strong and brave as she'd thought. She clamped her eyes shut. This isn't happening. This can't be happening, she chanted over and over again inside her mind. And eventually she stopped feeling the agony tearing her up inside. A numbness settled over her body, turning her limbs into heavy lead weights.

Unable to tear his gaze from the two figures thrashing about on the ground, Alecsis felt Karina's pain as though it were his own. Every thrust felt like a hot poker boring into his body. He continued to struggle against his bonds, chunks of skin tearing from his legs, but he got no closer to Karina and her torturer.

Just when he thought he would never get the sight of her helpless beneath the demon brat out of his mind, a new image swam into focus. He saw a wood-paneled room with a row of square windows displaying a stormy sky, and when he turned his head he met the face of a man leaning over him.

The stranger had fair hair like himself. It was long and straight, falling almost to his waist, and his face had the same chiseled features that greeted Alecsis every time he peered into the looking glass. But this man's eyes were blue, the frigid blue of an early morning sky. These cold, uncaring eyes filled Alecsis with the same icy terror that had threatened to overwhelm him every time he tried to recall his life before Avion.

The image vanished as quickly as it had appeared, and Alecsis looked up at the night sky, his head spinning with confusion. The pale man had been real. Nothing imagined could elicit such mind-numbing terror. But who was he, and why had he appeared now when Alecsis had all but given up remembering anything about his past?

Alecsis saw Leonado stand up and nonchalantly slip his blood coloured robe back over his head. Karina lay slumped on the ground as though dead. For all Alecsis knew she could be, and a great wave of sorrow swept through him. Even if she lived, things would never be the same. Alecsis couldn't even begin to imagine how she would cope with what that evil wizard had done to her.

"Oh Karina," he sobbed, burying his tear-streaked face in the crock of his arm. "I've failed you."

"Yes you have, haven't you?" Leonado sneered. Alecsis knew he had come closer, but he couldn't bring himself to look up and see the smug satisfaction on his face.

"Nobody leave while I move onto the next part of my plan." Leonado laughed at his own pathetic joke. "The only one I'm freeing is my dear father. Aren't I generous?"

"Ye're naught more than a foul-minded bastard who likes to cause pain," Antano yelled, shaking an angry fist at him.

Leonado slowly turned to face the young soldier, who half lay and half sat on the rocky ground a few feet away from Alecsis. "I'm getting a strange jabbing pain right about here." He rubbed a beringed hand against his stomach. "Something to do with a poisoned arrow shot at me several weeks ago. Do ye know anything about it, Antano?"

The youth spat his contempt onto the ground. "I'll do it again given the chance."

Leonado slowly shook his head. "Such a shame it has to come to this. Ye're much too young to die. Oh well." Pointing at Antano, he began an incantation.

### "Leave him be," Lorenso shrieked, finally freeing his left hand from the clinging vine. He managed to counteract Leonado's spell, hitting him in the back with an energy blast that sent him stumbling forward. But he didn't fall. As he swung round, Lorenso disentangled himself from the other manacle, and worked on a spell of release for his feet.

"Oh, how clever of you! But I was going to set ye free myself. Alecsis was right, you see. I prefer to fight like a man. You and me, Lorenso, to the death," he asserted, jumping into the air. Then he vanished. "Catch me if you can," his voice echoed around the crags.

"Lorenso," Alecsis croaked. Lifting himself enough to raise an arm, he pointed a trembling finger at Karina. "Please help her."

"I know not how long I've got before he starts Serpon's work," the magician muttered, wringing his hands. "I should have done something sooner, much sooner. But he's become so powerful... so full of evil." He stopped beside the prone princess, and laid a gentle hand upon her brow. "She lives." Bending over her, he whispered a few words of healing. He glanced back at Alecsis. "I wish I could make her forget."

"Can't you?"

Lorenso merely shook his head, his dark eyes full of pain. "'Tis not within my power. I can only aid physical ailments. Now I must deal with that demon child of mine... I'm sorry Alecsis."

The torment in the old mage's face reflected the agony in Alecsis's heart. "Destroy him, Lorenso."

Lorenso closed his eyes, and took a deep, agonizing breath. "There has to be another way."

"Kill him," Antano repeated Alecsis's request. "There is no other way. Kill him or we all die."

### Lorenso walked slowly to the gap of their camp area. No there has to be another way, he repeated inside his mind. Muttering the same words of reversal he'd used to free himself, he released his friends of their bonds, the evilly-enchanted claws retreating back into the earth. How he wished it hadn't taken him so long to figure out how to reverse Leonado's earth-weaving spell. Had he realized it earlier, Karina would still be whole.

He ducked between the rocks into the darkness. The wind hit him with such force, for a moment he thought Leonado had already started his attack. Quickly casting a night-light spell, he saw nothing but hulking crags looming over him, blocking out the sky. No doubt Leonado had found himself a good vantage point, and Lorenso considered rendering himself invisible. No, let him come to me.

Clasping his cloak close, he began walking, grimacing against the wind's icy bite. The spirits shrieked so loudly now, Lorenso felt their pain rip through him. No doubt Leonado reveled in their agony. What made you like this, Leo? he asked himself. Who planted the seed of evil, and what made it germinate and grow? It didn't happen in the womb, of that I am certain. Neither your mother or I ever entertained a single dark thought. Whatever made you the way you are today must be reversible.

He reached another sheltered area of sorts, but this one was larger. The wind had eroded the rock to form a rough set of steps resembling a semi-circular amphitheatre. Perhaps this was where the spirits met to howl outrage at their fate, he thought, knowing instantly Leonado was hiding nearby.

"You can come out now," he yelled, his voice echoing eerily around the chasm.

"Are ye sure ye're ready for me?" he heard Leonado's voice echo back.

I'll see your arrogance vanquished if it's the last thing I ever do, Lorenso thought angrily. How dare you treat me and my friends with such contempt. "Death is too good for you, Leo. Unless, of course, I ensure yer soul joins those haunting this place."

The young man materialized on the highest step of the amphitheatre, some fifteen feet above Lorenso. "No, I won't die - not this night. I have the power of an old enemy of yours behind me."

"Of whom do ye speak, Leo?" Perhaps if he kept him talking, he might discover what had compelled Leonado to turn to the dark side.

"Ever heard of Dragonfire?"

Lorenso frowned, shaking his head. "Nay."

"He remembers you well, and wishes ye dead."

"So 'tis not you who's after my soul?"

Leonado gripped his head, his face contorting as though in pain. "Enough of this talk. Prepare to die," he shrieked.

"I'm yer father, Leonado. You don't want me dead, this Dragonfire does. Let me speak with him. Perhaps -"

"He hath no desire to speak to you." The young sorcerer lifted this hands to resume his incantation.

"Ye have a good vantage point there, Leo, but 'tis a long way to fall should anyone push you from behind." Unable to reason with words, Lorenso decided to counteract Leonado's spell with one of his own. Redirecting the wind was a relatively simple spell, and a sudden gust slammed into the young wizard. It had the desired effect. He tumbled from his perch, but he didn't land in a heap on the ground. He caught himself in mid-fall, and landed nimbly on both feet directly in front of Lorenso. He folded his arms nonchalantly. "Even as a child you courted trouble, Leonado. Now ye're knee deep in it. Who's Dragonfire?"

"My teacher in the dark arts."

Suddenly Lorenso knew he wasn't speaking to his son at all, but some demon in control of Leonado's mind. But how can I free him from the hold this creature had over him? he asked himself. "Why did ye kill Prince Dorban?" he persisted.

"Did I do that?" Leonado feigned innocence like an expert. No wonder he'd once been everyone's favourite, Lorenso thought, his lips curling in distaste.

### "Stop playing games, Leonado. 'Tis time for the truth. Why did ye do it?" he repeated, clenching his hands into fists. Makim, Makim, hear my prayer, he began to chant, silently calling to his own god. Come to me. Come to me. Help me save this child from evil.

Lorenso had never summoned the Goddess of Miracles before. There had been no need. The only time he had ever met Her Holiness was when his father had inducted him into the life-long apprenticeship of spell-binding. At sixteen, Lorenso had been awed by her beauty, her awesome power. He'd never done the same for Leonado. His son never passed the test of faith.

"I thought Sir Alecsis did it. Everyone says so," Leonado continued to goad.

### Obviously Lorenso wasn't going to get a straight answer out of him, not until his dark soul had been cleansed of this demon fiend, Dragonfire. Makim, Makim, hear my prayer. Come to me. Come to me. Help me release this child from evil. "But you and I know differently," he said out loud.

"Do we? Nobody can prove it."

"I will. I shall ensure ye pay for yer crime."

Leonado wriggled his taloned fingers, brewing up an incantation. "And how do ye propose to do that, Father dear, not when ye're about to lose your head." Thrusting both hands up into the air, he brought a lance plummeting down out of the sky. Lorenso ducked, and turned to see the razor-sharp weapon bounce off the rocks behind him and vanish as magically as it appeared. Another appeared to take its place, and once again Lorenso managed to jump out of the way in time.

Leonado soon tired of this spell. Waving his hands and chanting a new verse, he brought a volley of fire balls hurtling from the sky. Lorenso fended the strikes off, deflecting them with a mirror spell. They too disappeared on impact with the hard rocky ground.

Makim, Makim, hear my prayer. Come to me. Come to me. Help this child learn right from wrong.

"How long are ye going to stand there resisting my power? Is one little shove in the back the best ye can do?" This time he sent ice bolts the size of carving knives pelting from the sky. Several smashed into the ground. A few glanced against Lorenso's shoulders as he covered his head with his arms, drawing blood.

He began chanting out loud. "Makim, Makim, hear my prayer. Come to me. Come to me. Save this child from the dark side."

"Ha!" Leonado laughed. "So ye'll call upon your god to save yer useless hide. I should have known ye'd be too weak to face me on your own."

### Lorenso raised his hands into the air. Daggers of ice continued to fall, and he felt them slice his face and arms as they tumbled to the ground. "Makim, Makim, hear my prayer. Come to me. Come to me, if you want good to triumph over evil. I need you. NOW!"

He stared hopefully into the starlit sky. The tiny pin-pricks of light seemed to taunt him; we're still here, but your god is not. Would Leonado really prove himself the stronger one? Surely Makim would never let that happen. She must be able see how dangerous it was for the young man to be in possession of such powerful dark magic. Why had she not intervened before? Had she become too weak by the lack of true believers?

It cannot be so, Lorenso thought vehemently, and repeated his chant, ignoring the pain of the ice cuts. He would have to treat them later - if he got out of this alive.

### "Makim, Makim, hear my prayer..."

A faint glow resembling stardust appeared in the sky. It grew steadily brighter, taking on all the colours of the earth. Blues. Greens. Reds. Pinks, and a million variations thereof. They swirled in a kaleidoscope of brilliance. Lorenso had to look away; the light hurt his eyes. He saw that the shower of magic had even managed to move Leonado. He stood as still as a tree, face upturned, and hands hanging limply at his sides. For a moment he looked so much like the innocent child he'd once pretended to be, a knot of pain tied itself around Lorenso's heart.

The swirling colours in the sky split, leaving a bright white hole for Makim to appear. Her eternally beautiful face shimmered into existence in its centre. Her smooth, ageless skin was whiter than Alecsis's, but her eyes reflected the brilliant kaleidoscope that had proceeded her. A shining mantle of black hair swirled around her milky shoulders, and upon her head she wore a tiara encrusted with jewels. Every precious stone known to man glittered in her shimmering hair.

"I hear your plea, Lorenso... Oh, but you've aged so." Her soft, melodic voice was tinged with sadness. "Has it really been so long?"

"Aye, your Holiness. I have lived an entire life-span since we last met. Not once did I require your assistance. We have lived in relative peace... But times have changed, and I'm afeard the danger is my own son, Leonado." He extended a hand towards the gaping youth. Makim's brilliance seemed to have sapped all the colour from his multi-coloured hair, making it look almost gray under her guiding light. His face had turned pale and bloodless, his dark eyes wide with wonder.

"This is your god!" he gasped in awe, turning to his father. "A god ye sought to keep hidden from me."

Lorenso bit his lip. "Ye never showed you were worthy."

### "You asked too much!" he cried. "You were always asking too much. Why do ye suppose I left? I could never live up to your expectations."

For a moment Lorenso hesitated, but then he said, "You never even tried."

"I'm sure you didn't call me to witness this argument," Makim interrupted in her sweet, soothing voice. "I know of Leonado's problem, and I'm afraid part of it does stem from the way you treated him."

The old mage frowned. Was he to be punished instead of Leonado?

"Not all children respond to an iron hand. Some need a different kind of education. But enough of that. Tell me how you wish to right this wrong, Lorenso?"

"Banish him, oh mighty one. Send him somewhere where he'll learn humility and love. Remove the powers of the evil beast that binds him."

### "No!" Dragonfire cried, shaking Leonado's fist into the air. "You won't take this apprentice away from me!"

"Oh yes I will, Dragonfire. You brought your own entombment upon yourself, and that is where you'll stay for all eternity. Never again shall you prey upon the minds of the young and impressionable, for none remain in this land with the power you crave," Makim said.

For a moment she seemed to shrink, but it was only so more of her body could appear in the white portal of light that surrounded her. She was the epitome of womanly perfection. Her creamy breasts swelled above the bodice of her shimmering white gown, and every movement of her slender arms and hands was a dance of grace and beauty.

"Leonado. Until you learn to use the power of magic for what it was designed, to heal and help those in need, you shall not cast another spell." She pointed a slender finger, and Leonado let out a great shriek of agony.

Lorenso gasped when he saw the result of Makim's work. Both of the youth's forefingers had been severed. The digits lay in a bloody puddle on the ground in front of him, the outlet of his power thus cut from his body. He clasped his mutilated hands against his chest, whimpering incoherently.

"Now I will send you to a place that will heal your wounds, Leonado, but its walls are too high for escape. And even if you do leave, it is in a land far, far from here."

Leonado began to weep.

"The only way you'll regain the use of your magic is if you win your father's forgiveness. Now go!" She pointed at Leonado again, and his cowering form vanished in a blinding flash of light.

Lorenso stared in dismay at the severed digits. "I'm sorry, son. I wish it could have been different."

"So do I," Makim whispered from above. "But I do not doubt you'll meet again, and when you do, you will have the power to return his hands to normal, if you chose to do so. I will leave that decision up to you... In the meantime you have much to do. Your life is far from over. The young traveler, Alecsis, needs you. His destiny, and yours, are linked to The Crystal Fountain. The key is to unlock the door to his past, then to travel to his homeland. He has to go back. His people need him."

Lorenso stared up into her pale face, seeing concern and worry cloud her beautiful features. Things must be very grim indeed. If Makim knew of Alecsis and his people, then perhaps she also knew who he was. But Lorenso never got the opportunity to ask. Her image faded, the brilliant clouds of colour surrounding her trailing like streamers into the darkness.

"The Crystal Fountain," he murmured wearily. "What in the name of the gods could that be?"
FIFTEEN

HAUNTING MEMORIES

The first fingers of dawn-light stroking Karina's face woke her. Blinking against the sun's caress, she opened her eyes. As over the past few days, she was greeted by a clear blue sky peering back at her. She stretched and rolled over, colliding with the broad bulk of the individual sleeping beside her.

Lorenso is going to kill you, she thought on seeing Alecsis's sleeping face only inches from her own. Her movements hadn't disturbed him. He lay on his side facing her, his breathing shallow and uneven. Something was wrong. She felt cold and stiff, soon realising why. She had spent the night curled up on hard, rocky ground.

The reason for the wrongness hit her as she sat up. The memories of last night avalanched her mind, filling every pore, every fibre with terror and agony.

She had been raped by Leonado, and Alecsis hadn't done a thing to stop him!

The tears quickly followed, and she crouched there, letting the sobs rock her tormented heart. Physically she felt no pain, but in her mind she relived every horrifying moment. She remembered the helplessness, the humiliation of his domination. She meant nothing to him. She had merely been a vessel to assuge his lust and lord his power over her. Whatever affection he might have once felt for her had long since been corrupted and turned into contempt.

### Why didn't you stop him, Alecsis? Why?

Her silent plea woke him. He stirred beside her, rolling onto his back. Through her curtain of tears, she saw him grimace and stare up at her.

"Karina!" he gasped, sitting up. Again his face contorted as though he was in pain. Your torment is nothing compared to mine, she thought tearfully. Everything has changed, broken and shattered like a boot crushing a flower. "What is it? I thought Lorenso healed your injuries."

"He might have done. But he didn't heal my mind. 'Tis all still here. Every horrible moment of it." She jabbed the side of her head with an angry finger.

"I'm so sorry, my love," he whispered, reaching out to take her hand. She snatched it away.

### "Don't touch me!" she hissed. "I couldn't bear it, not after what he did to me."

He looked stricken, his green eyes as wide and troubled as a stormy sea. His mouth twisted with worry. "I only seek to comfort you, soothe the pain away. You know I'd never hurt you." He extended his hand to her again.

"Leave me alone. Just leave me alone." She scrambled to her feet and staggered across the desolate campsite.

### Alecsis watched her lower herself onto a boulder some five feet away, his heart twisting and churning with anxiety. For a moment the agony in his gouged legs was forgotten, as he stared at her rigid back. She can't even bear to let me touch her now.

### Karina's terse words woke the others, and Nira hurried to Karina's side, placing a comforting arm around her shoulders. That's all I was going to do, Alecsis thought dejectedly, offer my love and support, but he undrstood why she sought it elsewhere. She had depended on him to protect her... and he had failed her. It didn't matter that magic had prevented him from going to her aid. He should have been able to do something, anything to save her from Leonado.

He'd failed the one person he cared most about. Disgust and self pity rolled over him, as he watched Antano crawl towards him, his face drawn with worry.

"Give her time," the youth said. "She's had a traumatic experience. Any man will seem like the enemy."

Alecsis shook his head sadly. "Wise words, my young friend, but time is something I doubt we have much of."

Antano didn't answer, and Alecsis returned his gaze to the two women. Karina now leant limply against her maid, who rubbed her mistress's back with a comforting hand. Biting his lower lip, he turned away. If Nira could give her the comfort she needed, so be it, but Alecsis couldn't help feeling shut out and rejected.

Suddenly he realised that Lorenso was missing. How could we have all fallen asleep without finding out the result of his battle with his lunatic son? Because I took enough of the wizard's pain numbing potion to sink a warship, he answered himself, painfully aware that its effects had well and truly worn off. "Watch over them," he said. "I must seek out Renso."

It wasn't until he tried to get to his feet that he realised how badly he had been injured. Spears of utter agony lanced up his legs, making him giddy with pain.

"Sweet Lorin!" Antano gasped. "Your leggings. They're covered in blood."

For the first time Alecsis looked down. There were several large rents in the materiel through which blood had seeped, leaving great dark patches on his pants.

"Mayhap t'would be best if I went," Antano suggested, jumping to his feet.

"Nay. The girls need an able-bodied man to watch over them." He reached for Lorenso's healing satchel, fishing out the little pouch he'd used during the night. Only a few leaves of the herb remained. That will have to do, he thought, crushing them into his palm. "Pass me the water-flask."

Antano did as he was told. "Ye should be taking a healing potion instead."

"I'm sure those claws were evilly enchanted. I would have the same problem as I did with Darkfire's wound, shutting the poison in instead." He washed down the herbs with the water, and passed the water-flask to Antano. "Now help me up."

"But Alecsis - "

"Don't argue with me. Just do as I say. Give me that twig." He pointed to a small branch on the ground about a foot away. Antano handed it to him, and Alecsis placed it between his teeth. He would need something to gnash against if the pain of walking became unbearable. Then he slung the satchel over his shoulder, and extended a hand to Antano.

With a sigh the young man pulled Alecsis to his feet. The herbs had helped numb the pain a little, but Alecsis would have to take it slowly and carefully. He stopped, removing the twig. "I hope he's still alive." He turned to Antano still hovering at his side. "Why didst ye not wake me when I dropped off? We should have gone in search of him last night."

"I tried, but ye were well and truly under the influence. I thought of going on my own, but I was worried about the girls. Besides, if he'd been killed, we all would be dead by now."

"Perhaps that demented son of his is simply biding his time, waiting until I find Lorenso's remains to exact his revenge on the rest of us... If I fail to return within the hour, saddle the horses and get out of here. Do not follow me."

"But Alecsis - "

### "I mean it," Alecsis insisted. "Retrieve The Holy Avenger and take the girls home."

"But we're all fugitives now."

"Ye're a resourceful young man. Ye'll think of something." He stuck the piece of dead tree back between his teeth and resumed walking. Antano did not follow, but of the corner of his eye Alecsis saw the way he stared after him, a single line of worry marking his young brow.

Alecsis trudged through the looming crags. Each step was a spear of agony, and he had to stop often to lean against a convenient rock-face. The early morning sunshine failed to warm him, and the gusty wind bit through his clothes, making him wish he'd kept his cloak on.

He finally reached the amphitheatre, spotting the wizard straight away. Lorenso lay curled up on the first step on the other side of the circular rock formation. Biting hard on his stick, Alecsis hobbled towards him, hoping beyond hope that he had merely fallen asleep. He could see no sign of Leonado, but he kept glancing around in case he was hiding in some convenient alcove. About half way across, he saw a bright red patch on the ground. Blood? He leaned closer to examine the stain. It could be nothing else. But whose?

By the time he reached Lorenso, his legs were unable to support him, and Alecsis collapsed on the rocky step beside the wizard. He spat out the twig, and taking deep breaths, worked the pain down to a bearable level. When he thought he could cope with discovering what kind of state Lorenso was in, Alecsis gently touched his slender shoulder.

The mage jumped up at once, his eyes darting around wildly.

"You're alive!" Alecsis breathed in relief.

"Of course I'm alive. Do ye honestly think I'd let a child defeat me?"

"He's dead then?" Alecsis asked hopefully.

"No. No. It never came to that. But it will be a long time afore any of us see him again - if ever." He patted the small leather pouch attached to his weapons' belt, his expression strangely devoid of emotion. "I have his power right here, preserved under an out-of-time spell. If he wants it back, he has to come to me. See that patch of blood." He motioned towards the stain Alecsis had examined earlier. The young man nodded. "I called on Makim - "

"Ye summoned your god! Why did we not hear or see anything?"

"She only reveals herself to those she believes are worthy. But she spoke of you."

Alecsis's eyes widened. "Makim knows my name?"

"Aye. It seems she knows your destiny. But more of that later. A magician is severely disabled without what?" he prompted.

Alecsis shook his head. "Now you talk in riddles."

Lorenso wriggled his hands, and then jabbed Alecsis in the chest with a sharp nail. "Makim took both his magic fingers. Without them Leonado is disabled... and in some monastery in the middle of nowhere with fifty feet high walls. That boy will learn his lesson well there, do you not think?"

"Are ye sure that's where she sent him?" Alecsis asked.

"Where else would a god send a wayward follower? Now all we have to work out is how to get your memory back."

Alecsis stared at him for a moment, wondering why his memory was suddenly so important to Lorenso, when he'd never been particularly interested in it before. "My memory can wait. What I really need right now is some more of that special healing potion, and your powerful spell-binding. My legs are killing me, and it has naught to do with too tight lacings." He indicated towards his blood-soaked leggings.

Lorenso looked down. "Oh my!" he gasped. "How did ye manage that?"

"Struggling against the stone claws, trying to save Karina." He dumped the healing satchel in the wizard's lap. I would give anything to turn back time, he thought miserably. But of course that was impossible. Not even Lorenso had the power to reverse deeds already committed.

"How is she this morning?" Lorenso asked, as he began rummaging through the bag.

"I doubt she'll ever be the same again," Alecsis said, lowering his gaze. "She blames me for failing to save her." He looked back up, meeting the old magician's eyes, his own deep pools of torment.

Lorenso reached out and placed his gnarled hand over Alecsis's. "How could you? Ye were bound by his evil magic."

Alecsis draw his hand from under Lorenso's, and clasped them to his face. "But I should have been able to do something," he muttered through his fingers.

"There was naught you could do. Believe me. Some things are beyond the power of the sword."

### Alecsis slapped his thighs hard. "But he raped Karina, raped her!"

"She'll heal. It will take time, but if you cherish her as you have always done, she'll come through. Now let me tend your legs. It will mean having to remove your boots."

Alecsis pulled a face. "I was hoping it wouldn't come to that."

Nira continued to sit beside Karina while Antano went to retrieve Alecsis's enchanted sword. From her vantage point, she could see it stuck between two boulders, its blade shining brightly in the early morning sunlight. As she watched the young man scramble down the rocky embankment, she mulled over recent events, trying to work the dazed feeling from her mind. Everything had happened so quickly, she felt as though she was being swept along by a giant tidal wave. But mostly her heart ached for her mistress.

Nira understood how Karina felt. She supposed all women did. Alecsis might think her a tart, but Nira had endured numerous unwanted advances. Rather than trying to fend the drunken louts off, she had put up with their physical possession of her, not wanting to end up battered and bruised, or worse still, bashed to death. She should have told Karina not to fight the young wizard, but in her terror, her voice had deserted her. Alecsis had done enough screaming for everyone.

After last night she'd revised her opinion of him. She now understood Karina's love, Antano's devotion, and Lorenso's respect. Alecsis had been prepared to risk his life for them all. His anguished sobs still echoed inside Nira's head. Karina hadn't even noticed his blood-soaked trousers, but Nira was certain he would walk beyond endurance in search of Lorenso.

No longer did she see him as a stone-faced warrior. Since coming across the two men bathing in the creek, she had seen a myriad of emotions cross his features.

Nira had to smile at the memory of that afternoon. Antano certainly proved himself to be the shy yet tender lover she had envisaged. So few men took the time to pleasure their partner. Antano, despite his uncertainty, hadn't ignored her needs. Now she wondered if Alecsis had something to do with his considerate nature. He hadn't become the leader of King Rostan's army through ruthlessness and cunning. He had earned the monarch's respect in the same way he'd impressed her with his concern for their safety.

And now Karina had turned her back on him, rejecting his attempts to comfort and console. She didn't even seem to notice Nira sitting patiently beside her. She stared blankly ahead of her with glazed eyes.

"Come, come Karina. Remember ye're the strong one," Nira said softly, gently touching her mistress's arm. "Don' let me down now."

She shook Nira's hand off. "Alecsis is the one who's let us down." Her face twisted, her words harsh and biting. "Big brave warrior with an enchanted sword, and he couldn't even defend me against - "

"How can ye say such a thing?" Nira gasped, seeing Antano reach for the aforementioned weapon. He picked up the sword, and looked up at them with a grin. Nira couldn't bring herself to smile back. She returned her attention to Karina. "I thought ye loved him."

### "I did... I do. But I feel as though he's abandoned me, left me lost and floundering." Antano turned and began retracing his steps, The Holy Avenger now sheathed in his sword belt. "As soon as Antano returns I'm going to ask him to take us back."

"Alecsis said to wait an hour."

Karina shook her head. "He won't be back. How could he face us again without Lorenso?"

"Lorenso might still be alive. I'm waiting the allotted time with Tano." She stood up, suddenly angry. "What could Alecsis do bound to the ground by Leonado's magic? What could any of us do? Tell me that!"

Karina's silence was answer enough. Returning to the camp, Nira sat down in front of the fireplace and picked up a piece of their discarded dinner. Even though it was cold and covered in dust, she brushed it off and took a bite. It would have to do.

Antano joined her a few minutes later, and she passed a piece to him.

"Karina should eat something too," he said, motioning to her still sitting on her rock.

"Leave her for now. Nothing I say or do seems to make a difference."

Antano frowned. "She's taking it badly?"

"Very. But 'tis Sir Alecsis who'll suffer for it. They'll both need our support."

The pair fell silent, and sat waiting for Alecsis's return. The hour soon passed, but Antano was reluctant to leave. "Let's give him another," he said.

Nira glanced across at Karina, but she hadn't moved. She continued to sit there like a statue, as still and silent as the rocks around them. "All right," she agreed.

They eventually heard the sound of footsteps scaping on the rocky ground when the sun reached the middle of the sky. Both glanced up. Lorenso was walking slowly towards them.

Antano jumped to his feet. "Where be Alecsis?"

"Resting. Like that time we treated Darkfire's wound, he needs sleep to recover," Lorenso answered. "He'll be all right."

"And you?"

The mage spread his hands. "As ye can see, I'm still in one piece."

"Ye killed the fiend then?" Antano went on.

Lorenso shook his head. "Nay, but he shan't bother us again."

Antano placed his hands on his hips. "Where is he if you didn't kill him?"

"Disabled and banished." He told them about Makim and what she had done to him.

"What were you thinking? Ye should have asked her to kill him," Antano insisted, clenching his hands into fists in front of him.

"Where's your humanity, boy?"

"Where's Leonado's? He murdered Prince Dorban. He raped Karina, and what kind of havoc did he reap with the pirates' help? He should have been destroyed."

"I agree," Karina shouted, springing up off her rock. She hurried towards them, her face streaked with tears. "Why in Makim's name didn't you kill the monster?"

"That is what I'm trying to explain - "

"You couldn't do it because he's your son," Karina spat.

"Yes, that I will admit to."

Karina turned away in disgust, but Lorenso continued to address the rest of the group. "Leonado needs to learn how to love, how to be humble. Destroying him wouldn't have given him the opportunity to redeem himself, and I believe he's redeemable. He was being controlled by an evil being. Not that I see that as an excuse for his behaviour. If he hadn't been so weak in the first place, this creature would never have been able to influence him... He will suffer. Have no doubt about that. Living without the ability to spell-bind would be a fate worse than death for someone like him. In the company of monks, he'll come to realise what he hath done was wrong."

"Makim sent him to a monastery?" Antano asked, wide eyed. "That would definitely be a fate worse than death to him."

"So ye understand why I did what I did?"

"Aye," Antano murmured eventually, and Nira nodded.

Karina kept her back to them, saying nothing. The deed was done. No matter how he had been disposed of, the memory of what he did to her would haunt her till the day she died. Unless...

"Lorenso, can you make me forget?" she asked, spinning around. "Cast a spell over me to erase what he did from my mind?"

A shadow crossed his face as he turned towards her. "I wish that I could," he murmured.

"What do ye mean, you wish? Ye're a wizard. You can heal horrendous wounds. Why can't ye heal those inflicted upon the mind?"

Lorenso chose his words carefully, not wanting to cause her any more grief. "Leonado's power is different to mine."

"I don't understand."

"I have little control over dark magic. I never studied it. I healed you physically, but to erase the incident... that I cannot do... It isn't within my power." He became contemplative. "In fact I don't know a single spell to aid the sicknesses of the mind. I don't believe any mage can."

Karian's shoulders slumped in defeat. Everything had changed. Her life as a princess was over, but what did the future hold? At the moment it looked dismal and dark, full of frightening shadows. With a frustrated sigh, she collapsed onto her sleeping robe. Wrapping her arms around her bent knees, she asked, "So what happens now?"

"We wait for Alecsis to return, then plan our next move," Lorenso answered as gently as he could.

The images of the man who looked like him returned to Alecsis as he slept. Like before, the stranger leant over him in that wood-paneled room, his ice-blue eyes chilling him with their contempt. He felt the bed move beneath him, the motion making him feel queasy.

Somehow Alecsis knew he was was on board the ship that had brought him across the Noiva, but who was this grim-faced man who looked at him with such hatred? And why do I feel such heart-wrenching misery?

The images shifted and changed, pitched and rolled, and light exploded into another darkened room with a resounding crash. It was some kind of storage chamber where he'd made a bed amongst discarded ropes and mats. The door had been flung open by the wind, and Alecsis saw men rushing past, their shouts lost to the tempest.

He stumbled outside. Angry black clouds churned across the sky. Lightning spat jagged white streaks into the foaming water. Thunder roared its outrage. Huge waves towered over the ship, soaking the terrified men as they battened down.

Some lost their footing and were swept overboard. As he skidded forward, Alecsis managed to clutch hold of the railing. He watched the men flounder, their pleas for help lost in the ocean's deadly roar. He saw a pale head disappear and not surface again. They must have displeased their god once too often, he thought, as he clung to the wooden rail, his body chilled through from the icy sea-spray.

That didn't save him, of course. The sudden agonising thump against the back of his head forced his fingers from the rail, and the next wave that assaulted the vessel shoved him into the churning ocean.

As he fought to stay afloat, he looked up to see the stricken ship pitch so far to one side, he thought that would be the end of it. At that moment a stream of white light arched out of the sky to save it and set it back on course. Alecsis saw a figure materialise in the very spot he'd been standing, a young man with multi-coloured hair, wearing a blood red robe. He turned to stare down into the swirling water, and his dark eyes fell on Alecsis floundering in the waves. Smiling, he turned away, leaving the young sailor to his fate.

Alecsis jerked awake, and found himself sitting on a cold stone slab, bright afternoon sunshine streaming down on him. His breath came in short, sharp gasps, and he clasped trembling hands over his mouth, realising that he had been about to scream.

"By the Gods, that really happened," he gasped, managing to keep the nausea down. Leonado had saved the ship he'd been travelling on, no doubt intent on using it for his own dioblical purposes.

This could only mean one thing; it was still anchored offshore somewhere.

Lorenso had been right. The key to the future lay in the past. In order to go forward he had to travel back. He had to find out who he was and where he had come from.
SIXTEEN

THE SPIRIT WORLD

### Krystos had come to the conclusion some hours ago that Leonado wasn't coming back. This didn't concern him unduly. It would have happened sooner or later. What did make him stomp and curse obscenities, was that he'd left without telling him how to reverse the invisibility spell on The Crystal Rose, or the route home, but perhaps he never even knew the way across the Noiva.

"I can't bear to be stranded in this primitive land for the rest of my life," he raged, pacing around his small campsite like a caged dragon. Nestled in a small alcove of rocks, it provided protection against the biting wind, but Krystos could cope with the cold. He came from a country that was covered in snow and ice half the year. Homesickness for the familiar winter's chill gnawed at his heart.

### No doubt his withdrawl from Darkfire probably also had something to do with his restlessness. At first he'd craved the thrill only Darkfire could give him, but it only took him a few days to get over it. He no longer yearned for its power. Yet he was still determined to retrieve it from the ocean cave where he'd placed it as Moreshe; he didn't want Leonado or his dark master to have it either. Strange how Leonado never spoke of it again after he'd asked Krystos to hide it. Did they have no more use for it, as they no longer seemed to require Krystos?

"Well, Leo, I might not be able to follow you, but I do have the ability to keep track of your whereabouts." He folded up his bedroll and sat cross-legged upon it. "Time for some astral travelling," he muttered. "Must stop talking to myself when I'm alone. Don't know who might be listening."

Those cursed spirits had kept him awake most of the night with their howls and shrieks. It was possible that they could also hear him, but somehow he doubted it. They seemed too preoccupied with their own pain to worry about anything else. What were they? he asked himself for perhaps the fiftieth time, knowing he couldn't bear to spend another night in their company.

Closing his eyes, he concentrated on working the anger from his body. Unclenching his fists he let his big, calloused hands collapse into his lap. Visualising a serene stream, he saw himself floating in it, the gentle waves lapping at his ears. In his mind he wasn't the ugly Moreshe, but Krystos, the clever, handsome man he'd grown into.

Even after all this time Krystos had no trouble remembering his own features. But today another man's face superimposed itself over his own, one that had become equally as handsome as he grew into manhood. It almost threw Krystos from his path, and he had to try a different image to relax. He conjured up a calm ocean with soaring gulls, and he soon slid free of his cumbersome form.

He didn't even bother to look back down at it. Discovery beckoned, and he was soon gliding over the desolate landscape that reeked of death and destruction, but nowhere did he catch sight of the elusive Leonado. Had the nasty little snake led him to believe he was travelling east, only to turn around and head west? Perhaps he hadn't been after his father at all. Or maybe, just maybe, Lorenso had defeated him. If Leonado hadn't met with difficulties he would have returned for his glass sphere. Krystos had little use for it. Even though he'd watched Leonado use it numerous times, Krystos could find out what was going on many leagues away simply by thinking about it.

Krystos's spirit travelled higher, trying to see where this horrible place ended, if it ended at all. It seemed to grow into a peak, rising to a jagged point some hundred yards ahead. Shapes shifted and change in the fog at the top of the mountain. As Krystos drew closer he realised they were people wreaked with pain.

So this was where the moans and shrieks emanated from. He suspected the only reason he could see them was because he was in spirit form himself. Macabre curiosity propelled him closer. The beauty of astral travelling was that he merely had to think about where he wanted to go, and he moved easily in that direction.

### Hundreds of creatures covered the mountain top in a deathly mantle. Some were splattered with blood. Others missed vital body parts. A few seemed to have survived with slit throats. Others had limbs twisted at odd angles, but most looked emaciated and on the verge of death. It didn't take Krystos long to realise that they were dead; perpetually caught in the throes of whatever ailment or injury had ended their lives.

The sight of so much torment made Krystos's spirit shudder. He felt it tremor all the way back to his physical self. He'd witnessed a great deal of suffering in his young life, inflicting some of it himself, but this perpetual - eternal agony even had him cringing in horrified disgust.

Suddenly one of the spirits broke from the main group, and started hobbling on gangrenous legs towards him. An elderly man, his eyes were clouded with pain. Why was he trying to walk? Krystos asked himself. He soon realised why. He could see Krystos, which made him wonder whose physical form he assumed as he travelled through the air; the ugly soldier from King Rostan's Court or his own handsome self?

The old man slowly extended a trembling hand, as clear and solid as Krystos's own when he wasn't in spirit form. "He-elp me!" he croaked feebly.

"How can I help ye, old man?" Krystos asked harshly, hiding his macabre wonderment under a cloak of coldness.

"End this agony."

"Why do ye ask me?"

"Be- because ye- ye're a meh- messenger from Serpon."

"Serpon sent you here?"

"Who else?" he gritted out.

"Then ye must have done something to displease him. Ye're here as punishment. Is that not right?"

"Foh- for five years, may- mayhap more. Here time has little meaning. Could- could you stand five years of constant agony?" His face expressed his torment in intimate detail, and something within Krystos responded. No, he could never bear five years of continuous pain.

So Leonado's God was behind all these peoples' suffering. This could only mean one thing; Serpon was real - in this land at least. In Krystos's homeland only Roseana, the Goddess of The Crystal Fountain was worshiped. She was both the keeper of good and evil, her role to maintain a natural balance between the two. Until now Krystos hadn't believed in any deity. Now he wondered if gods were more than the construct of weak and searching minds.

He had no intention of staying to find out, not wanting to end up like these poor, tortured souls stuck forever in this horrid, barren place. As a spirit he could move with lightning speed, and was soon soaring across the rocky wilderness back to his physical form. The old man called pitifully after him, but Krystos had seen and heard enough.

A few moments later he sat trembling on his bedroll, his fists clenched tightly against his chest. The realisation that Serpon was real, that He had created this Hell, terrified Krystos. What had these spirits done to displease him, and how did one ensure it never happened to them?

Somehow he had to find the way home, with or without Leonado.

### Of course! The answer came with blinding clarity. The flamboyant little wizard's father would know how the unlock the invisibility spell cast over The Crystal Rose. Krystos was reluctant to do it again so soon, but he set off in spirit form once more, seeking the elusive magician's parent. If Leonado couldn't be found, it must mean his father had defeated him. This could work to my advantage, Krystos thought, his devious mind already concocting a plan of action.

This time he gave the jagged mountain peak a wide birth. He seemed to be searching for an eternity, but time had littile meaning whilst in astral form. He could have been looking for minutes - or hours. Nothing but rocks and stunted bushes covered the rolling hillsides.

He eventually reached the lush green farming lands that dominated southern Avion. In the distance he saw a town and a square stone castle on the hill overlooking it. Troops were marshalling within its walls, and Krystos drew closer to find out the nature of their mission.

They were after Alecsis, Lorenso and the pretty, dark-eyed Antano. So Leonado had managed to kill Prince Dorban. Krystos never doubted him for a minute, but where on earth was the bejewelled little weasel now?

Slowly he retreated, returning the way he had come, soaring high above the land on invisible wings. When he was about to give up his search, he saw them. They numbered five, not three, and he drew closer to find out who the others were. Women! Why would they be travelling with women? Wouldn't they slow them down with their whining and incessant female problems?

He hovered longest above Alecsis, as he led his horse carefully over the rocky ground at the head of the group. The ex-knight looked drawn and worried. Having the king's army after you instead of leading it, must be so degrading, Krystos thought. Oh poor Alecsis, he commiserated slyly. Your life has been one great hardship after another. Well, that's the price you pay for taking what should have been mine!

Alecsis was suddenly overcome with the sensation of being watched. He stopped, scanning the surrounding area for possible hiding places. There were literally hundreds among the jutting crags, and the uneasiness churning his stomach grew.

"What is it?" Lorenso whispered, drawing to a halt beside him.

"I sense... a presence," he answered.

The wizard was quick to cast a searching spell, projecting his gaze up into the sky to survey the surrounding area.

As Alecsis stood nervously beside him, another image from the past ambushed his mind. Like before it came out of nowhere, hitting him like a slap across the face.

Once again he found himself aboad the sailing ship which had brought him across the Noiva, but this time he was outside. Crouched on the deck under a blistering sun, he was swabbing down the wooden boards. From the ache in his arms, he knew he had been at it for some time. The intricate network of rigging screeched and rattled as the wind hurtled them across the ocean.

He glanced down at himself, seeing a thin, almost emaciated chest. His slender arms and legs looked like they belonged to someone no older than thirteen or fourteen. How long had their journey really taken? He had been at least sixteen when he arrived on Avion's shores.

He couldn't understand why he was working without a shirt. The other sailors wandering around him, dirtying the area he'd already scrubbed, were clad in crisp white shirts tucked into navy cotton breeches. Even their heads were covered, protecting them from the midday glare.

But Alecsis laboured without head or chest covering. Neither did he possess a pair of boots. All he wore was a pair of old breeches that had lost their true colour long ago.

"Get back to work, you lazy brat," a harsh voice boomed from above him. It was quickly followed by a sharp kick in the ribs. Alecsis cried out as it collided with a healing bruise.

Whimpering in pain, Alecsis glanced up. The tall, blonde man with the icy blue eyes stared down at him, his hard face an angry mask. By simply staring up into his flinty gaze, Alecsis knew his life abroad this ship had been one of misery and hardship. He struggled to banish the memory. It felt like trying to swim through seaweed, slow and laborious, but eventually he surfaced, finding himself back in the arid Sirmon Ranges.

He turned to Lorenso. The old magician stared back at him, his eyes dark with concern. "No one is watching us, no one in human form at least," he said.

"What do ye mean?" Alecsis asked, his mind still foggy from the struggle to return to the present.

"It could have been one of the spirits of the mountain, straying further afield. Ye've had another flashback, haven't ye?"

Alecsis nodded. He had told Lorenso about the earlier two visions, and the wizard agreed that they should return to the Pavlo Inlet and find out what had happened to the pirate ship. They no longer had a home, so what did they have to lose now that both Krystos and Leonado were gone? Now that Alecsis had started remembering snippets from his past, Lorenso was adamant he continue nurturing the memories.

"T'was terrible," Alecsis murmured, suppressing a shudder. "I was given the hardest jobs of all, and beaten when I grew tied. That man was a cruel and vindictive master, tainted with the same brush as Krystos..."

"He's gone now," Lorenso reassured him, placing a comforting hand against Alecsis's shoulder. "You said ye saw him drown."

Alecsis exhaled heavily. "I thought I did. I hope I did."

"Is everything all right?" Antano asked, having caught up with them. The women remained together. Nira watched their interchange, her face grave, but Karina kept her eyes averted as she stood stroking her horse's neck.

"Aye," Lorenso answered. "Alecsis seems besieged with memories today. It isn't easy for him to remember times gone by, particularly when they were fraught with difficulty."

"I do not know how I would cope with losing my memory, and then having it return little by little. It must seem like piecing together a puzzle," Antano said gravely.

"'Tis precisely how it feels," Alecsis agreed.

A shadow passed across the sun, dimming their surroundings as though a candle had been snuffed out. Alecsis glanced up, seeing a mass of thunderheads approaching.

"I have a tent," Lorenso said, patting his back-pack. "With the aid of enchantment it should be large enough for five."

"By the looks of that, we'll need sturdier protection than canvas," Antano muttered, motioning upwards. "It looks positively evil. Are you sure ye sent yer son to a monastery? Those clouds look very much like something he would summon."

"Nay, they be nature formed and fed," Lorenso answered. "I sense no dark meddling." A sudden burst of thunder made everyone jump. A bright flash of lightning followed, streaking angrily across the massing sky. "And ye're right about the tent. Let's see if we can find a cave or overhanging rock to shelter under."

They set off again, this time with Lorenso leading the group. Alecsis walked close behind, his mind in as great a turmoil as the churning sky. Why was his memory returning now, and in such jagged, puzzling fragments?

### It had something to do with the ship. No, it had everything to do with the ship. But where was he supposed to take her? After his last flashback he very much doubted he'd be able to sail it anywhere. The intricate network of pulleys and winches that controlled the sails looked like they required at least fifty men to operate them. Krystos's crew had been about three dozen strong. Was he meant to gather another army and sail back from whence he had come? Was that what his flashes of memory were telling him? And what about Karina? Was he meant to take her too?

He glanced over his shoulder at her. Head downcast, she plodded along, her shoulders slumping under a cloak of misery. He should have made Antano take her and Nira back to Braythe. But Lorenso, being able to see great distances with his magically enhanced vision, had insisted there were too many troops about. They were likely to kill first and ask questions later.

Before Leonado had violated Karina, Alecsis was happy to have her by his side. He'd longed and dreamt of it, but now that her heart was so full of unhappiness, he suspected the only place she wanted to be was in her safe, comfortable tower.

More thunder roared. Lightning followed in its wake, stabbing the sky with sharp forks of light. But still the rain held off, hanging in heavy black clouds that thrashed like restless demons. The wind, which had eased during the middle of the day, returned with biting fierceness, threatening to tear the cloaks from their backs and their hair from its roots.

"We're fortunate tonight," Lorenso cried, pointing into the gloom. True to his assertion, centuries of erosion had weathered a substantial overhang into an enormous rock. There would even be enough room for the horses to shelter under it with them.

"I hope it doesn't cave in while we are under it," Antano remarked. "It looks rather precarious."

"If it does then all our worries shall be over," Alecsis answered.

"Alecsis, the eternal optimist," Antano said with a nervous laugh.

Large cold drops of rain began to splash onto the dry, dusty earth as the last person led their mount under the rock. Even though there was nowhere to tether the horses, they possessed enough sense to stay out of the rain. It grew heavier as the weary travellers collapsed onto their bedrolls. Unfortunately the wind drove some of the water into their shelter, wetting the unfortunate horses huddled together under the higher section of rock.

The humans, however, remained dry, but their stomachs stayed empty as it continued to rain into the night. Darkness came early, and the only light in their dismal stone cavern came from the nightstones Antano placed in a pile near their feet. Lorenso stood all their drinking flasks outside to capture the rain. At least they wouldn't be short of water.

Sleep didn't come easy for any of them. Hunger gnawed, keeping them awake. They didn't hear the spirits' eerie shrieks tonight; the noise of the driving rain drowned them out. When they did sleep, it was fitful and full of bad dreams.

For a long time Alecsis lay awake, listening to the others, well aware of who was asleep and who wasn't. When Karina started to whimper, he longed to rush to her side and comfort her, but Lorenso and Antano lay between them. The nightstones still lit the cave, and he sat up to stare across the sleeping men at her.

Her mewing noises stopped, and she rolled over, her back facing him. Oh, Karina, he thought, I love you so. Don't shut me out. I would never hurt you. If it means never sharing pleasures of the flesh then so be it. I can survive without it. I did until now. All I want is your forgiveness, to show you I still care. If I ever see that monster again, I will kill him no matter what Lorenso says. Tear his heart out and ram it down his throat. No man should be allowed to do something like that to another human being and get away with it.

Bide your time, Alecsis, he told himself, repeating Antano's words. She needs to come to terms with it in her own way.

But it hurts. It damn well hurts! He clenched his hands into fists, feeling very much like hitting something, but as rock didn't yield to vulnerable flesh and bone, he refrained.

Taking a few calming breaths, he lay back down, staring dismally into the gloom.

He must have fallen asleep, because the images from the past slid into his mind like wisps of ether on the wind. He was back in the large wood-panelled room, which he now knew to be the captain's cabin. He lay naked on the big bed, and his nemesis leant over him, but this time Alecsis couldn't see his face. His long straight hair fell forward, obscured his expression from view. He seemed to be rubbing some kind of balm into Alecsis's sunburned chest. It felt cool and soothing, but Alecsis couldn't relax. Something was about to happen, and even though his conscious mind couldn't grasp what it might be, his subconscious knew.

And it terrified him.

The blonde man rolled him over, starting the same treatment on his back. His hands felt so big, so strong, and Alecsis knew this memory dated back to when he had been a scrawny youth with wasted arms and legs from the meagre scraps that occasionally came his way. The tall man ate well, however. Alecsis could see how healthy he was from the sinewy forearms and strong, capable hands that stroked his quivering flesh.

I hate you, he thought. And I hate what you do to me.

What does he do? What do I hate?

The strong, work-roughened hands slid lower, caressing Alecsis's naked buttocks, and then slipped between his legs. The youth wanted to scream, run, fight back, but he had been beaten into submission often enough to know it wouldn't hurt so much if he lay still.

He didn't need to turn and look up to know that the blonde man was removing his clothes. He heard them drop one by one onto the floor. The bed depressed as he climbed back on it, this time positioning himself between Alecsis's legs.

Alecsis choked back a sob. Pretend it isn't happening, he told himself.

It didn't work. It never worked.

The pain speared through his slender body with each violent thrust. What excited his enemy tortured Alecsis to the core of his being. While the other man sighed with pleasure, Alecsis whimpered in pain.

He came out of his nightmare with a scream lodged in his throat. He shivered and trembled, tears stinging his eyes. No wonder he had closed his mind to the memories. The pain and humiliation had been too great, too degrading for a youth on the verge of manhood to cope with.

He should have been glad the bastard had drowned, but it felt as though it was happening all over again, the wound reopened, raw and festering.

Now he knew why he had been so reluctant to enter a physical relationship with Karina. His subconscious had been reminding him of those cruel hands that caressed him one minute, and beat him the next. Even though he had derived great pleasure from making love to Karina, Alecsis wondered if he could ever do it again. The tremors of revulsion continued to pulse though him as he sat there in the dimly lit cave.

He knew all too well how Karina now felt, and it shamed him - shamed him to the core.

"What is it?" a soft voice penetrated his spiralling misery. "Alecsis, why do ye cry?"

He stared through the haze of tears into the worried face of his friend.

"'Tis another memory, isn't it?" Antano asked.

He nodded, sniffing. "Oh sweet Lorin! How could she have allowed such cruelty to persist?"

Antano laid a gentle hand against his forearm. "What cruelty? Tell me, Alecsis."

"I cannot," he muttered, seeing that Lorenso has also woken. He lay wrapped in his bedroll, staring with wise eyes up at him. He knows, Alecsis thought. He knows what I endured, and as with Karina, he's helpless to make the pain go away.

Karina! He stared past Lorenso to her spot, but she slept on. So did her maid.

"I won't go back," Alecsis stated. "I refuse to set foot on board that ship. It's contaminated with evil. It - "

"You must," Lorenso insisted, rolling onto one elbow.

"Why? Dammit! Tell me."

Lorenso sighed, knowing Alecsis wasn't ready for this. "Makim told me that yer destiny lies with The Crystal Fountain. I heard ye use the word before. Clear as crystal ye said."

"That I did," Alecsis asnwered, remembering the moment clearly. "The Crystal Fountain?" he mused. "I know the words, but not what they refer to."

Lorenso shook his head. "I don't know what it means either, but Makim told me that ye must return there. 'Tis somewhere in your homeland. Yer people need you, the goddess said."

"My people?" Alecsis's eyebrows shot up. "Are they in danger?"

"Mayhap," Lorenso said, remembered Makim's concerened expression. Something was amiss on the other side of the Noiva.

"Who am I to them? Why did she not explain?" Alecsis demanded in frustration.

"That is what we must discover for ourselves. As far as I can see, the only way across the Noiva is by that ship. Nothing we construct hath the strength and power to sustain a long sea journey. Everyone who ever set out to discover what lies on the other side of the ocean has perished, their wreckage washed up on the shore... Ye did it once. Ye can do it again."

"I didn't sail that vessel. Over fifty sailors did, each with a specific job to do. I was just a deck-boy, a nobody, someone to abuse and kick around... My destiny lies on Avion, not some distant land I have long since forgotten. Why else did the sea creatures save me and bring me to Avion? My job should be to find that dammed ship and destroy it, set it alight and watch it sink into oblivion," he insisted, but all of a sudden his reason for being here seemed more elusive than ever. He had become an outcast, a hunted fugitive. He spread his hands helplessly, and his voice dropped to a barely audible whisper. "All my memories are linked to that cursed ship, but nothing of the place I came from. I remember the language, and a few religious songs, but nought more."

"T'will come," Lorenso tried to reassure him. "You survived so ye can return to The Crystal Fountain. Yer future lies across the Noiva. We'll find a way. If my son could save that ship from sinking, I'm sure I can work out how to sail it."

Alecsis sighed, knowing he was right - as usual. "So ye'll come with me then?"

"Makim said I must," he reassured him.

"Does that include me?" Antano asked uncertainly.

Alecsis clasped the slender hand still resting against his arm. "That definitely includes you. But I don't know about them." He nodded in the direction of the sleeping women.

"I know I was against them joining us, but I think we should leave that decision up to them. I'm sure we could convince some kind family to take them in. With the aid of magic I could disguise their true identity, but I suspect Karina will not leave you, Alecsis."

He began to demur, but Lorenso cut him off. "Deep down she still loves you."

Alecsis wished he could believe him. He had never faced such an uncertain future. Even when he sat in the dungeon awaiting his death, he'd known what was to come. Now he felt as though he was walking a tightrope; one wrong move and he'd end up splattered on a hard, cobbled street. And most of all he feared his own mind, wondering what kind of horrors it would reveal next.
SEVENTEEN

THE DEAD TRAVELLER

Karina woke to the smell of cooking food. Her mouth watered, and her empty stomach growled noisily. As she rubbed sleep from her eyes, she realised exactly how hungry she was. She felt almost like her old self, a good sign she was recovering. Due to Lorenso's intervention, her body had been healed. Now the same process could begin on her mind.

Nira ducked under their shelter as Karina sat combing her tangled hair. Crawling on all fours towards the princess, she said, "The rain's brought the creatures out o' their holes. Tano's cooking up a feast; rabbit and pheasant. We shall have enough food to keep us going for days."

"Reading my mind, were ye?" Karina asked, rubbing her stomach. "I'm famished."

"Yer feeling better then?"

"Much," Karina reassured her.

"'Tis good, for yer beloved suffers this morning. I never heard a thing, but his bad dreams woke Lorenso and Tano."

"More memories?"

"Aye." Nira sucked in her lower lip. "He looks so sad, Karina. Not only doth he feel he hath failed you, but his memories haunt him. I don' know what he went through, but Tano says he travelled aboard a ship of evil."

"What happened to him?"

"None of them will say, but think o' the Pirate Krystos, and the answer seems clear."

Karina nodded solemnly, instead thinking of Noron, the dungeon master. She'd heard more about him than the pirate Krystos. The evil sea captain had seemed more of a legend than fact, until Alecsis was sent to vanquish him. And now they were travelling to the very place he'd last set up camp. "Perhaps I should talk to Alecsis myself," she said eventually.

Nira bobbed her head. "Neither Tano or Lorenso seem able to bring him out of his melancholy. Mayhap ye can. The mage said we have much ground to cover over the next few days, and Sir Alecsis's state of mind won' help."

"'Tis my fault he suffers so," Karina murmured, scrambling towards daylight. Guilt stabbed at her heart as she reached the section of the overhang where the horses had sheltered for the night. Their distinctive scent still clung to the air, and Karina hurried forward, stepping into a brilliant morning. The sunshine sparkled in drying puddles and glistened off rock faces, making their barren surroundings look almost beautiful. The wind still had a bite to it, and Karina pulled her cloak close.

Antano and Lorenso sat in front of the source of the mouth-watering cooking smell. True to Nira's word, they were barbecuing several large pieces of meat. They glanced up on hearing her approach, smiled, and raised hands in greeting.

"How do ye fare this morning, princess?" Lorenso asked.

"Still addressing me by title, I see." Karina flipped a dismissive hand. "Did we not decide to dispense with the formalities?"

### "Some habits die hard, Karina," he amended.

"Where is Alecsis?" she asked.

The smile faded from his face. "Over there." He motioned towards a cluster of rocks, and Karina saw Alecsis's distinctive blonde head in their midst. "He won't answer our summons for breakfast. Food is what we all need right now, particularly with such a long journey ahead of us."

"Nira said the same thing. Where are we going?" Karina asked. Although she already knew their immidate plans, what were their intentions once they found the ship? Where did they intend to sail, and did their plans include Nira and herself?

"We shall return to the pirates' camp. Makim and Alecsis's memories told me that his future lies with the ship on which he travelled to Avion."

The ship of evil, Karina thought, and shuddered. Lorenso saw her reaction and continued. "If neither of you wish to make the journey with us, we will see ye safely to a homestead on the other side of the Sirmon Ranges..."

He paused, turning over a piece of meat as he contemplated his next words. "The choice is yours, but I fear what ye said a moment ago is true. In all likelihood your days as a princess are over."

She could tell he hadn't wanted to deliver this piece of information, but then she'd suspected the same thing herself. In sneaking out of the castle to follow Alecsis she had jeopardised her future in the royal household. When Alecsis asked her if she was prepared to give up her position to be with him, she had made her decision, accepting a future as a commoner.

Nira came to stand beside her, and Karina turned to meet her gaze. "I go where Tano goes," her friend affirmed.

The slender young man beamed back at her across the fire.

"Ye can count on me," Karina said. "But what will we do once we find the ship?"

"That be up to Alecsis," the old mage murmured. "He has to make the decision to go home himself."

"Home?" Karina queried. "Across the Noiva?"

"Aye."

She clasped a hand over her mouth. Ever since lying eyes on Alecsis she'd wanted to know where he came from. Never had she dreamt of actually going there. The thought both frightened and excited her. "I guess I had better tell Alecsis," she said softly.

Lorenso thought that was a good idea. "But don't tarry. We only be a day or two ahead of yer father's troops," he said.

Karina paled. "But I thought ye used magic to convince them not to come this way."

"I did, but the spell was only a short term one. No mage can leave such a powerful force hovering in the air indefinitely... Not long ago I scryed the surrounding area, and saw them approach the Sirmon Ranges."

"Is there not something else you can use to throw them off our trail?" she asked fearfully, knowing that if her father's army caught up with them, not only would Alecsis die, but so would she. King Rostan wouldn't spare her simply because she was his daughter. He would see her as a traitor who had aided and abetted a murderer.

### "I could convince them we had gone a different way, but there is no other way other than the route we're on. Once we've reached the other side such a spell will prove useful. That is why we have to move quickly. If worse comes to worst, I'll render us invisible, but that is such a cumbersome spell, particularly when none of us will be able to see each other clearly either."

"I'll go and speak to Alecsis," Karina asserted. She left the camp and approached the solitary man perched on a rocky outcrop. From his vantage point, one could see the way they had come, the barely marked trail weaving its way through the rocks and boulders dominating the landscape. It seemed to stretch into infinity. Karina knew it would look the same once they had rounded the mountain, and the thought of several more days in this barren wilderness made her shiver.

She turned to the silent man beside her. He had tucked one leg close to his chest and rested his chin on his knee, his arms wrapped around his thigh. Even though he appeared to be looking out across the landscape, she knew his gaze was really focused inwards. He looked grim, hardened and not at all the kind of man one could approach with kindness, but kindness was exactly what he needed right now. Karina laid a gentle hand against his shoulder.

He flinched, turning to glare at her. "What do you want?" he demanded in a voice as cold and bitter as his face. All the gentleness she remembered was gone. Even his once soft mouth had become a thin taunt line, and his eyes had turned into turbulent pools of misery.

"We have to move on," Karina said softly. "And neither of us have breakfasted."

"I'm not stopping you." He shook her hand off.

"Yes you are," she said more forcibly. "I know ye had a bad dream last night - "

"Not a dream, a memory," he corrected her icily, returning his gaze to the barren landscape. Now that the sun had dried the rock faces, it had returned to its unique dismalness.

"A memory then, but ye can't let it stop you from going on."

"Why shouldn't I? You can all find sanctuary without me. I am the hunted one. What do I really have to live for now? You have rejected me, for which I cannot really blame you. I let ye down - "

"I forgive you for that," Karina interrupted. "I know ye had no way of counteracting Leonado's spell."

Returning his foot to the ground, he faced her, his eyes still cold and flinty. "Were you and he really childhood friends?"

This question momentarily threw her. It was the last thing she thought he would bring up. "In a way," she answered uncertainly, not sure what he was driving at.

"You either were or you weren't," he persisted.

"What does it matter now?"

He continued to stare at her in that hard, unrelenting way. She had never seen this side of him before, but suspected it was as much a part of his nature as the sweet tenderness she'd encountered by the creek. "Because 'tis possible that you now carry his child."

With a shiver she stepped back. "Nay! Never! I would rather die... Why are you like this? What have these memories done to you?"

"Made me see what a truly cruel and evil world we live in. Made me realise that until I landed on Avion's shores I was a nobody, nought more than a deck-hand... Now I know why I tried so hard to make something of myself here in your country. In my own I was nothing more than a slave, probably bought for the lowest bidder - "

"You will always be special to me," Karina insisted, but inside she was shocked and disappointed to find out that he hadn't been anything more than the lowliest of servants. Her indecision must have shown in her tone, for he went on.

"We have no future together, Karina. You will always be a women of noble birth."

Suddenly she found another card she could play. "But if I am with child, it could also be yours."

His eyes widened a fraction, and he sucked in his lower lip, worrying it like he always did when deep in thought. "How will we ever know?" he asked eventually.

"I'll know. I am certain of it." She gave a little toss of her head. "Besides, I might not be pregnant."

"And if you are we cannot take you across the ocean with us."

"Ye're sailing the Noiva then?" she asked.

"Why else does Makim want Lorenso and I to find that cursed pirate ship?"

"To destroy it perhaps?" Karina ventured.

Alecsis frowned, resumed chewing his lip, and then said, "That thought crossed my mind too, but I doubt The Crystal Fountain exists on this continent."

"The Crystal Fountain? What is that?"

Alecsis shook his head. "I have no idea, but according to Makim my destiny lies with it, whatever it is... wherever it is."

"Then how are we meant to find it?"

"I am sure Makim will send Renso a sign."

"Do ye realise what you just did?"

Alecsis frowned again. "What?"

"Decided to go on, to keep fighting. Perhaps The Crystal Fountain is a sacred place, something linked to your past you haven't yet remembered. How old were ye when you left, fourteen, fifteen?"

He shrugged. "Younger, I believe. Twelve or thirteen."

"Many things could have occurred before you set off on your journey, good things that you have yet to recall. If all ye've ever experienced was cruelty then ye wouldn't be the man you are today. Ye'd be hard and ruthless."

"I can be, Karina."

"But ye have a kinder side, a side that loves and seeks to protect. Ye must have had a good life once. And one day ye'll remember it."

With a sigh Alecsis reached out and touched her silken hair, brushing it back from her face. She placed her hand over his, noticing for the first time how cold his fingers were. "You asked me once if I was prepared to join you in yer travels, and I said I would follow you to the ends of the earth. That is still true."

And for the first time in days he smiled. Even though it was only a faint upturning of his lips, it warmed Karina's heart, giving her hope. His memories hadn't broken his spirit. He was still the brave, determined warrior she'd fallen in love with. Perhaps one day, when they had both come to terms with all the pain in their lives, they could find tenderness once more.

"Ye're the truly brave one, Karina. I admire you for that." He got to his feet. "We had better join the others afore they devour our breakfast as well as their own."

Hands linked they returned to camp. Her forgiveness had given him hope, hope that he could come to accept his past and not let it destroy their future. But he still found it hard to believe he'd led such a miserable existence.

The shipwreck had in essence saved his life, for he doubted he would have lived much longer under the tyranny of the cruel sea captain whose name he still could not recall. But then he remembered none of the other sailors' names, or even what the ship had been called. Something impressive, no doubt. If his countrymen were capable of building such a magnificent vessel, then what kind of dwellings did they live in? What kind of food did they eat? What were their lives like?

Why couldn't he remember?

Once they had eaten their fill, they packed and set off, once again leading the horses across the rocky ground in single file. The sun crawled across the sky, the hours dragging by at a snail's leisurely pace. When nightfall descended upon them, they collapsed gratefully in front of the fire, falling asleep soon after their evening meal. Even though Alecsis feared his memories, he didn't dream. No terrifying visions of the past returned to haunt him while he slept.

The next day passed with the same mind-numbing slowness. Antano tried to break the monotony with some jokes, but Alecsis insisted he had heard them all before. Karina didn't find them amusing, and Nira merely groaned.

When the sun hovered low on the horizon, they fell silent again, the only sound the crunching of their feet on the ground and the steady clop clop of the horses' hooves. The narrow, twisting, cobble-strewn path was still too uneven to ride, but at least it had started to decline. The spirits no longer bothered them. Their shrieks and cries had faded away, until only an occasional wail could be heard. Alecsis thought they might have come across some of them, but nothing, other than the occasional bird or rodent crossed their path.

By this time tomorrow we will have reached the end of this dreadful place, Alecsis thought hopefully, glancing briefly over his shoulder to see the weary expressions on his companions' faces.

### The sudden blast of psychic energy engulfed him like a dragon's roar. It came out of nowhere, sending him staggering backwards. His right hand grasped automatically for his sword, unsheathing it on instinct. Even though he knew the attack had been a mental one, the familiar feel of The Holy Avenger's cool hilt helped to stave off the powerful ambush. It was almost as though connecting with his magical weapon helped ease the force trying to take over his mind.

### Take over his mind!

Sweet Lorin, that was exactly what was happening! Someone, or something, was trying to force him from his body.

But why? What did it all mean?

The intruder had an awesome power. He felt the painful tug of its presence inside his head, sending great flashes of agony through his brain. Over and over they pulsed, weakening him, draining him.

### Alecsis stumbled, almost dropping the sword. Don't release The Avenger! he ordered himself through the pain.

"What's happening?"

"What's wrong?"

He heard the voices of his companions, but the bright, multi-coloured flashes of light blinded him with their intensity.

With a jolt he realised he had experienced this before, directly after he'd slain Krystos.

Did he have something to do with this?

No, the pirate captain was dead. Then who is trying to kill me, tear my brain from its roots and turn it into mash?

Like a great weight crushing down on him, the force tried to worm its evil into his mind. Alecsis clasped the sword, concentrating on its energy, hoping its magical power would save him.

"Don't touch him, or it will get you too!" He heard Lorenso shout.

### "It won't get me," Alecsis gritted, feeling a hand touch his shoulder. "Leave me alone! Leave me!"

Miraculously it complied. As quickly as it came, it left him, and he collapsed to his knees, his feet no longer able to support him. He was left with a pounding headache, and brought trembling hands to his throbbing forehead. Finally he looked up to see Lorenso crouching in front of him. The mage had never looked so old, his concerned face as pale as death.

"Thank Makim 'tis still you," Lorenso whispered.

### "What in the name of Serpon was that?" Alecsis rasped.

"I didn't have enough time to find out exactly, but I suspect 'twas a wayward spirit in search of a host."

"Where did it go?"

Lorenso frowned. "It disappeared so fast I was unable to follow its path... Strange. I have never come across anything like that afore."

Alecsis motioned back the way they had come. "Could it have been the presence I felt watching us a few days ago?"

"Perhaps, but if it was, it hath incredible power."

"Do ye think it's still around?" Alecsis asked uncertainly, not in a hurry for a repeat of such agony. His head still ached, but it was starting to ease, ebbing away like an outgoing tide. Slowly he climbed to his feet.

"Nay," Lorenso answered, also standing up.

They both turned to face the rest of their party. Karina and Nira stared back in stunned disbelief. Antano had collapsed onto a nearby rock, his head in his hands.

Alecsis approached him, and Lorenso followed. "You touched him, did ye not?" the wizard asked the taciturn youth.

Slowly Antano looked up, but his gaze remained distant, distracted, as though he couldn't comprehend what had happened.

"Ye touched Alecsis while he was fighting the invader?" Lorenso repeated.

"Aye," Antano answered in a chastised little boy voice.

Lorenso laid a hand on his shoulder. "Are ye all right?"

Antano nodded, casting his gaze away. "Just a bit spooked. I felt it try to get me too, but Alecsis evicted it in time."

"I think we should find somewhere to camp for the night," Alecsis said. "The sun has almost set, and I don't think anyone is up to more travelling today. I for one have a headache to beat all headaches."

"I have something for that in my healing pouch," Lorenso said.

"Thank Makim for magic herbs," Alecsis muttered, heading back to his jittery horse. She didn't let him take hold of her bridle straight away. Obviously his experience had affected her too, and he had to cajole her to come to him, but eventually she allowed him to lead her, and they continued down the track.

"I think there might be a good place to camp through there," Lorenso called out, pointing towards a gap in the rock to their left. "I caught a glimpse of a cave."

"I think you're mistaken," Antano interjected. "Let's continue. There should be something further on."

Lorenso cast him a grim look, but refrained from reprimanding him - this time. He resumed walking, entering the aforementioned area.

He had been right, of course. They entered a protected alcove, with a slight overhang to shelter them if it started to rain. But then Alecsis looked down. Karina followed his gaze, and her scream echoed around the small cavern, reverberating off the walls long after she had clamped her hands over her mouth.

Lying curled up on his side next to an extinguished campfire was a man, his dead eyes staring back at them in the twilight.

Lorenso was the first to approach. He knelt down, placing a hand against his immobile face, and declared all life extinguished. Alecsis stopped at his side, staring down at the dead man. Recognition slowly dawned.

"I know him. He... he was a soldier in my army. I thought he'd died at the Pavlo Inlet..." He wiped a suddenly damp hand across his brow. "But I cannot for the life of me remember his name." He turned to Antano. "Do ye recall this man?"

The youth glanced down, his smooth brow puckering. "I think... 'twas Moreshe."

"That's it," Alecsis declared. "Moreshe, but what is he doing here, and what killed him?"

"Do ye want me to examine the body?" Lorenso asked.

"Aye," Alecsis answered, catching sight of an object protruding from the dead man's backpack, lying a few feet away. Its smooth reflective surface drew his gaze, and he bent to retrieve it. As his hands cupped the cool glass sphere, he glanced up at Lorenso. The magician stared in surprise at the object.

"A magic looking glass!" Lorenso gasped, extending his hands for it. "How in the name of Makim did he get hold of this?"

"Leonado?" Alecsis suggested, placing the magical item in the mage's hands.

"Of course!" He nodded at the corpse. "That would explain his death. Once he had no more use for him, Leonado killed him." He glanced back at the glass sphere. "This could be useful though. I feel a little inadequate without my mirror."

"He doesn't look like he's been here that long. No more than a day." Alecsis remarked, realising that they would come across a worse sight than this when they reached the Pavlo Inlet. After weeks under the strong Avion sun, the slain pirates would be maggot-ridden piles of flesh and bone.

"Mayhap he died of natural causes. He don' look like he was a healthy soul," Nira observed.

"What use could an ordinary foot soldier have been to Leonado?" Lorenso asked, continuing his former train of thought.

"What reason did Leonado have to do anything?" Karina snapped, stepping forward.

Alecsis stuck out his arm, preventing her from coming closer. "Keep away. He could be festering with all manner of diseases."

"But we should give him a proper burial," she insisted.

"How? This ground is packed so hard we would be digging all night. We have your father's army after us, remember? Best if we leave him and find somewhere else to camp for the night," Alecsis said, straightening up.

"But ye can't leave him here for the vultures," she protested.

"They have to eat something," Antano said. His inappropriate comment drew everyone's gaze. "Sorry," he muttered.

"The best I can do is provide a shroud for his body," Lorenso said. "We'll seal him in his bedroll."

Karina nodded in acquiescence, realising they were right. Why waste essential energy digging a grave for someone they barely knew? They were running for their own lives, and if they wanted to survive they had to reserve their energy for the long march ahead.
EIGHTEEN

THE SURVIVOR

The humid heat of the jungle was a welcome relief after the chill of the Sirmon Ranges. The wind had dried out their skin, making their faces sting. Karina and Nira were exhausted. It required incredible willpower, and the aid of Lorenso's rejuvenating potions to keep them going. Even Antano had stopped repeating his tiresome jokes, and their spirits were at an all time low.

Not long after they had passed into the lush canopy of the rainforest, Lorenso prepared an incantation to throw Rostan's men off their trail. The soldiers had been gaining on them, and were now only half a day behind. The wizard sent a message reeling through the atmosphere, making them believe they had headed inland instead of along the coast.

This completed, they set off again, following the path of the sun to get to the shore. By the end of the second day they reached the ocean road. Relieved to be back on their horses, they rode at a steady canter. For the next few days travelling was easy, the route to Lancastro a well used path. The water's timeless pounding of the shore lulled them to sleep at last, and they woke well rested.

Alecsis continued to receive the occasional fleeting flash of memory as they followed the shoreline north. Perhaps it was the close proximity of the water that brought back the past. Through the windows of his prison, he saw numerous alien ports. He caught glimpses of large cities, built of stone and glass, towns with snow-capped mountains looming over them, and villages inhabited by primitive tribes. They never stayed at any of these ports for long. Something always made his nemesis return to torment him.

On their second day on the coast road, when it became overcast with a thin layer of high cloud, Alecsis noticed the dolphins. About half a league out to sea, they traveled in the same direction as Alecsis and his friends. There were only two, and they often disappeared for hours at a time, but Alecsis spotted them again and again. He knew it was wishful thinking, but he couldn't help wondering if they were the same ones that had originally brought him to shore.

The dolphins stayed with them all the way into Lancastro, a small fishing and pearling settlement. Alecsis last saw them whilst standing on the hill overlooking the township. Then they swam out to sea, and Alecsis led his party into the settlement. Most of the houses were made of sandstone blocks hacked out of the sheer cliff-faces further north.

From his last journey this way, he knew that the coast road veered sharply inland due to a sudden rise in the headland. Leading seventy-odd men meant that no inn had been able to accommodate them, and Alecsis had skirted the town, camping in a cleared area about half a league away.

The people hadn't known of their presence until he sent a messenger to tell them that their attackers were dead. Alecsis saw little sign of pillage. The sturdy stone homes had obviously withstood the siege. Now they were only five, Alecsis rode straight to the small, protected harbour where accommodation could usually be found. Once they had entrusted their mounts to a groom at the Oceanview Inn, they entered the cool, sandstone building.

"Ye may have to use some unnatural persuasion to make the innkeeper to give us a room for the night," Alecsis whispered in Lorenso's ear. "I for one am impoverished."

Lorenso smiled. "I do believe this belongs to you." He extracted a familiar purse from the folds of his robe and handed it to the young man.

"Jenkano's money bag!" Alecsis gasped in surprise, never expecting to see the purse again. King Rostan had paid Alecsis enough for him to secure the moneybag behind a lose brick in his chamber. "I won't ask how ye found my hiding place," he laughed.

"Then I won't tell you," Lorenso answered.

The innkeeper, true to his profession, was a rotund, bald man with greedy eyes. Once he saw that the strange party could afford their accommodation, he showed them to their rooms; airy chambers with large windows overlooking the ocean. Karina and Nira decided to rest before dinner, so the three men made plans for a walk along the harbourfront. Before they got very far, propriety compelled Lorenso into a merchant's clothing store.

"We may have grown accustomed to our own stench, but I did not like the way that innkeeper wrinkled his nose at us," the magician said softly. "I think a change of clothes and a bath are in order."

As usual Alecsis had trouble finding garments to fit his tall, well-built frame, so he was forced to settle on a pale green robe, accompanied with a black and gold woven belt with tassels that looked uncannily like the old magician's.

"If ye wish to become versed in the art of spellbinding, ye might as well become acquainted with the clothing of our profession," Lorenso said. "I think I might plait that unwieldy mane of yours as well."

Alecsis merely rolled his eyes, and when they got back to the inn he washed and hung his own clothes out, vowing to put them back on as soon as they were dry. Not only did Lorenso braid his hair, but managed to persuade him and Antano to leave their swords behind, although he had no problem with concealed weapons. "After the last pirate attack, the good people of Lancastro are already suspicious of strangers," the wizard said. "We don't want them to think we have come to start a war."

Once they were clean, they set off. Lorenso was wearing a plain dark blue tunic and matching breeches, and Antano had on a garish doublet and hose discarded by some noble with terrible dress sense.

"Ye really do look ridiculous," Alecsis shook his head at him. "Just as well my purse is bottomless, because I don't think that outfit was worth what I paid for it."

"Well, I like it," the youth retorted.

Several pearling boats had returned at the same time, and a great deal of activity was taking place on the docks when the three men approached the protected harbour. From the level of excitement, someone had done well that day. The travelers stood back to allow the cheerful crew past. So engrossed in their celebrations, they cast the strangers no more than fleeting glances. Nothing short of an earthquake would spoil their pleasure this day.

Lorenso drew Alecsis's attention to a tall man in their midst. Alecsis had been watching the ocean for another sign of the dolphins. Lorenso had to jab him in the ribs to get him to follow his gaze. "See anything unusual about him?"

Alecsis turned his attention to the stranger. Lorenso had pointed him out because of his height and colouring. Although his hair wasn't blonde, it was lighter than that of the people around him. A sandy brown, he wore it cropped short. His skin, although exposed to many hours in the sun, was a light, golden brown. But it was his face that drew Alecsis. Like himself, he possessed the sharply hewn features he suspected were a common trait of his countrymen. He was tall and muscular, but looked considerably older than Alecsis. His gray-blue eyes were surrounded by a myriad of tiny lines.

Alecsis had spent the past three years longing to come across another survivor, but now that some of his memories had returned, he feared to confront the pale man. Alecsis recognized him. He had seen him on deck a few times, but did not know if he was friend of foe. Reason told him to turn around and leave him to his celebrations, but curiosity about his homeland compelled him to step forward. Antano's hand on his arm made him stop.

"Don't do it," the slender youth urged.

But the other man had already seen him. They came face to face, and his companions continued on. One of them called out to him. "Hurry up, Lorg. The pearl exchange closes in ten minutes!"

The big man didn't seem to hear them. He stared back at Alecsis with such a look of horror, Alecsis felt an uncomfortable tightness constrict his throat.

Then Lorg took a step back, almost tumbling off the edge of the pier. He steadied himself, and brought a hand to his chest. He wore plain fisherman's garb, short breeches for making diving less restrictive, and a loose white shirt to keep cool under the sun's glare.

"I... I never deserted ship, Capt'n," he began with a stammer. He spoke Avionan in a heavily accented voice. He didn't seem to have grasped the language as well as Alecsis. Or perhaps his fear made him stumble over his words. "I... I fell overboard in the storm. I... I tried to find out what happened to everyone, but... but they were all gone. And... and then the pirates took your ship. They took it north, Sir. But they're gone now. So... so if ye want her back, you might find her at the Pavlo Inlet. That... that's if the king's army didn't torch her."

Antano sniggered. "He thinks ye're the captain!"

"Well we do look rather alike," Alecsis admitted, suppressing a shudder as the fiend's cold, hard face flashed in front of his eyes.

Then a new thought struck him. "Do you remember the boy, Alecsis?" he asked in his native tongue, the words flowing as naturally as water along a brook. It had the desired effect. The man stopped his trembling to gawk at Alecsis.

"I... I haven't heard Crystonian for so long... It... It's like... You won't believe how homesick I am," he answered in their language. At least now Alecsis had the name of the tongue. If he played his cards right, he could get a whole manner of information out of this man. "Alecsis, did you say?"

"Yes."

Lorg frowned, and something akin to pity crossed his face. Then he squared his shoulders in anticipation of a confrontation. "Look, we're in a whole new world now," he said in Avionan. "Ye have no control over me any more. I have employment here. I told you where ye can find your ship. The boy probably drowned. Hell, everyone drowned..."

"Then how did you survive?" Antano asked suddenly.

"I clung to a plank that must have been ripped loose in the storm. Eventually I came to shore about half a day's walk south of here," Lorg explained.

"You were lucky. I came to shore further north, and walked for days afore I came across another person. I'm not who you think, Lorg. I am Alecsis. Over three years have passed. Children grow up. I hated that captain as much as you did - probably more."

Lorg's expression underwent another profound alteration. Alecsis could almost feel the relief flooding through him. "Of course you're not Captain Rose," he said in Crystonian. "I... I can see that now, but you've grown up to look remarkably like him... So there is justice in this world, after all." Then something else occurred to him. "My friends spoke of a pale-haired knight defeating the pirates. It was you, wasn't it?"

"Have you seen any other pale-haired men hereabouts?" Alecsis asked in the same language. It felt strange using it again, but he didn't seem to have forgotten any of it.

"No thank the Goddess, for we both know who the other would be. Well, it looks like I missed the pearl exchange. How about joining me for a drink?"

"We were just about to invite you for one. We're staying at the Oceanview Inn. We'll be dining there as well." Alecsis offered.

"The Oceanview serves good ale. It has rum too. Why not? It isn't every day one meets a fellow countryman this far from home." Lorg grinned, slapping Alecsis across the shoulders. "Of all the people to survive the storm, I'm glad 'twas you. They weren't a likeable bunch, were they?"

"You can say that again," Alecsis agreed.

"They weren't so bad when we set out, but all those years at sea must have meddled with their minds, twisted them somehow. I'm not sorry they're all dead."

By the time they reached the inn, everyone knew the knight who defeated Krystos was in town. People in the tap room wanted to congratulate Alecsis and buy him a drink.

"Yer not getting my friend drunk," Lorenso announced. "I know what that stuff does to him."

"One drink and he's anybody's, huh?" tittered a buxom wench not of the serving variety.

Lorenso glared at her. He had never liked the women of her profession.

"Better do as grandpapa says," she giggled, and wandered off towards a more responsive group of men.

Lorenso began wriggling his fingers, but Alecsis pushed his arms down. "She's not worth it, Renso... What were you planning to do anyway?"

"A few unsightly warts in several sightly places," the wizard answered laconically.

"Charming," Antano remarked.

Lorg was looking at them with a bemused expression on his face. Alecsis felt the big man's loneliness, his longing for friendship. He had found life on Avion difficult, perhaps even more so than Alecsis. Alecsis's empathy told him that he could trust this man, that he had the potential to become a powerful alley.

"One of us should see to the girls before we get too comfortable," Lorenso said, as they approached an empty table.

"I'll go," Alecsis replied. "I want to get out of this dress anyway. How women wander about without tripping over their skirts I cannot begin to fathom."

"And that comes from a man who used to wander about in a clanking iron suit twice as heavy as he was," the magician snorted. "But leave the plait. It rather suits you."

Lorg looked away at that point, and Alecsis wriggled his fingers at Lorenso. To his surprise the mage ducked. Alecsis left the tap room, chuckling softly to himself.

Karina answered his knock. He entered to find her sitting on the bed clad in a serving wench's gown. Nira was still asleep in the other bed, a similar dress slung over one of the two chairs in the room. A bath sat in a corner, and a bar of soap lay on the window sill. Through the window he saw that their clothes were also drying on the line. The rain had held off for most of the day, but now the sky looked leaden.

"How are you faring, dear one?" he asked, slowly approaching her. She looked so beautiful to him, her freshly washed hair spread out over her slender shoulders.

She smiled up at him. "Magehood becomes ye, Alecsis. I like that outfit on you."

"I don't." On cue he stumbled over the hem of his robe, tumbling onto the bed beside her. "See what I mean?" He righted himself. "It looks like rain. I think I might go and bring in our clothes."

"I'll do that, Alecsis dear, if you bring us some dinner."

"Ye have no wish to join us?"

"In a rowdy tavern full of drunken pearlers? I think not."

"On second thoughts, I agree with you. I fear ye might be indecently propositioned, even with me by yer side. The whores are out early tonight."

"The pearlers did well today. Those women know there is good money to be made."

"How did ye become so aquatinted with the talk of the town?"

"The cook likes to gossip. The other news item is that the slayer of Krystos is in town. Don't let them get you drunk, Alecsis."

"I shall behave myself. Besides, I have news of my own to gather... I've found another survivor." And he told her about Lorg. "I want to find out all he knows about my homeland, particularly that mysterious crystal fountain." Gently he took her hand. "He seems like a reasonable man. I do not sense any evil within him."

"Will you ask him to join us on our journey?"

"If he want's to. Do you mind?"

"Nay, of course not. He might even know how to sail the ship."

"Not just a pretty face." Alecsis caressed her cheek. "He is bound to know a thing or two."

For the first time since the dreadful night Lorenso had banished Leonado, he risked a kiss. Leaning towards her, he gently touched his mouth to hers. She did not pull back, but neither did she respond, and equally as gently, he drew away again.

"I love you, Karina," he murmured.

"I love you too, Alecsis, but please move slowly. I am still afeard."

"Was that kiss too much?"

"No, dear Alecsis. 'Twas fine."

"We'll try it again later, hmm?"

She finally managed a smile.

"That's what I want to see. A lovely princess should never look glum. I will make you smile always, my love, one way or another." He realized then that he would probably never have the courage to tell her about his own experience at the hands of Captain Rose. He was having enough trouble accepting it himself. How could he talk about it to someone who had experienced something so similar? Touching her cheek again, he left the room.

When he returned with their supper, Nira was awake, and Karina had brought in their clothes. As the two women sat down at the table to eat, Alecsis went to his own room to change into his comfortable tunic and leggings. Then he returned to the tap room.

It had grown rowdier in his absence, but his friends still sat in their secluded corner. Their own meals arrived a short time later. Conversation was kept at a minimum while they tucked into their food.

"So what brought ye back this way?" Lorg asked, pushing his empty plate away.

Glad he had brought the subject up first, Alecsis met his gaze and said, "I want to go home, and we have reason to believe that the ship did not perish, but remained anchored in the Pavlo Inlet. My friends and I intend to find it and sail her home."

Lorg looked almost disappointed. "I doubt ye'll find enough men to crew her, let alone ones who will know how to sail a ship such as that. This world is essentially a primitive one, and adventuring isn't a strong motivator unless there be money involved," he said slowly in Avionan.

"Ye don't think we can do it?" Antano asked.

"I was the chief navigator. That alone was a full time job. She needs at least thirty men to sail her," he answered.

Something about Antano had started to nag at Alecsis, but although his empathy was strong where emotions were concerned, he could not work out what it might be. Perhaps it was Antano's out of character negativity. Ever since coming across the dead soldier, he had been unusually taciturn, even brooding.

"We have to find the ship first. Then we will plan a strategy," Alecsis said.

"Why have you decided to go home now? Do you not have a good life here? To be knighted at such a young age is a rarity. Surely it must have been a great honour, considering your humble beginnings," Lorg went on in Crystonian.

"The time has come to move on," Alecsis answered in Avionan. "There is something I want to ask you. When I fell into the ocean, I had some trouble with my memory. All those hours in the water must have done something to my mind. My past is starting to come back, but I still do not recall much about my homeland. Have you ever heard of something called The Crystal Fountain?"

"Of course. Everyone who worships Roseana longs to bathe in its crystal waters," Lorg continued in his native tongue. "I, for one have never seen it. Few people have. The priests are very strict about who they allow inside. If everyone entered, the waters would lose purity, or so they say. Personally, I think it's a ruse to keep the masses out, thus allowing only the wealthy to heal their wounds and ease their aches."

"It has healing properties?" Alecsis asked, wondering how his future was linked to it. Perhaps because of its magical nature, he reasoned. Both Jenkano and Lorenso had said that with the correct tuition he could become a mage in his own right, so what need did he have for healing waters?

"So I've heard. Who knows if it's really true. There are only two criteria to gain entrance. You either pay a hundred Markens, equivalent to about a thousand Dacmas, or try to convince a priest that your need is greater than everyone else's. I've heard that they've turned away grievously wounded people because they were in rags. You'd think they would get the message, but people still travel hundreds of miles to The Crystal City in the hope of curing their ailments."

'It hardly sees fair," Alecsis murmured, staring moodily into his tankard.

"Not much in this world is, my friend. I've only been to The Crystal City once. People also go there in search of work, the reason I went... You know how it got its name?"

Alecsis shook his head.

"Sorry, I forgot you forgot," Lorg chortled. "The palace on the hill above the temple is made entirely out of crystal. It's the most incredible thing in the world. If you'd seen it, you would never forget the experience. When the sun shines on its spires, its colours shimmer all over the city. It's such a bright, lively place, particularly at night. One could spend a lifetime savouring the capital's nightlife," he sighed.

"What exactly is crystal?" Alecsis asked, wishing that he could include his friends in their conversation, but Lorg simply hadn't mastered enough Avionan to tell his story in their language.

Lorg sighed again, his face serene. "It's like glass, only many times stronger. The rose fountain gushes forth molten crystal, or so they say, which is why it has the power to heal..." He ran his big, broad hands over his fuzzy, razor-cut hair.

### "Anyway, I was lucky enough to find work. I've navigated many a ship through the straits of Birka, and considered it an honour to join Captain Rose's crew - until I found out what a tyrant he was. The Crystal Rose is probably one of the fastest ships in all of Crystonia. She's certainly the most beautiful vessel I have ever seen."

"He named his ship after himself, or after the rose fountain?" Alecsis asked.

"Who knows? He was so arrogant and vain he probably believed our Goddess was named in homage to him," he snorted derisively.

"You only worship one God?"

Lorg frowned. "You really have forgotten a lot, haven't you?"

"I'm afraid so."

"Then why the urgency to get back?"

### Alecsis glanced at Lorenso, wondering if he should tell Lorg the truth, that if he stayed, he would be a hunted man until the day he died. He was certain Lorg would never betray him, but something told him not to reveal too much too soon. Lorenso acknowledged his unspoken decision with a small nod. "I have seen most of what Avion has to offer. I now want to go home and find out the truth about my past. If we find The Crystal Rose do you want to join us? Your navigational skills will be of a great advantage. If anyone knows how to find the way home, you should. And I will pay you."

Lorg smiled, a beaming grin that turned the lines around his eyes into a maze of creases. "I never thought you'd ask. Forget the money. I've earned more than enough diving for pearls. If you survived Captain Rose's tyranny to become Avion's greatest knight, then I would be honoured to join you in your quest."
NINETEEN

END OF THE ROAD

Another wave of doubt washed through Lorg Brank as he shouldered his pack the following morning. They had decided to leave their horses behind, the jungle too dense for riding.

Lorg desperately wanted to go home, but not with a group of people who had no idea how to sail a ship. It didn't seem to matter how often he told them that many more sailors were required, they remained determined to travel to the Pavlo Inlet on their own. Lorg was convinced they were making the trip for nothing. Alecsis had never climbed rigging, let alone set a sail. The old man looked ready for the grave, and the youth wasn't even old enough to shave. He had yet to meet the two women, but what would they know about sailing?

Even if they did find the ship when they got there, they would have to return for more men. Why then was he wasting his time accompanying them? Because he genuinely liked Alecsis. It still amazed him at how well Alecsis had adjusted to life on Avion. Not only had he mastered the language with proficiency, but he'd made some valued friends, a lot more than Lorg had achieved. Sure he could be classed as wealthy from his pearl hauls, but he lived alone. No one would miss him if he left town.

### Nobody missed him in Crystonia either. He'd once had a wife and two young children, but his love of sailing had soured their marriage long before he'd signed up with The Cystal Rose. Betta had wanted him to become a farmer, but all Lorg knew was the sea. His adventurousness had intrigued her in the beginning, not whether he could grow crops and mend fence pailings. Her family were wealthy enough to provide for her, so he had left, vowing to leave women and their emotional demands alone. From that day on he only consorted with those who demanded payment for their services. At least he knew where he stood with whores. Alecsis and Lorenso hadn't been able to understand that side of his nature. When he called one of the pretty dames over, the two men had stared at him with barely concealed disdain.

"It's all right for you, young Alecsis," he muttered to himself. "You have a damsel that loves you enough to travel the oceans with you." She must be special indeed, he thought, and a pang of jealousy twisted his lonely heart. "Hellfire and damnation!" he grumbled. Why should he begrudge the young man some happiness? Just because his marriage fell apart didn't mean Alecsis would have the same problem.

Despite his youth Alecsis had that special something that drew women like moths to a flame. Lorg had met a few men with such charisma. At first he'd placed Captain Rose is that category. The way he'd commanded his men had initially won their respect. Lorg supposed it was a mixture of charm and persuasion, coupled with good looks. He had never possessed either.

His self-flagellation compelled him to make a vow to himself. If I do make it home, I'm going to be a father to my children, he decided. I'm going to make up for all those years away at sea. He doubted his wife would take him back, but he could at least try and do the right thing by the little ones.

The rain had washed the sand from the streets, and the cobbles glistened in the early morning sunshine. Lorg didn't even look back at his home of three years as he headed for the Oceanview Inn. Laden with supplies, his pack already felt heavy. Lorg knew how dense the jungle could be, and nourishing food wasn't always easy to find. He hoped the stories about its vicious predators were just that. Heck! The Avion people were so primitive they still believed in magic. Not only believed, but feared it as well. Some were convinced that a sorcerer had aided the pirates in their raids.

Lorg wouldn't demean himself by asking Alecsis where that particular rumour came from. Lorg Brank had to see to believe, and he had seen much in his thirty-three years. But nothing could beat Captain Rose's cruelty. Everyone on board knew what he'd done to Alecsis in his cabin. They had all felt sorry for the lad, but their captain thought of inhuman punishments for anyone who dared interfere with his plans. The men kept out of his way as much as possible, Lorg included. He made his reports to the first mate, a fawning individual who doted on his captain like a dog.

### Lorg had thought of leaving at every port of call, but dread of never returning home compelled him stay with The Crystal Rose. The further they traveled, the more unlikely it seemed, and by the time they were ship-wrecked upon Avion's shores, he'd given up on ever seeing his homeland again. Considering himself lucky to still be alive, he decided to make the most of his new life as a pearler. The attack of the pirates had almost been his undoing...

### On seeing The Crystal Rose round the cove that fateful day Linkana was attacked, he'd made for the jungle in terror, fearing that Captain Rose had returned. He urged as many people as he could to hide with him. Most of the townspeople followed him, believing the rumours about the massive pirate ship that could appear out of nowhere.

That day Lorg realized how truth could be distorted into myth. Avion had never seen such a vessel, and no doubt her speed made her appear magical. To have survived such a vicious storm meant she was obviously made of sturdier timbers than he'd thought.

Lorg found his new travelling companions outside the stables at the Oceanview Inn. Alecsis introduced him to the two women. Lorg saw immediately why Alecsis had fallen for the auburn haired beauty. Even though they both wore boy's clothes, Karina's feminine curves could not be disguised. Her relative paleness intrigued Lorg. She could have passed as a half-breed, making the sailor wonder if he'd be the cause of some light-brown children. Taking Karina's fingers in his, he inclined his head and gently kissed the back of her hand.

"Is that the way you greet everyone in Crystonia?" she asked, her cheeks flushing prettily.

"No, only lovely damsels." Then he inclined his head to Nira. Even though Lorg knew he would never find dark-skinned women truly beautiful, Nira possessed a vivaciousness that danced in her lively brown eyes. Lorg had never been able to resist a sensual woman, and Nira struck him as the passionate type. She boldly extended her hand, and Lorg took it, lightly kissing her warm, soft flesh. Then she cast an uncertain glance in Antano's direction, but he merely looked back at them with a bored expression on his face. Were they lovers? Lorg wondered. The youth didn't appear to be interested. Something about him had irked the sailor since their initial meeting. A soldier should show some degree of enthusiasm for his trade, but Antano seemed full of indifference to everyone and everything.

It's not your place to reason why, Lorg told himself, and released her hand.

"I think I like this custom," she said, smiling up at him. Antano's neglect had begun to irk her too. He had gone from one extreme to another, turning from an amorous lover to a man who did not even look at her. She had tried to interest him in love-making several times since coming across the dead soldier, but he always come up with one excuse or another. "The others might find us," "I'm tired," to a turned shoulder and blunt, "Leave me alone."

His rejection wouldn't have hurt so much if it had been accompanied with an explanation. So much for thinking him a gentle, warm-hearted young man. Lorg's tender greeting lifted the heavy weight in her heart. Although she had never found Alecsis appealing, Lorg, being older and more mature, knew how to flirt with the ladies. This journey might not be so dreary after all, she thought hopefully as they set off.

Night came early in the jungle, and the six travelers curled up in their bedrolls long before anyone in town would have. The nightstones had faded, their glowing lights no longer able to lead the way. Sleep didn't come easily. Eerie night-noises tormented their ears, and biting insects kept them scratching well into the small hours. Alecsis's and Lorenso's soothing thoughts kept the camp safe from the more dangerous predators. The rank dampness made lighting a fire difficult, and keeping it burning virtually impossible. Rationing the dried meats and bread, they supplemented their diet with jungle fruits.

Krystos, now Antano, was always the last to fall asleep. He had much on his mind, and his writhing, hate-filled thoughts kept him staring listlessly up at the dark canopy of palms. On the third night, after tossing and turning for what seemed like hours, he scrambled out of his hot, damp bedroll. In the cool, still air he sat staring angrily at the pale oval of Alecsis's sleeping face. He lay on his back beside him, his breathing even and relaxed. No dark thoughts tormented his nauseatingly pure soul.

That face should have been mine by now, Krystos thought in frustration. Although leaving Moreshe and slipping into the young soldier's body had been no great hardship, he cursed that damned enchanted sword Alecsis always kept at his side.

Krystos's eyes fell on it now. Although Alecsis had removed the scabbard and belt from around his waist, it lay within easy reach, its jeweled hilt glittering faintly in the moonlight. If only I could get it away from him somehow, Krystos thought, hurl it into the undergrowth, then take over his mind without its interference.

### What's stopping you? You a coward, or something? a snide voice inside his head taunted him. Alecsis lies blissfully unaware. Just reach out and grab it. Go on, I dare you to. But Krystos kept his hands clenched tightly by his sides.

### You mean you're afraid of a simple weapon, the same as the one you once wielded as Krystos? the voice went on.

### That was different, Krystos snarled mentally in response. And it still lay in the ocean cave where he had placed it as Moreshe. Funny how Leonado had forgotten all about it. But then the sorcerer hadn't needed artifacts to aid him in battle. He'd managed to get killed all by himself. That thought soothed Krystos a little. The one with all the power of magic at his disposal had perished, while Krystos finally had the opportunity to return home.

### Go on, take the sword. Krystos had never been able to resist a challenge, particularly one he issued himself. He reached out across Alecsis, but as his hand hovered over The Avenger's hilt, he thought he saw a faint glow emanate from the weapon. You're imagining it, his inner companion taunted.

### Shut up, he hissed back. He had heard the voice a few times since becoming Antano, but it had always been distant and faint, something he could overrule at will. Was it his conscience, or one of the souls he had evicted from their bodies? Had one of them joined him inside his new host? That thought was too monstrous to even contemplate, and he defiantly grabbed The Avenger's hilt.

The metal turned bright red under his touch, sizzling his skin.

Cursing venomously, Krystos snatched his hand away, pain searing through his palm. Damn thing had burned him. Even in the gloom of night, he saw his flesh start to blister.

Krystos thought he heard laughter through the haze of pain. He moaned, clasping his injured hand to his chest. The laughter intensified, and he stared around wildly as the camp came awake.

As he scrambled to his feet, he realized that the taunting noise was coming from inside his own head. "Shut up!" he cursed. "Shut up!"

"Antano! What's wrong? What happened?" Alecsis's concerned voice broke through his pain and confusion.

He turned to his life-long enemy, and somehow managed to get the words out. "Something bit me, but I don't think it's poisonous."

"Why don't you let me have a look at it?" Alecsis asked. Sitting up, he extended his hand to him.

"Nay, 'tis nothing. Go back to sleep," he gritted out, knowing that he would have to wear his gloves for some time to come. If any of them saw he had been burned instead of bitten, they would want to know why, particularly as all their attempts to light a fire had failed.

Krystos stepped over Alecsis's legs, and scooped up a water-flask lying on the ground. He ducked into the bushes with it. Mercifully nobody followed, and the jungle enveloped him in its dark folds.

They plodded through another day, the same as the one before. Although they had a route to follow, forged by Alecsis's army several months earlier, it was already overgrown, so they were often forced to wait while the younger men hacked away clinging vines.

Lorenso stood watching, wishing he could aid them magically, but he had promised Alecsis not to use his powers unless absolutely necessary. Because Lorg did not believe in magic, Alecsis hadn't wanted to frighten him with its intensity, particularly as he had become a valued member of their party. But the time would come for him to use of his powers. The spell rendering the ship invisible had to be lifted. Unraveling a spell cast through evil means was never easy, sometimes even impossible, and Lorenso was glad to conserve his energy.

With all this time to think, he had also come up with a theory about the change in Antano. The old magician knew that Alecsis and Jenkano had once communicated with thoughts instead of words. His concern about Antano was growing, and he needed to discuss his fears with Alecsis. Surely he had noticed the change in the youth as well.

### What do you think is wrong with Antano? he asked, sending his question directly into the young man's mind.

### Alecsis cast a surprised glance over his shoulder. You've never done that before, he thought back.

### I've never needed to. I'm concerned about your friend. He hasn't been himself since we came across that dead soldier. What do you think could be wrong with him? Alecsis's empathy was excellent, but if he wanted to become a good magician, he needed to learn to look deeper into people's souls.

### The two men had fallen behind, but Alecsis could still see Antano trudging along ahead of him. Although he knew the youth could not tune into their silent discussion, he nevertheless felt uneasy talking about him behind his back. I fear the spirit that attacked me may have done something to him. Antano touched me during the battle. It could have affected him, tampered with his mind, even infiltrated it.

### Very perceptive, Lorenso thought back. That was precisely what I was thinking.

### But what can we do about it? Alecsis asked.

### One of us should talk to him to ascertain how he now thinks and feels. You know him better than I... Make a note of the changes. I may have to intervene magically.

### You fear it is as serious as that?

### I only hope there is something I can do.

Krystos was so deep in thought he barely noticed the damp vines and palm branches brushing against his face. The other travelers stopped to push them aside or cut them down, but Krystos was too troubled to bother. All he could think about was how to keep pretending he was the young soldier, Antano.

So far he had failed dismally in this task. He simply could not bring himself to become intimately involved with the young maid, his first mistake. Luckily Lorg, his traitorous navigator, seemed to have captured her interest, so he doubted he would have any more problems with her. What really bothered him was Lorenso's suspicion. The mage kept glancing at him with doubting eyes, and Krystos knew as well as anyone that one only crossed a magic-user if they had suicidal tendencies.

But his greatest concern was the voice inside his head. It jabbered away almost constantly now, taunting him, calling him names. It sounded like his own, or rather Antano's, once again making him wonder if something of the young soldier had remained behind.

"No!" he snarled out loud for even daring to have such a thought. Antano is dead. It's your own voice, your own worries and doubts coming to the surface. And Krystos had a great deal to worry about.

### That's right. Be worried. Be very concerned. I'm going to drive you mad. I will see you suffer like you made Alecsis suffer.

Krystos clamped his hands over his ears, knowing full well this wouldn't drown out the voice.

### You can't shut me up as easily as that. You're stuck with me. I'm not leaving you until you repent for all your sins... All of them.

"Who are you, damn it?" Krystos demanded in a hoarse whisper.

The voice merely laughed... and kept on laughing.

Krystos tore at his tangled hair in an attempt to drown out the noise. He started moaning softly, the mournful sound managing to still the laughter a little. Then he began to hum, a tuneless melody that relegated the taunting voice into the background.

"In a good mood today, are we?" Lorg remarked. The tall, wiry navigator had come up behind him, making Krystos realize he had stopped. He resumed walking, not bothering to answer. He realized that he had made another mistake before Lorg even began speaking.

"Nice, friendly young fellow, aren't you? Alecsis should give you a good hiding for your insolence." He brushed past Krystos, no doubt heading straight for the ex-knight to complain about the youth's rudeness. But Krystos found it virtually impossible to kow-tow to anyone.

So used to being the one in control, he found it difficult to deal with being little more than a child. His relief at leaving the ugly Moreshe behind had waned, and now he cursed his slender stature. Even Moreshe had possessed more stamina than the slight Antano.

Having Alecsis issue the orders was the most difficult burden of all. No matter how much Krystos tried to console himself with fond memories of the past, the simple fact that Alecsis now had the power to order him around, filled him with vicious hatred.

Those big, brawny arms had once been like little sticks, trying but failing to fight Krystos off. Alecsis's pain and tears had once given him great pleasure. He had enjoyed the feel of his slight body helpless beneath his, reveling in his humiliation. He had almost succeeded in destroying him.

But then the storm had struck, separating them, sending their lives along different paths. Somehow the sniveling child had become a great warrior who commanded an entire army. And Krystos had become the child, now at Alecsis's mercy. If he wanted to get home he would have to acquiesce to his lifetime enemy. The thought made him tremble violently with loathing.

As for Lorg, he felt like running the useless navigator through. How in the name of Serpon did that incompetent barnacle think he could find the way home? If Krystos never made it back, how could he claim what was rightfully his?

He remembered his flight through the dark city as though it happened only yesterday.

The preparations had been made weeks in advance, his carefully selected crew ready to sail at a moment's notice, but he'd never expected his final act of vengeance to be discovered so soon, and by the one person who had everything to gain by it. It seemed comical to him now that they had both been blamed for the deed.

"I don't care which of you did it," the slim woman at his side whispered, as they hurried down the dim alley, their shoes sloshing through slime and debris. "But only one must return, the innocent one."

Krystos glanced angrily at the boy clinging to her other hand. Yes, only one will return. Krystos vowed. Me.

"Where will we go, Mama? What will we do?" Alecsis had asked fearfully.

"Do what you've both always dreamed of. Discover wondrous lands. Listen and learn. Grow with wisdom, and return only if you're strong enough to face Roseana's judgement."

"Antano. I want a word with you."

Torn from his reverie, Krystos's eyes darted up see Alecsis fall into step beside him. If it hadn't been for the green eyes and the curling blonde locks, it could have been his own face he was staring at.

"What about?" Krystos asked, trying to dredge up a smile. It felt more like a grimace, and Alecsis's frown made him realize it had probably emerged as such.

"The way you have been acting lately," he answered. "Everyone has noticed you haven't been yourself. Ye've turned your back on Nira. That hurt her feelings, ye know. Have any strange thoughts and feelings been bothering you?"

"I was confused... " Then Krystos had an idea. "To tell you the truth, I was not sure about her right from the beginning. She's an experienced girl, and tutored me well in the ways of love, but...well... she makes me feel uncomfortable... A lot of girls have that effect on me. Ye've heard about men who cannot love women, men who love other men... I... I fear I might be one of those."

For a moment Alecsis looked stricken. He went deathly pale, and Krystos felt a small jolt of exhilaration. He still had the power to make Alecsis suffer.

"Is that what's been bothering you?" he asked softly.

"Well, it kind of makes sense," Krystos answered, trying to look like a sheepish youth.

"I do not know of the laws in my homeland, but here homosexuality is punishable by death."

"I know that," Krystos snapped back.

Luckily Alecsis misinterpreted his testy response. "I'm sorry, Tano. Your confused thoughts and feelings must be causing you great distress. I have never had such doubts, but I've heard that many boys go through a stage where they fear they might be infatuated with another man. He's usually someone older, someone they look up to..." Alecsis scratched the side of his head, at a loss as to how to continue.

"Someone like you," Krystos said, knowing that would really make him squirm.

Alecsis's features hardened, but his eyes revealed the torment within. Oh sweet salvation! Krystos thought maliciously. I've found the key. Now I can regain control.

### Don't be so sure, you arrogant bastard, his inner voice taunted, but Krystos refused to listen. "I have always felt something special for you, right from the moment we met... I think it must be - "

Alecsis stepped back, raising a hand. "Ye're misinterpreting that emotion, Tano. Ye're only seventeen. We've been through a great deal, you and I, always together, in close proximity. But that doesn't mean ye care for me in that way. Nira might have confused you. I admit she's probably not the right girl for you. She is better suited for Lorg. Ye'll find that special someone when the time is right..."

But Krystos wasn't listening any more. Alecsis was only trying to convince himself. Krystos was comfortable with his homosexuality and the joys it brought him, but it was time to resume the doting best friend act. "Fear not, dear Alecsis. My love for you will remain pure. I would rather die than risk losing your friendship. I will deal with this myself. No doubt ye're right, and 'tis just a phase I'm passing through."

"We have a long and arduous journey ahead of us. Perhaps we can talk this through whilst on board."

"Perhaps," Krystos murmured in response.

### And you believed him? Lorenso asked Alecsis, once they were alone again.

### I have no reason not to, he answered. He's confused and no doubt feeling guilty... I'm glad now I never told him what happened to me. It would only make him feel even more miserable. It is a crime here, after all.

You're so quick to see the hurt in others that you miss the darkness. If what he says is true, why has he not voiced this concern to you before? You have known each other for over two years. Why would he speak of it now?

### Because of Nira. He needed to experience a woman to realize the truth. How else would he have known? Alecsis threw his hands in the air in frustration. You think I'm happy about this. I'm the one he desires.... Surely you must realize how that makes me feel.

Lorenso laid a soothing hand against his shoulder, and Alecsis felt some of the tension lift like a morning fog.

### Maybe you're right, and it is not the spirit inhabiting his body. Lorenso said. But we must keep a close eye on him. I no longer trust him, Alecsis. Perhaps I should search his soul for evil.

### "Nay!" Alecsis said out loud. He couldn't bear the thought of his dearest friend inhabited by darkness. It's merely his confusion tainting his soul. He knows such desires are wrong. His conscience will show him the right path, that and a more suitable woman.

### Lorenso grimaced, showing his displeasure. It didn't take her long to climb into your countryman's bedroll. You would think they would be more discreet.

Nira discreet! She knows not the meaning of the word.

### They walked in silence for a few minutes, listening to the sounds of the others crunching through the undergrowth ahead of them. Twilight was approaching. Already the sun failed to penetrate the thick canopy of palms, and the path grew dim. Alecsis touched his jeweled belt, and activated the red stone that allowed him to see in the dark. His surroundings instantly brightened to midday intensity.

### And how fares it with Karina? Lorenso eventually asked.

Alecsis waited for his eyes to adjust to the sudden change in lighting before answering. He still hadn't dared venture beyond the chastest of kisses and gentle caresses. The fact that he longed for more meant he was healing. But he had no idea how Karina fared.

### Slowly, very slowly, he answered eventually. I wonder if she will ever get over what that monster did to her... Sorry. I know he was your son, but what he did was unforgivable.

I agree with you wholeheartedly, my friend. Leonado has a lot to learn before I accept him back as my son... As for Karina, only time will tell. Be patient... as I know you can be...

### Patience is my middle name.

### And talk to her about it, Lorenso continued. Show her how much you love her. That will heal the wounds within quicker than anything.

### I will, Alecsis promised solemnly.

The following afternoon they reached the end of the road. Leaving Lorg and Antano to tether the horses, Alecsis and Lorenso strolled to the edge of the embankment overlooking the Pavlo inlet. The gusty sea spray stung their faces, and whipped their braided hair about their shoulders.

Below them, the pirate camp lay in ruin. Most of the tents had collapsed from wind and rain. From this distance the bodies of the dead pirates were mere bundles of cloth tainted with blotches of reddish-brown, the marks of the wounds that had killed them.

Carrion birds wheeled and settled on the corpses. Luckily the wind brew the stench of decay away, but Alecsis dreaded having to confront his army's carnage close up. This was the first battle he had ever returned to, and it brought home the cruelty of war. For two years he had done his duty, killing the king's enemies without question. Now the carnage revolted him, making him feel physically ill.

Never again! he vowed. My warring days are over. Whatever my destiny, may it not include fighting another man's battles.

### What is it, Alecsis? Lorenso asked in concern. You're sending a whole manner of negative emotions my way.

### These cursed wars. I never want to fight again, Lorenso. From now on, consider me your apprentice. He looked at the magician, his gaze grave, but Lorenso merely smiled.

### Then let the lessons begin. Where do you suppose that ship could be?

"Ye've already scried her out, haven't you?" Alecsis said aloud.

"'Tis plainly obvious. I'm surprised ye did not see what was right under yer noses." He pointed to the water in front of the sandstone cliffs marking the other side of the inlet. Foaming white waves attacked its base, snarling and gnashing like hungry hounds. "See that indentation in the water. Does it look natural to you?"

Alecsis shielded his eyes against the sun, and followed Lorenso's pointing finger. "Well, I'll be!" he gasped on seeing the hollow in the choppy swell. "'Tis the hull of the ship, of course. How could I have missed it?"

"Too busy annihilating pirates, by the look of it. Ye created a fine mess, my friend..." He thought better of going on when Alecsis frowned at him. "'Tis behind us now... I have to think, work out how that spell was cast."

Alecsis fell silent beside him, giving Lorenso the time and space he needed to concentrate. For a few minutes he sat there focusing inwards, occasionally muttering something under his breath.

"Aha!" The mage snapped his fingers. "Watch, my young apprentice. Your transport home will shortly be revealed." Alecsis didn't want to look, and cast his eyes away as the magician began chanting and making his hands dance. As Alecsis glanced around, he saw Lorg and Antano come up behind them. With no time to warn his countryman of what Lorenso was about to do, he motioned them both down. They sank onto all fours in the swaying grass, and stared into the bay.

### Alecsis turned to do the same. He saw a swirl of colour, very much like low-lying cloud, shimmer into view over the unnatural indentation. It grew thicker, denser, and the vague shape of a ship formed in its midst. Lorenso chanted louder, forcing The Crystal Rose into existence.

It might have been one of the most magnificent ships to sail the oceans, with its sleek lines, and beautifully polished timbers, but Alecsis would always associate her with pain and torment.

As he fought against the shudders of revulsion, he heard a gasp, followed by a soft thud. Glancing around, he saw that Lorg had collapsed in a faint. Antano suppressed a giggle, and Alecsis muttered an oath under his breath.
TWENTY

STRANGE SEAMEN

"'Tis high time we told Lorg the truth about magic," Alecsis said. "See if you can bring him round, Tano." He turned back to Lorenso, who still sat with his head and arms resting against his bent knees.

Alecsis gently shook his shoulder. "Are ye all right?"

Slowly the mage lifted his head. "Aye. Merely a bit weary. 'Twas not an easy spell."

It made Alecsis realize how much difficulty the wizard would have propelling the ship across the Noiva. "I wonder if the dolphins can help," he thought out loud.

A slap followed by a groan compelled them both to turn and see Antano hit the side of Lorg's face. "Come on, wake up man."

"There's no need to beat him up," Alecsis admonished, scrambling over. "He's coming to."

The navigator's eyelids fluttered open, and he stared up at Alecsis in confusion. "I had the strangest dream," he said in Crystonian.

"That was no dream," Alecsis said in Avionan, in the hope that Lorg might use the same language for the benefit of their companions.

"It must have been. That dammed ship couldn't have just appeared like that."

"Well 'tis there now," Alecsis insisted. "There is something Lorenso and I need to explain \- "

But Lorg didn't allow him to finish. He sat up and stared down into the bay. "It was there the whole time. It had to be." Then his gaze fell on Lorenso. "I knew there was something strange about him." Lorg turned back to Alecsis. "Those tales about long-haired wizards in their black robes casting spells to alter reality... Hellfire and damnation! I thought it all superstitious babbling..." He pointed a shaking finger at Alecsis. "You've fallen under his spell. Why, you've even braided your hair the same."

"Lorenso is a wizard. That much is correct," Alecsis said gently, trying to meet the sailor's fearful, darting eyes. "But he practices magic for the good of others. It is a long apprenticeship, requiring many years of study. Not everyone can become a magician, but I would really like to try."

Lorg shrunk back, and Alecsis held up a placating hand. "I know very little about real magic. I own several enchanted items; a belt, my sword, and the boots I wear. But I have never cast a spell in my life. I was too busy destroying things." He glanced over his shoulder. "'Tis not a pretty sight. What lies in that bay is more frightening than anything Lorenso can do."

Lorg moved closer to the edge of the embankment, and peered down into the bay. "Ugh. Definitely not pretty, but from what I heard, they deserved everything they got." He turned back to Alecsis and Lorenso. "Ye don't suppose you can make all that disappear. I mean, if we find it revolting, how are the girls going to react, particularly when the wind changes direction and blows the stench this way?"

"You have a very good point, my friend," Lorenso answered, glancing in Karina and Nira's direction. Alecsis did the same, realizing that they would not be coming to view the destruction in the near future. Both women were lying on their backs, fast asleep.

"I can cast an illusion over the camp," Lorenso continued. "To make it look as though nothing is there... As for the smell, I will ensure the wind does not change direction. Now watch, Lorg. You too Alecsis. Let us see how good a memory you have."

While Antano stifled a yawn, Lorg and Alecsis moved closer to the mage, staring intently at his hand-motions. Alecsis realized that they told the story of his spell, and found himself copying him, repeating the words in his mind as Lorenso spoke them. When the magician flung his arms forward, the horrific scene below was swept away by a swirling cloud that looked like an incoming wave. Only the sandy inlet dotted with spinifex remained.

"Now I will bring the scene back. Let us see if you can make it disappear again," Lorenso said.

"Should I not start with simple spells, cantrips to practice with?" Alecsis asked uncertainly.

"Ye're beyond that stage, believe me. If we are to make this journey successfully, ye'll have to learn spells as they are required. Ye're strong, Alecsis. I would not make this suggestion if I did not think ye could do it. Now watch." Again Alecsis concentrated on Lorenso's motions and words, committing them to memory. The wave hiding the ravaged pirate camp was forced back out to sea, returning everything back to normal.

When all three men's gaze fell on Alecsis, he felt a shiver chill down his spine. This was his first spell, the beginning of his life as a mage. For a moment his mind went blank. The spell he had so clearly committed to memory seemed to have vanished into thin air. "What happens if I get it wrong?"

"Nothing. None of my spells can be confused for another. Do not worry if you cannot recall it all. I've brought my book of incantations along... Had to rewrite it all, on account of a certain young thief."

"I see I will be kept busy during those long months at sea," Alecsis remarked dryly, recalling the heavy tome in Lorenso's backpack. Over two hundred pages of tightly scrawled print, occasionally interspersed with diagrams. "I will be a hundred 'ere I'm even half-way through."

"Just cast the spell," Antano urged. "'Tis getting late."

"What are you so impatient about?" Lorg demanded. "'Tis your homeland we're leaving."

The youth merely shrugged.

"Just concentrate on the words," Lorenso reassured him. "The power will come of its own accord. 'Tis already within you. Ye've exercised it many times over."

"I have?"

"Aye. Keeping the jungle beasts at bay. Yer control over your magic items. Mageblood runs strong in yer veins. It will respond to your commands."

Lorenso's faith in him helped Alecsis recall the spell. He began to recite it, making his hands tell the story. The motions felt alien to him, and he wondered if they looked as stilted and uncoordinated as they felt.

As he worked, he felt emotion build up within him, and he realized this was the power Lorenso had been talking about. It sizzled through his veins, growing stronger with each word he uttered. Almost sexual in its intensity, it made him falter. But all he had to remember was the release word. He shouted it, flinging his arms forward, feeling the magic pour from him.

He thought he saw a white beam of light shoot from his fingers. The shimmering cloud swept in, obscuring the ravaged pirate camp from view.

A sudden burst of weariness hit him, and he slumped forward, studded by the abrupt jump from exhilarating to exhaustion. Now he knew why Lorenso always looked so tired after casting a difficult spell. Being able to harness the power within required a great deal of energy. Being younger and fitter, the weariness soon ebbed from Alecsis, and a comfortable sense of satisfaction settled over him.

"I can barely believe I did it," he murmured, rubbing his eyes in amazement.

"I knew ye could do it," Lorenso said with a grin, patting his shoulder. "Your technique requires work, but ye have an excellent memory, and the strength of faith. We shall make a first class mage out of you."

Alecsis couldn't help basking in the compliments.

"Now what was it you were saying about dolphins?" Lorenso prompted.

Alecsis told him of the creatures who had rescued and brought him to shore. "Without their aid I would surely have drowned. That was why I believed my destiny lay here on Avion. Now it seems I was saved only to return home." Then he told him of his previous sightings on the road to Lancastro.

"Hmm!" Lorenso murmured thoughtfully. "Interesting. Interesting indeed."

"Do ye have any idea what it could mean?"

"I shall have to think about that," the old mage replied. "I have never tried to communicate with animals, although my brother seemed to have an affinity with them."

"I still miss Windrider and Mageye."

"I'm sure they miss you too."

"I doubt it. All that dog was interested in was the inside of the kitchen. I very quickly took second place."

"Can ye really blame him?" Lorg teased.

"'Tis good to know who yer friends are," Alecsis muttered in return.

"So what do we do now?" Antano asked.

"Do what any smart dog would do. Have something to eat. I'm famished," Lorg announced.

Whether it was because he had returned to the Pavlo Inlet, or because he would soon be leaving Avion, Alecsis had trouble falling asleep that night. Even though the ocean breeze was cool and soothing, he lay awake under the star-spangled sky, staring up at the slowly moving heavens.

Despite everything that had happened to him here, he knew he would miss his adopted home. But more than anything he wished he could remember something of Chrystonia. No matter how much Lorg spoke of the cool, crystal continent, Alecsis could recall nothing of his youth. He had no notion of ice or snow. Did he have a family? Would they know him if they saw him? Why couldn't he remember?

Eventually he drifted into a restless sleep, slipping in and out of reality.

The dream came to him on a cloud of stardust. One moment he was lying there gazing at the night sky, the next an image appeared, hovering like a stringless marionette above him.

I must be dreaming, Alecsis thought, but he suddenly felt wide awake.

The vision took the form of a square mirror. It even had the faint outline of a gilt-edged frame. A face shimmered into view behind it. Although it remained hazy, Alecsis could clearly see that it was a woman from his homeland. She had long blonde tresses a few shades lighter than his own, and her pale features were angular but strikingly beautiful. As she leaned closer to the glass, he saw her large crystal-blue eyes peer questioningly into the mirror.

What is she looking for? Alecsis wondered, as she stared out at him. Can she see me? A slight frown marred the smooth, clear beauty of her face. She seemed to be encircled by an aura of sadness. Her intense eyes reflected a lifetime of longing and hoping.

She pressed her hands to the glass. Her fingers were unadorned. In fact, she wore no jewelry at all, and yet Alecsis suspected she was some highborn lady. Somehow he felt he should know her. Why else would she appear before him like this?

But no memory came. She remained a mystery.

Alecsis eventually dared himself to reach out and touch the vision. He extended his fingers to the edge of the frame. For a moment he thought he felt something solid, and then the image vanished, sending the woman back from whence she had come.

As he sat there in his bedroll, staring into the night, Alecsis realized he'd been awake the whole time. The woman had not come to him in his sleep. She had been a waking vision. But what could it mean?

Again he turned to Lorenso for answers, shaking the old wizard awake.

"Who? What? Where?" Lorenso muttered, sitting up with a start. "We being attacked, or something?"

### No, nothing like that. But I so have something important to discuss with you, Alecsis thought-said.

### Can it not wait till the morrow? Why wake me in the middle of the night? I need more sleep than the rest of you young pups.

Alecsis quickly explained what had happened to him before the mage had a chance to resume his grumbling.

### Interesting. Interesting indeed, Lorenso mused. I wonder what it could mean.

### I was kind of hoping you could tell me that.

### It looks very much like someone was trying to scry you out, but as learning magic is forbidden to women, that theory is ruled out.

### It is only forbidden on Avion. Chrystonia might have different laws on the matter.

### Lorenso toyed with the end of his plait, his expression contemplative. If that be the case, then yes, she might have been trying to make contact.

### But why now? Why wait so many years? Alecsis asked.

### You cast your first true spell today. I wonder if that could have something to do with it. Perhaps she now knows you're magekind. Perhaps the link simply was not strong enough before. She was trying to see across a vast body of water. which could explain why she looked fuzzy to you and why she could not communicate. He resumed fiddling with his hair. A whole manner of explanations could apply. Next time she appears wake me.

If she appears again.

### She will, the mage asserted. Now that a link has been made, perhaps we should put Leonado's glass sphere to good use. Although we cannot communicate through it, we might be able to find out where she is. It could help us find our way there. We desperately need some kind of direction.

I thought Lorg would be able to direct us.

From the stories you have both told, I deduced you took a roundabout route.

No doubt we will find out when we consult the charts tomorrow.

How do you feel about going back aboard?

### Alecsis met Lorenso's gaze, making no attempt to hide his emotions. He dreaded the task.

### No need to answer that, Lorenso thought-said. But remember this. You will be in charge this time. You have nothing to fear.

I'll try to remember that.

They made preparations to board at daybreak. Lorenso decided that the quickest way was for Alecsis and himself to fly them across one by one.

"No way!" Lorg asserted, raising his hands protectively.

"Somehow I knew he was going to react like this," the old mage muttered.

"I think I will pass also," Antano added. "There must be a boat on the shore somewhere that is still water-tight."

"Oh I forgot. Ye have an aversion to being airborne, don't you?" Lorenso remarked, recalling a particular take-off from a certain castle wall. "Your last flight almost alerted the entire township to our escape... Very well, go and find a boat, but if ye're not aboad within the hour, I will come and get you."

The two men needed no further encouragement. They scrambled to their feet and started towards the embankment.

"Simply because ye're not flying does not mean you can leave yer packs for us to carry," Lorenso called after them. With exaggerated sighs, they both returned for their belongings.

As Lorg picked his way down the steep slope, he cursed himself for being such a coward. Is not flying every man's dream? Why had he passed up the opportunity of a lifetime? When Alecsis passed overhead, holding Karina tightly in his arms, he cursed again. The pair waved, wide grins on their faces. Of course Alecsis wouldn't have let him fall. Lorenso was doing the same with Nira. Once they had deposited the two women safely on the upper deck, Alecsis and Lorenso returned for the rest of their belongings. They had everything safely on board before Lorg and Antano had even reached the sandy shore.

The wind did not blow the stench of death away here, and once again Lorg wished he had taken up Lorenso's offer of flight. Although time and scavenging animals had carried much of the smell away, it still overpowered the navigator, making him pinch his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

"I will search this end of the beach," Antano announced. He pointed to a rocky outcrop. "I recall a dry cave over there. As good a place as any to leave a boat."

Lorg shrugged. "Suit yourself." Turning his back on the youth, he set off across the beach, ensuring he stayed away from the grassy area, knowing it hid a whole manner of revolting obstacles from view. The smell was also more bearable here, the occasional gusts of wind bringing fresh bursts of salty air to his nostrils.

### He found an upturned rowboat, complete with oars, tucked in a protected niche on the other side of the bay. After some heaving and tricky maneuvering, he finally managed to dislodge it from the rocks. Pulling it down towards the shore, he examined it for damage. There didn't appear to be any obvious holes. It would hold long enough to get them to The Crystal Rose.

Now where is that unfriendly brat? he asked himself, scanning the surrounding area. "I have found a boat." he called.

Naturally he received no answer. Antano would return in his own good time. "I can wait," he muttered. "But I do not know about the others." He raised his hand in greeting to them. The girls stood at the stern watching him as he perched himself on the edge of the dinghy. Then they turned, and left, no doubt to explore the ship. For the first time Lorg found himself wondering what kind of a state the pirates had left her in. He didn't relish having to undertake major repairs. Then he remembered that they had two magicians aboard. No doubt they would be able to mend broken timbers and sew together torn sails with the mere flick of a wrist.

So that was how they planned to sail the ship - with magic. If they could read his mind, they would have laughed at him for coming to that realization at this late stage.

Perhaps they could.

"Oh spare me that inconvenience, " he said out loud. "Some of the things that pass through my mind are not fit for general viewing."

He eventually spotted Antano strolling along the sand towards him, his face unnaturally serene.

"Frolic with a few mermaids while you were away, did you?" Lorg asked coolly once he was within earshot.

"Are there such things?"

"Not that I have ever seen." Lorg's gaze followed Antano's hand. For some reason it kept returning to the hilt of his sword. Like Alecsis, he rarely ventured anywhere without his cumbersome weapon. In Crystonia they fought with cutlasses in close combat, the shorter blades being easier to conceal and carry. For distance fighting, they used muskets, flaming catapults and cannons. Their armour was different too. Made of a metal only found in the high alps, it was lighter and stronger than the heavy steel casings Avion's warriors donned.

"Your sword needs polishing. The salty sea air seems to have tarnished it," he observed. Lorg only carried the silver dagger he used for prying open oyster shells.

"I happen to like it this colour," Antano retorted.

"To match your dark moods, I suppose."

"I could have your head off in a moment," the young man sneered, his slender fingers coiling around the black sword hilt.

"Don't even think about it," Lorg warned, stepping closer. "You might achieve your aim, but there are two magic-users watching us who might not be so amenable to the idea."

The young man puffed out his slender chest. "They don't frighten me."

"They should. After what I saw yesterday they frighten the hell out of me." Why am I arguing with the immature upstart? Lorg spread his hands. "Look, I don't know what your problem is, but we're going to be holed up on that ship for months and months. We don't have to pretend we like each other, but we could at least try to work together, starting with getting in this boat."

With a shrug Antano started pushing the dinghy towards the surf.

I don't believe it, Lorg thought in amazement. One moment he's ready to decapitate me. The next he's as agreeable as a well-fed puppy. What in Roseana's name is wrong with that young man?

They all gathered on the bridge at mid-morning. Karina and Nira almost didn't make it. Exploring the ship, they became hopelessly lost on one of the lower decks. They had started with the captain's and officers' quarters, awed by the sumptuous splendour of their accommodation. Their cabins were fit for royalty, with their wide bunks, ornate furniture, and polished wood-panelled walls. Everything was nailed down, but the way things were stored in specially carved niches amazed them.

They soon came across the ordinary sailors' living quarters. They slept in simple hammocks, and would have gathered around tightly packed tables for their meals.

There was an array of equipment neither woman recognized. Nira eventually deduced that the long iron objects with wheels were weapons of some sort. "Perhaps they shoot arrows," she murmured, moving back towards the stairway.

"I wonder what these heavy lead balls are for?" Karina mused.

Further down in the hold, they found vast stores of fresh water and food, preserved in metal barrels that somehow kept everything from perishing.

"'Tis good to know we won't go hungry," Karina remarked, rubbing her stomach. Scooping up a handful of biscuits, she started to nibble on one.

"Karina!" Nira gasped. "How d'ye know they be safe to eat."

"Because they taste good. Here, have one."

The dark woman shook her head. "Don' blame me if ye get a tummy-ache later on."

"Not to worry. Either Lorenso or Alecsis will heal me."

"How d'ye feel about Alecsis learning magic?" They started down another flight of wooden stairs.

"Safer. It will make it easier for him to protect us."

"I dona..." She stopped dead in her tracks, causing Karina to stumble into her. "Oh my. Oh my. Oh my."

"What is it?"

They stood at the bottom of yet another stairway, and Karina followed Nira's pointing finger.

"The pirates' stolen booty!" she gasped, staring in awe at the overflowing chests of jewels, coins and other trinkets. "I never knew they hoarded so much. We had better tell Lorenso and Alecsis. They will want to return it to their rightful owners."

Nira slowly shook her head. "I doubt they be still alive. Do'na pirates kill everyone they steal from?"

Karina thought of that comment now, and wondered exactly what they should do with the treasure, but the men had other concerns.

Lorenso stood staring up at the rigging with a perplexed expression on his face, not paying any attention to the chatter around him.

"There is no way I can get sylphs to work on so many sails," he said eventually.

"That's what I was afraid of," Alecsis muttered, moving to stand beside him. The others also crowded round.

"Why not?" Antano and Lorg asked at the same time.

"They're simple beings, devoid of physical form and rational thought. One can control them only if their tasks are easy." The magician waved a hand in the air. "All those ropes... All those sails... There must be at least twenty of them."

"Thirteen," Lorg said. "That was why I said at least thirty men are needed to work the rigging."

"What about nymphs?" Alecsis asked.

Lorenso scratched his chin in contemplation, then shook his head. "They would have trouble with a vessel half this size."

Silence descended upon them with the weight of a heavy storm cloud, and they all stared up at the intricate network of ropes, sails, pulleys and winches.

"What about ghosts?" Antano eventually asked. "If you can summon wind and water spirits, why not the dead pirates?"

Lorenso turned to stare at Antano darkly. "Ye're talking about necromancy - dark magic. Not only is it dangerous, it goes against everything I have ever practiced."

"But it can be done, can it not?" the youth persisted.

"I believe so, but one cannot raise ghosts to do a man's job. What ye're thinking of is the raising of their bodies. Ghosts are equally as unsubstantial as other spirits."

"What if you ensure they remained invisible?" Antano suggested.

"And stink-free," Lorg added.

Lorenso shook his head. "Even if I could, 'tis wrong, very wrong."

"Let me put it like this then," Antano continued. "Not only do they know how to sail this ship, but their souls are lost and seeking salvation... By harnessing their abilities, not only do we gain, but they may even be able to redeem themselves in the eyes of the gods and find peace. The question is; how urgent is it for us to be on our way?"

Lorenso sighed. "That is something I will need to seek guidance about. Makim told me Alecsis had to return home. Perhaps She can also show us the way..."

Lorenso did not need to call on Makim for guidance. The answer to their problem came after several hours of contemplation. He had returned to the grassy outcrop of land they camped on the previous evening. Sitting cross-legged under the warm midday sun, he approached his problem methodically, quietly considering each possibility.

Bringing back the dead was out of the question, of course. What had prompted Antano to even think of that? He hoped his Goddess would not be too displeased with him for allowing the thought to cross his mind.

Recruiting new sailors seemed the only viable option. But this would be cumbersome and time consuming. After Alecsis's tentative contact with the woman from his homeland the night before, he suspected they had to move quickly.

But how?

The sylphs could not work the sails. And nymphs were too weak. Pity the spirits of the earth couldn't help.

Or could they?

Was there not a spell that summoned the aid of dryads and gnomes? Leonado had done it. In turning the rocky earth into hands, he had very effectively shackled Lorenso and his friends that fateful night in the Sirmon Ranges.

I figured out how to reverse that spell. But do I know the one that will harness the earth's energy? Have I even bothered to record it in my book?

There was only one way to find out. Jumping to his feet, he muttered a well-known verse, and sprung into the air.

Unfortunately he did not get the opportunity to consult his tome straight away. His travelling companions surrounded him the moment he dropped to the deck.

"Have you thought of something?"

"Will we be able to leave now?"

"What can I do to help?"

"Just shut up, all of you!" he yelled over the hubbub. "I have some serious reading to do before I can give you any kind of answer."

Deathly silence. But the gravity on Alecsis's face stopped him from marching to the officers' cabin where he had left his belongings. "What's wrong?"

"You know how our cabin only accommodates three. Well, Antano has decided to take the captain's quarters," Alecsis told him.

For the first time Lorenso noticed that Antano was not present.

"He is there now?" Lorg said.

"Ye're the captain now, Alecsis. Simply order him to move," Lorenso said.

### "You don't understand. If I could, I would torch that room. But the risk of destroying the rest of the ship is too great. Nobody sleeps there. I want you to cast a spell to keep them out."

"Cruel things happened to Alecsis there," Lorg offered, but he said no more when Alecsis cast him a poisonous glare worthy of a jungle beast.

"What is wrong with that young lout?" Lorenso muttered.

"I will make him leave the cabin now," Alecsis asserted. "As soon as he's out, you do whatever it takes to make that room inaccessible."

Lorenso could understand Alecsis's anger, and did not bother to reprimand him for his stern behaviour. He followed him to the captain's quarters, where Alecsis promptly kicked in the locked door. It took only a moment for the brawny young man to evict its occupant. Propelling the indignant youth into the corridor with a firm hand around the yoke of his tunic, he shoved him away from him. While Antano regained his balance, Alecsis returned for the youth's belongings. Tossing them onto the wooden floor, he pulled the door shut, then turned the key in the lock.

"I will throw it in the ocean. Now make that room disappear," he ordered. His face red with fury, Antano scooped up his backpack and stalked off.

"Perhaps it will make you fell better if you cast the spell. 'Tis little different to the illusion over the pirate camp. Watch and repeat after me. I will keep my body free of mana to ensure you cast the spell properly." After so many years of spell-binding, Lorenso had considerable difficulty stopping himself from drawing on the magical energy within.

Once again Alecsis copied his words and motions, and when he flung his hands forward, not only did the doorway cease to exist, but the entire wall as well. An empty space took its place.

"If only I could banish the memories as well," Alecsis said, his shoulders slumping. He cast haunted eyes at Lorenso.

The old wizard stepped up to him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Only time will do that, my friend."

"Time," the tall man mused. "I wonder how long it will take to cross the Noiva. I still don't know how many years I spent at sea."

"Well, if ye'll allow me to consult my spell-book I might be able to give you some indication." He started walking along the passageway, but Alecsis remained standing in front of the empty space that had once been Captain Rose's cabin. "Come along then. If I have this spell, ye'll help me to execute it. If I don't we are up a creek without a paddle, or in this case, at sea without sailors."

Alecsis groaned as he fell into step beside him. "Humour does not become you, Lorenso."

"And magehood has turned you into a cantankerous bore. It comes with the territory, unfortunately."

Alecsis cuffed him on the shoulder, almost sending him reeling over the railing. Steeling himself, he turned to glare at the grinning man.

"Sorry. Sometimes I don't know my own strength... But there is something I will throw overboard." With a hefty hurl, he sent the silver key arching high into the air. It landed so far away, neither man heard its splash.

While Alecsis and Lorenso were consulting their spell-book, Lorg busied himself in his old chamber. He had once lived, slept, and eaten in this tiny cubicle. With only a small square window to bring him daylight, it now felt claustrophobic. Sitting in his creaking swivel chair, he contemplated taking all his navigational equipment up to the covered bridge area. Now that there were only six of them, they would need the charts at their disposal when they took turns at the wheel.

But first he had to work out if his old charts were of any use to them. His successor had been lax in his recordings. When he saw his own messy scrawls several pages back, he felt as though he had come home. This was his life, the mapping of the seas and rivers, the recording of distances traveled, wind direction and velocity, heavenly movements. Lorg sighed, and read over his last entry.

### Everything had been flowing smoothly, the wind steadily blowing them south. No land had been sighted for several weeks, but the sailors spirits remained high. After sating themselves on a tropical island inhabited by amorous native girls, seemingly without menfolk, the crew of The Crystal Rose were almost jovial. Lorg had rutted along with the rest of them, moving from one pretty dark maid to another. The women had found the sailors as fascinating as they did them, comparing their rich mahogany skin to the men's fair complexions. Only Captain Rose had not partaken in their romping. He had busied himself by talking the natives out of considerable amounts of fine gold jewelry.

The sailors wore out their welcome soon after. The women might have been without men folk, but they were not stupid. Skilled with their spears and short, curved knives, they maimed several sailors before they managed to escape.

Their jaunts on land always ended badly. Captain Rose had simply been too greedy for amicable negotiations. "You got yours in the end, though, didn't you?" Lorg said out loud. "Now Alecsis is in charge, the last person anyone expected to survive that fierce storm."

In all his years as a navigator and sailor, Lorg had never seen anything as vicious as the tempest that almost killed him. He should have known it hadn't been natural. Now that he had seen magic at work, he realized that Alecsis was right; a sorcerer had been responsible, the same evil little individual that had taken over the ship, and sent his nasty cohorts down here to deface Lorg's work.

With jerky movements, he tore the last entries from his book. Then he rifled through his maps, removing those drawn by the intruders. They were of no use to him anyway. Lorg had no need for charts documenting Avion's rugged coastline.

Nira wandered in about half an hour later. Lorg became aware of her presence when she ran her fingers through his short, spiky hair.

"I wish ye wouldst not sneak up on me like that," he growled.

With a smile she slipped onto his lap. The swivel chair creaked noisily in protest. "Lorenso told me to come down here to fetch you. He says he hath worked out how ta sail the ship."

She began to kiss him. Her soft, moist lips entwining with his, reminded him of the women on the island, those sensual days under the tropical sun. He thought of the many whores he'd bedded in Lancastro. Not one had managed to warm his heart. Nira was the first woman since his wife he felt something for, something more than mere lust.

That thought forced him to extract himself from her embrace. "Much as I desire you, Nira, did you not say Renso wanted us on deck?" Hadn't he vowed to keep his life free of emotional entanglements? How could he devote his time to his children if he had another woman to consider? Nira was too damn persuasive by far, wearing down his resolve.

"He can wait," she murmured.

"Cut that out you two, and get up here," the mage's authoritative voice bellowed from all four corners of the room.

Lorg swore. "Is nowhere sacred abroad this ship?"

"Not when there are more pressing concerns than those which fill your trousers." This time Alecsis's deep voice filled the room.

"Damn you, Lorenso, for showing him your dirty tricks," Lorg muttered disgruntledly.

"He is a fast learner, is he not?" Lorenso said.

"Too fast for my liking," Lorg grumbled. "Come on, Nira, let us find out what they want."

They found everyone waiting for them on the bridge. A cooling afternoon breeze had sprung up, its freshness welcoming after the hot confines of his cabin.

"How well do you know the working of those sails?" Lorenso asked him, his previous comments forgotten.

"Well enough to issue directions," he answered. "Every seafaring man knows how to sail, just as they learn how to read maps and plot a course. It's a necessity in case someone falls overboard, a regular occurrence, I'm afraid."

"How long do ye think it would take for us to learn?" Lorenso asked.

"Not long. A few days."

"The reason I ask, is that we cannot leave you up here to issue directions indefinitely. We should all take turns at the wheel, and controlling what takes place aloft... That is the right word, is it not?"

Lorg nodded.

"That includes Karina and Nira," he continued. "I want you to keep someone by your side until they know how to direct the golems."

"What are golems?" Lorg asked.

Lorenso glanced at everyone in turn. "Your sailing companions." He raised the volume he had been hugging to his chest. "It took a while for me to work out how it could be done, but golems are creatures created out of earthly substances. They have no minds of their own, their very existence subject to the whim of the magician. Alecsis and I will summon them. Once they are aboard, it is up to whoever is at the wheel to direct them in their chores... First thing in the morning we set sail." He turned to Lorg. "Have ye worked out which direction we should take."

"North, of course. As for the exact course, I need to spread out my maps, and retrace our journey. I've made a start, and don't think it should be too difficult. We came steadily south, occasionally changing course to visit land."

"Good," the magician asserted. "Why don't you bring them up on deck, and start teaching the girls how to read them. I need to talk with Alecsis and Antano alone for a few minutes."

It was then that Lorg noticed the grim look on the youth's face. What on earth was bothering him now? No doubt he was still seething about being evicted from his chosen chamber. Anyone who knew Captain Rose would refuse to set foot in his domain. Perhaps Lorg should explain a few home truths about life at sea to him.

I will have to do something about claiming my new host soon, Krystos thought, turning away from the two magicians. Both had taken turns in reprimanding him for commandeering the captain's cabin.

"Nobody else wanted it," he had replied with a nonchalant shrug, trying to appear indifferent about the entire incident. Inside he seethed with vicious indignation. How dare they treat him like a little boy? He had returned to his cabin after Alecsis had so rudely evicted him, and something akin to pain twisted his heart when he saw the empty space. His home, and they had destroyed it with their magical whims.

### You will pay for this, Alecsis. You were without The Holy Avenger all day today. Soon, when nobody is looking, I will kill you, destroy your puny mind, and take over that strong body you think is so invincible. With me inside, it will be. Yes, only one would return, me.

He wandered down to his new chamber. At least he had the room to himself. The first officer's cabin was almost as large as the captain's, but nowhere near as plush. Krystos threw himself on the bed. Nowhere near as comfortable either. but after so many nights out in the open, it felt good to have a mattress underneath him again.

Only one thing worried him more than the loss of his cabin, and that was the blackouts. The taunting voice inside his head seemed to have been replaced by moments of disorientation. They only lasted for a few seconds, but that was long enough to concern him.

### He couldn't help wondering if it had something to do with Dragonfire, but the sword had been inactive since he picked it up. The dark weapon needed fresh blood to survive, and for many weeks it had lain in a cave without a drop to drink. Krystos did not let this concern him unduly. The first kill would bring it back to life. Perhaps he would murder everyone on board and be done with it.

Karina found out what golems were the following morning. Her head still spinning from Lorg's impromptu sailing lesson, she rubbed bleary eyes. She had not slept well. Still not used to being on board a vessel that constantly moved beneath her, she had lain awake for most of the night. After her initial feast on the biscuits, the thought of eating anything now made her insides squirm in protest. She couldn't help wondering how she would fare once they were out of the protected inlet. I suppose I will know soon enough, she thought, following Nira up to the main deck.

She was surprised to see the pirate's stolen treasure glittering in the early morning sunshine. Some still in chests, the rest of the jewels had been dumped in untidy heaps on the deck.

"So that was what all the noise was about at the crack of dawn," Nira observed, moving to stand beside Lorg. He stood by the railing, watching Alecsis and Lorenso bent over the old wizard's thick black volume.

"I've forgotten how many times I trudged up and down those stairs, lugging all that stuff on board," the tall sailor answered, slipping a wiry arm around her waist.

"What be it all for?" she asked, as Karina came to stand on her other side, her stomach still churning despite the tangy nip of the fresh morning air.

Lorg shrugged. "Looks like we're about to find out."

The magicians turned towards them. Although Alecsis still wore his tight fitting warrior garb, the black cloak and braided hair made him look like a true magic-user.

"Is everyone ready?" Lorenso called out.

"Ready for what?" Lorg demanded.

Karina realized suddenly that Antano was missing, On cue the youth darted up on deck, still rubbing sleep from his eyes.

"Ye mean to tell us ye slept through all that commotion?" Nira asked him.

"I couldn't even wake him, no matter how loudly I knocked," Lorg answered. "Rotten brat locked his door last night, didn't he? I still have bruised knuckles as proof."

"Sorry," Antano muttered. "I guess the motion of the ship did the trick. I never slept so well in my life."

"Will ye stop yer chattering and pay heed?" Lorenso snapped. "We don't have all day." All eyes fell on him. "Prepare to meet your fellow sailing companions. Are ye ready, Alecsis?"

The big blonde nodded, and Karina's insides squirmed again. Not from nausea this time, but with emotion. Together they were leaving the past behind. Soon Avion would vanish into the ocean mist, new worlds beckoning.

Lorenso started the chant, but Alecsis soon took over, as the gray-haired man beckoned to the shore. At first nothing happened. Karina wasn't even sure what should be taking place.

And then she saw them, shapes forming in the air above the sandy shore. But what were they made out of? She soon got her answer. Trailing bits of bark, sand, and leaves, these vaguely human shapes slowly drifted through the air towards the ship.

The deck started to shiver. She stared down at the treasure, It seemed to be moving of its own accord, turning into a squirming, sparkling sea. Suddenly pieces jumped free. Coins, gems, jewelry sprang into the air to merge with the human shapes settling on the rigging and masts.

"So those are golems," Antano remarked.

"Well, I'll be!" Lorg murmured in awe, shading his eyes to stare at the strange seamen. They shimmered and gleamed with their treasure adornments. Not a single gem remained on deck.

"So a use was found for the pirates' booty after all!" Nira exclaimed. "How clever!"

"What is really clever is what they can do for us," Lorenso called to them. "Lorg, direct those at the bow to draw in the anchor."

"They will really listen to me?" the navigator asked uncertainly.

"Try them," Lorenso suggested, folding his arms across his chest. "But keep it simple. One job at a time. They will not respond to complicated instructions."

Lorg did was he was told. The golems quickly attended to his bidding. The tall sailor was soon issuing orders left and right. Rigging creaked as sails were unfurled, blowing free to catch the wind. The anchor was reeled in, and the ship began to move towards the open ocean.

Their journey had begun.

### About the author

Emma Daniels lives in Sydney Australia, with her husband and two young children.

Emma wrote her first romance novel when she was sixteen, typing it up on an old manual typewriter. She hasn't stopped writing since.

She is also a jewellery designer, selling do-it-yourself jewellery project kits.

She loves reading romance and fantasy novels.

Emma can be contacted on email address; emmadaniels@tpg.com.au

### Other titles by Emma Daniels also available

### The Prisoner Within

### Heartbreak Highway

Lord of my Dreams

### The Indian Rose

### The Dreamspell

### Ghost of a Chance

### Giving up the Ghost

### Entwined

### Gold fever

### Judging Jayden

