 
Blood of the Righteous

By J. E. Sandoval

Copyright 2011 by Jim Sandoval

Smashwords Edition

ISBN: 9781301575022

DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to the memory of Anthony Fischera, one of my early beta readers. He was the inspiration for Bishop Malachi. I'm sorry, my friend, that you never got to see the final product. May you rest in peace.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

A big thank you to Radio Rivendell (www.radiorivendell.com) for blocking out the noise of the world and helping me write

Thanks to my editor, Jennifer Robb. Your contributions were invaluable.

Thanks to my proof-reader, Susan Hawk. Thanks to her, grammar nazis will no longer cringe while reading.

Special thanks to my friend and cover artist, Steven Till (http://www.steventillonline.com).

And the biggest thanks of all to my loving wife, Erica Lynn. Without her encouragement, this book would never have been finished.

Follow me on Twitter @Antibingo

Like my Facebook Page: J. E. Sandoval

Email me at JimSandovalOnline@gmail.com

* * Introduction * *

A thousand years ago a son of perdition, for reasons unknown, performed a ritual to open a portal to hell itself. However, his demonic incantation quickly grew beyond his control. The fires of hell poured down upon the earth in what has come to be called the Rain of Fire. The upheaval was cataclysmic. Mountains rose where cities stood. Parts of the land sunk into the sea, while land rose out of the ocean. Rivers shifted. People and beasts were touched by the dark powers and changed.

A knight of the time rode into the heart of the maelstrom. Sir Michael, a Knight pure of heart and clean of spirit, led a group of his fellow knights and bravely fought the sons of perdition. When the battle was over, there had not been a single loss among their number, but the sons of perdition were slaughtered to the man. The portal had closed.

The knights returned to a much different world. A full third of mankind had been killed in a matter of hours. Most of the monarchies had been destroyed. There was only one institution that was decentralized enough to escape destruction: The Holy Church.

A month later, Sir Michael and his men stood before the newly elected Pontiff. They were given special commission by the church, to which they swore their service. They became Knights of the Order of Holy Defenders.

Through their efforts, they brought forth law and order across the land. People had very little left, and they turned en masse to the church. The ranks of the Holy Defenders grew. Gradually, the world returned to normal.

* * * * * *

Snow blowing in her face, Janelle Argos made her way through the lightly dusted streets of Avonshire, her companion, Holle MacLeod, a Caledonian Highlander, following in her footsteps. Janelle was tall for a girl, two fingers short of six feet. She was also broad shouldered, muscles honed from the constant martial practice with her older brother, Felix, who last week had left Avonshire to join the mercenary army, The Free Company, as their father had before. Janelle now lived alone, a girl of fifteen, on her own, and already with a reputation not to be trifled with.

The pair made their way towards the University, the only place of higher learning on the island of Avalon, and it was run by the church. Their destination was an inn right outside the University's gates. Every year two weeks before Christmas, the Scholar's Inn hosted a King's Table tournament. While that kind of event normally wouldn't interest Janelle, rumor had it that a girl had entered this year, something absolutely unheard of.

"Do you know anything about this girl who entered the tournament?" Janelle yelled over her shoulder.

"Aye! Her name be Eleenia Ki Kalendeen, second year student at the university. She be studyin' ta be a healer."

"Ki Kalendeen. Why does that name sound familiar?"

"Her Da was Lord General fer King Edgar Northcott before he died. He's the one who knocked down the bloody walls of Denning."

Janelle nodded. "That's right. He's Lord of Lystra now, isn't he?"

"Aye. Bloody shame he retired early. He supposedly knew what his enemies be going ta do before they did. Bloody brilliant strategist, he is."

"Then it stands to reason this Eleenia inherited his intellect?"

Holle chuckled. "Aye, that be a safe bet."

The pair arrived at the Scholar's Inn. They quickly darted inside, the welcoming warmth washing over them. The inn was crowded, with standing room only. Janelle kicked the snow off of her boots and hung her cloak on a wall peg, revealing her blue shirt and brown doe-skin pants, a bold choice of wardrobe for a woman. She untied the quarterstaff across her back.

Holle was wearing a traditional highland kilt of yellow and black tartan. A bow and quiver were strapped on her back.

Janelle surveyed the crowded room. The tournament had already started. She made her way over to the betting table, a path forming for her. Holle followed in her wake.

Men eyed her, those who knew of her were a bit wary. Meeting their gaze, Janelle scowled. Best to bolster that reputation.

"Place your bets!" a man behind a table yelled, chalk board filled out with names and numbers. Janelle silently cursed her inability to read.

"Ooh," Holle said. "We be in luck! Eleenia has no played her match yet. Odds be heavily against her. Fifty to one!"

Janelle balked. Those odds were unheard of. Reaching into her coin purse, she counted out all the silver she had brought with her. "Five silver on Eleenia Ki Kalendeen."

Everyone around her got quiet for a few seconds, then began to laugh.

"Are you sure you want to make that bet, lass?" the man asked in a mocking tone.

Janelle leaned in, her knuckles on the desk, looking the man in the eyes. "Are you ugly and deaf?"

The man blinked a few times. "Alrighty then! Five silver on Eleenia Ki Kalendeen, at fifty to one!"

"I'll be puttin' two silver on her too." Holle said, placing the coins on the table.

"Two silver, fifty to one." The odds man turned around and erased the fifty next to a name, replacing it with a twenty-five.

The girls made their way back into the crowd. "So," Janelle said. "Where is the girl we bet on?"

Holle scanned the crowd. She pointed. "That be her, the well-dressed lass arguin' with the Holy Defender initiate."

Janelle followed Holle's hand. This Eleenia was five feet, seven fingers approximately, had long black hair and alabaster skin. Her dress was red and gold, and looked to be of the highest quality. She was probably sixteen or so. The lad she was arguing with was wearing the tell-tale white tunic, black trousers, and green cloak of a Holy Defender initiate. His hair was also black, and he had a resemblance to the girl, most likely an older sibling. Janelle made her way closer.

"Gabriel," Eleenia said, "I'm not going to bow out of this tournament!"

"But it's improper, a woman playing in a tavern tournament," the initiate shot back.

"Give me one logical reason why you don't think I should compete! Just one!"

The initiate looked exasperated. "Hello! You're a woman!"

Eleenia crossed her arms. "I said a logical reason, not an appeal to a ridiculous tradition, which will hopefully be soon outdated!"

Janelle smirked. "Oh, I like her, Holle." The pair made their way to the arguing siblings.

"What would Father say if he were here?" the initiate continued.

"Probably 'I'll bet ten gold on Eleenia.' I wrote to Father and he wished me good luck in the tournament!"

"Marcus Henderson, Eleenia Ki Kalendeen! Time for the final match of round one!" the caller shouted.

Gabriel grabbed Eleenia by the arm. "Come on. You're forfeiting."

As fast as lightning, Janelle struck the initiate on the knuckle with her quarterstaff.

Gabriel pulled his hand back and shook it, wincing in pain.

"Sorry to do that to you, lad, but I've got silver bet on your sister. Let her compete."

The initiate glared at her. "And you are?"

Janelle held her head high. "Janelle Argos."

The initiate sneered. "I've heard of you." He took a threatening step towards her, however Janelle did not back down. "You dare to strike me again, and we are going to have it out."

Janelle shrugged, unfazed. "I've bet a week's wages on Eleenia, and you were about to throw that bet into the garbage."

"Please, Gabriel," Eleenia said. "You don't want this poor girl to starve, do you? Is that a very Christian attitude?"

Gabriel pursed his lips. "Fine. But I won't stay here and watch you make a fool of yourself." The initiate turned and left the inn.

Janelle half smiled. "Sorry to butt in to family business. I'm Janelle Argos." She extended her hand, which Eleenia shook enthusiastically.

"Eleenia Ki Kalendeen. Thank you so much for your timely intervention."

"I be Holle MacLeod," Holle said, extending her hand, which El shook.

"Pleased to meet you. Did you really bet on me?"

"Five silver at fifty to one," Janelle said.

"Aye, and I be bettin' two silver."

"Eleenia Ki Kalendeen, report to the table now!" the caller shouted.

"Well, Miss Argos, Miss MacLeod, let's go earn you some gold." El walked over to the table and sat down.

"She be seemin' friendly," Holle said.

Janelle nodded. "Well, I suppose it never hurts to make friends with a noble."

The match began.

"So ye be hearin' from Felix?" Holle asked.

"Yes. He made it to Gillingham yesterday. Sent a Pigeon Post. He's been accepted into the Free Company and been assigned to the scouting unit. He said one of the Majors is going to retire in a few months, and that Father is a shoe-in for the position. Felix also said he's going to send me half of his pay."

"Bloody nice of him."

"I hope someday to tell him I don't need the money anymore, and be able to pay him back."

The caller raised his hand. "Winner, Eleenia Ki Kalendeen in four moves!"

"Yes!" Janelle shouted. She realized that the entire tavern had gone quiet and all eyes turned to her.

Eleenia looked back her way and winked.

"That is the end of round one," the announcer yelled. "We shall take a ten minute break so the odds on the remaining six competitors can be recalculated."

Holle rubbed her chin. "Looks like the odds on Miss Ki Kalendeen now be ten ta one."

Janelle chuckled. "Glad we placed our bets early."

Eleenia returned, confident smile painted across her face. "And thus began my first step in shaming the alchemists of old!"

Janelle blinked, non-comprehension painted across her face.

"Alchemists used to try to change lead into gold. I'm doing so with your silvers!"

"Oh, now I get it."

The blonde, middle-aged barmaid came over to the three. "Can I get you girls anything to drink?"

"I'll have a light ale," Janelle said.

"Same," Holle answered.

"Cherry phosphate," El said.

The barmaid nodded and hurried off.

"Phosphate?" Janelle questioned. "Do you have something against alcohol?"

Eleenia chuckled. "Oh, not at all, but alcohol tends to dull the wit. I want to stay sharp. Look at it as me being careful about your investment. However, I do intend to celebrate my victory in this tournament with a sweet wine."

"Ah."

"Time for round two!" the announcer yelled. "Charles Tippet and Tristan Porter!"

The two men sat at the table, the board having been reset.

Janelle noticed Eleenia carefully studying the game.

"Oh, poor opening move!" El said.

"Why be that?" Holle asked.

"In moving his king's side bishop's pawn, it completely exposes the king. If Mr. Porter has any skill at all, he'll..." She paused, as Porter moved his king's side knight. "And... Porter's first win was likely a fluke. An equally bad response."

"Ye be knowin' this game pretty well," Holle noted. "Who be teachin it ta ye?"

"That would be my father. We used to play endless games of strategy together. Naturally, he would almost always win, but I learned from my defeats. One time, I actually beat him!"

"How did he take that?" Janelle asked.

"He was so proud of me. He said it was the first time he's been beaten in as long as he could remember."

The barmaid brought their drinks.

El dug out a few coppers. "Here, drinks are on me." She handed it to the barmaid.

"Wow! Thanks!" Janelle said.

"Aye, thank ye!"

Eleenia continued to eye the board. "This game is going to be over in three moves."

They waited in silence. While Janelle was at a complete loss as to the rules of King's Table, she still watched the board. Sure enough, three moves later Tippet had won.

"Winner, Charles Tippet! Reset the board! Next match, Eleenia Ki Kalendeen and Fredrick Spangler."

Eleenia chugged her drink and set the cup down. "Be right back." She headed off to the table.

Janelle took a drink of her ale. "That girl is making me seriously rethink my disdain for the nobility!"

"Aye," Holle agreed.

The game lasted less than five minutes.

"Winner, Eleenia Ki Kalendeen!"

"Woohoo! Go Eleenia!" Janelle yelled, not realizing the inn had become silent once again. She proudly chugged the rest of her ale.

Eleenia practically skipped back over to the pair.

"Next match, Randle Watson, reigning champion, against William Prince."

Janelle eyed last year's champion. He had an arrogance about him that made her feel uneasy.

"Congrats again, lass," Holle said.

"Thank you! So Holle, I noticed you are Caledonian. Do you feel safe walking around in an Elgannan city with the war going on?"

"Oh, aye. Ye see, I be from one of the highland clans near Inverness. The clans be stayin' out of the war. It be the mess of the lowlanders and Gylinians."

Eleenia jumped as Watson pounded his fist on the table. Fortunately, the table's sturdiness kept him from upsetting the pieces.

"Bit of a temper on that one," Janelle said.

El smirked. "Just wait until I thrash him."

The match went on for a half hour.

"Winner, Randle Watson! Next game in five minutes. Eleenia Ki Kalendeen against Charles Tippet. The winner will face Master Watson for the championship!"

A bit of concern rose in Janelle's gut. "Hey Eleenia, if Watson looks like he is going to get violent, stay behind me."

El blinked. "Why? He wouldn't dare raise his hand to a noble woman, would he?"

"Doubtful, but still. I have a bad feeling."

Watson went over to a bald, chubby friend of his. They were chatting, motioning over in Janelle's general direction.

"Ye expectin' trouble?" Holle asked quietly.

Janelle shrugged.

"Charles Tippet and Eleenia Ki Kalendeen!"

El walked over to the table and sat down.

Janelle motioned to Holle to move closer to the match. Slowly, they made their way to the front of the crowd.

Eleenia was using the black pieces, which outnumbered their white counterparts. She moved a piece.

"Exposing your bloody queen like that? Who the hell taught you how to play this game, girl?" Tippet spat.

"Bray all you like," El shot back. "Victory shall be mine shortly."

Tippet chuckled and moved a piece. Sure enough four moves later, Eleenia had won.

"Victory, Eleenia Ki Kalendeen!" the announcer shouted. "Reset the board! Randle Watson, Eleenia Ki Kalendeen for the championship!"

Watson and his friend sauntered up to the board. "Hello, little girl! You ready to get your behind paddled in front of all these good folks?"

His chubby bald friend chuckled.

"El here's going to be the one laughing when this is all through," Janelle interjected.

"Oh?" the bald man said. "Care to put your gold where your mouth is?"

Janelle held up her betting voucher. "I already put all I could afford on her."

Eleenia counted out two platinum and five gold, handing it to Janelle. "You're covered. You win, we split the winnings."

Janelle shrugged. "Deal!" She slapped the coins down on the table.

"After you," El said. She was using the black pieces, Watson the white.

Watson moved a piece out on the side of the board.

"Benko's opening! Interesting choice," Eleenia commented.

"Is that supposed to impress me?" Watson asked.

"No. It was a bold move, strategically." She moved a piece on the board.

The game went on for several minutes.

Watson grinned and moved his castle looking piece, taking one of Eleenia's smaller pieces. "And first blood is mine."

El smirked and moved another black piece, which caused some people watching to chuckle.

Watson shook his head, laughing, capturing another one of Eleenia's small pieces. "Queen takes pawn. You really aren't very good at this, are you, girl?"

El moved one of her horse pieces to an empty place, causing everyone watching to gasp. The girl cocked her head and smiled.

Watson looked to be growing agitated as his eyes bulged, his jaw locked, and he gripped his chair.

Janelle looked to Holle.

"He now be havin' ta decide if he wants ta lose his rook or his queen. Both pieces be extremely valuable!"

"Come on, Master Watson," Eleenia said with a smirk. "Queen or rook? Which one are you going to lose first?"

"Don't toy with me, girl!" Frustrated, he moved his queen out of the way.

El chuckled and captured his queen with another piece that moved diagonally all the way across the room.

The crowd gasped again.

Watson was practically growling. He captured the piece that had taken the queen.

El calmly then captured his rook.

Watson pounded on the table in frustration. "Damn it to hell!"

"Good thing you didn't knock the pieces over with your fit. You would have forfeited."

Her opponent moved another piece. "A woman has no place in a King's Table tournament! You should be at home learning to take care of babies!"

El studied the board. "I don't need to know about babies to spot an oncoming temper tantrum." She moved another piece. "Checkmate."

The crowd gave off sounds of profound disappointment, some men ripping up their betting tickets.

Watson stood up. "No! You cheated! I demand a rematch."

El stood and bowed her head. "Next year, if you make it to the final game, you shall have one."

"No, damn you! You distracted me! I demand one now!"

Janelle tightened the grip on her staff as her fight or flight instinct kicked in.

The caller raised his hand. "Winner and tournament champion, Eleenia Ki Kalendeen!"

Watson upended the table with a yell.

Eleenia backed up, victorious look turning to concern, as did the rest of the crowd.

Watson stepped in and grabbed Eleenia by the arm, twisting it.

Janelle swung her staff hard and hit Watson in the nose, breaking it. The loud snap could be heard throughout the room.

Holle grabbed Eleenia and pulled her out of the way.

"You dare lay a hand on my new friend?" Janelle said, standing in a defensive position.

"This ain't your fight, Argos!"

"I'm making it my fight."

Watson pulled out a dagger and swung.

Janelle spun her staff, knocking the swing wide. She then kicked him in the knee and jammed the end of her staff into his throat.

Watson went down hard, hand on his neck, trying to breathe.

Janelle turned to his bald friend. "And I believe you owe us some gold?"

Behind her, she heard movement. People's eyes went wide. Out of instinct, she jumped to the side: however, the knife Watson had swung sliced along her left forearm, pain shooting through her.

Janelle began to see red. In a flurry of blows, she pummeled her outmatched opponent, landing strike after strike. Finally, she brought her staff up, hitting him hard in the groin.

The entire male population of the inn groaned.

"Janelle!" Holle yelled. There was a twang of a bow and the bald friend screamed out.

Janelle turned. He had tried to blackjack her, but Holle had shot him in the knee. Holle nocked another arrow, pointing it towards the crowd. "Anyone else?"

The door burst open.

"Town watch!" someone yelled.

People began to scatter, running out of the inn.

El was at her side in a heartbeat. Grabbing a clean cloth napkin, she gently wrapped it around Janelle's wounded arm. "Come on. We need to get you fixed up."

A watchman approached them, "Alright, what happened here?"

Four people began speaking at once, pointing at Janelle and Holle.

"Excuse me," Eleenia interrupted, chin held high. "These brave women came to my defense when that lout attacked me after losing the tournament. This woman is wounded, and I need to tend to her immediately."

The watchman looked to his supervisor who nodded. "Alright, you can go. But you," he said to Holle, who still had her bow out, "I need to have a word with you."

"Everyone not involved must leave," the town watch commander said. "The Scholar's Inn is now closed for the day!"

"Closed?!?" the blonde barmaid said. "Commander, I must protest! My husband and I need to make a living!"

"Come on," El said. She led Janelle out of the Inn.

Janelle noticed her blood was splattering a bit through the napkin as Eleenia held pressure on the wound. "Oh, sorry! I'm getting blood on your beautiful dress!"

"I can always buy a new dress. Now, the infirmary is on the other side of the University. Maybe we can..."

"I live two blocks away, and I've got plenty of stitching kits!"

El blinked. "You do?"

"My father and brother are members of the Free Company."

Another well-dressed lad, who looked to be about nineteen, came jogging over. He had thick brown hair and had an aristocratic look about him. "El, what happened?"

"Joshua! Some oaf threw a tantrum when I beat him at King's Table. This is Janelle Argos. She came to my aid and subdued him, but she was wounded. I need to get her home. Also, a bald man who took an arrow to the knee owes us fifty gold. Oh, and a red-haired Caledonian girl wearing a yellow and black kilt assisted in my defense."

Joshua smiled and bowed his head to Janelle. "Thank you for your intervention on behalf of Eleenia. You two go get her stitched up. Don't worry, El. I'll straighten things out of with the town watch and make sure Miss Argos gets her gold." He opened the door of the inn and darted inside.

"Which way to your house?" El asked.

Janelle motioned north and the two headed off, Eleenia still keeping pressure on her wound. "Who was that Joshua fellow?"

"Joshua Branvold. He is next in line to be the Lord of Kheog."

"Really? He seemed so... I don't know... normal."

"He's a good man, and a dear friend. And if he says he is going to make sure you get your gold, then count yourself richer."

They arrived at her house. Within fifteen minutes, Eleenia had her wound stitched and cleaned.

"You know," El said, wrapping her arm in a bandage. "You are extremely skilled with the staff. Have you ever considered teaching anyone?"

"Um, no, I haven't."

"If you are willing, I would very much like to learn how to fight. I'll pay you, of course! And teach you something in return!"

"To read and write?" Janelle asked, excitedly.

"If you'd like."

Janelle nodded. "How's three silver a lesson sound, as many times a week as you'd like?"

Eleenia tied off the bandage. "Deal! Now, mind if I make us some tea?"

"Have at it!" She watched as Eleenia, a noble woman, made her way around the kitchen, obviously not a stranger to taking care of herself. Another belief about nobles confounded, and here she was, waiting on a commoner!

Janelle sat back and smiled. Not only was she richer in terms of money, she would finally learn to read, to make a positive contribution to someone's life, and most of all, she felt like she had made a very good new friend. All in all, it was an excellent day.

* * * * * *

The winterized carriage rolled along the village road towards the gate that marked the entrance to the city of Kheog. David Ki Kalendeen, a boy of fourteen, looked out of the window up at the city's walls. It was one of two times a year he and his family made the three-day journey to visit the city to spend some time with the Branvolds, the family of Lord Zareth Branvold, Lord of Kheog.

The gate guard noticed the sigil on the carriage, nodded to the driver, and ushered him and his four passengers inside.

David leaned back. Directly across from his was his blonde-haired older brother, Alexander Ki Kalendeen IV, the next in line for the lordship of the city of Lystra. Their black-haired, green-eyed mother sat next to him wringing her handkerchief, Lady Arianna Ki Kalendeen. On David's left sat his father, Lord Alexander Ki Kalendeen III, former Lord General of His Majesty's armies. That was until the king had died. His heir, King Nicolae, who now sat on the throne of Elgannan in the city of River's End, had a huge falling out with Lord Alexander over his marriage to the king's sister, his mother.

"So I hear that Joshua Branvold has graduated and is due home any day now," Arianna said.

David's brother smiled. "Good. I've missed him."

David shook his head. When Alexander and Joshua were together, they always teamed up on David and his best friend, Liam Branvold, also fourteen years of age.

Lord Alexander gave David a sidewise look, noticing the head shake. "I don't want this to be a repeat of every other time we seem to get together. Can you two please, PLEASE, keep the antics down this time?"

"I will make and keep the same promise I always make. I shall start nothing," David said.

Their dad glared at Alexander.

"Father, don't take his side! I'm innocent of these accusations!"

Lord Alexander chuckled. "Just remember, Mareth already has agreed to marry you. There is no further need to impress her by tormenting David and Liam."

"And Lady Branvold and I have a lot to discuss if we are going to pull this wedding together in three months," Lady Arianna chimed in, a hint of worry in her voice.

David's attention turned back to the outside. The city of Kheog was a center for trade and agriculture, unlike Lystra, which was industrial. The wheel-and-spoke pattern of Kheog's streets also contrasted to Lystra's grid layout. Kheog was also an older and larger city. David looked at the commoners going about their daily lives. Occasionally, one would meet his gaze and wave. David always waved back. If there was one thing his father had drilled into his head, it was that people, no matter what their station in life, deserved respect. And that gold earned is more worthy than gold inherited.

"So I got a Pigeon Post from Eleenia," Lord Alexander said.

Their mother perked up. "Oh? What did she say?"

"She won a King's Table tournament, and made a few new friends. One of them is the daughter of a Captain in the Free Company. She is going to teach El how to fight with a staff."

"Hmph," Alexander said.

Their father glanced at Alexander, but did not address the comment.

"I say good for her," David added.

Father smiled and patted David on the back.

Truth of the matter was that he missed his sister. El was David's best friend, and his partner in crime. She was definitely the most intelligent of the four Ki Kalendeen children.

"I'm guessing Gabriel didn't approve," Mother said.

Their father shrugged. "It's Gabriel. What are you going to do?"

David chuckled. While he hadn't been close to his older brother Gabriel, who had left to become a Holy Defender, he still respected him. However, David was amused with his black and white view of things.

David's mother visibly shuddered.

"Is something wrong, dear?" Lord Alexander asked.

"I don't know. Just an odd feeling came over me. Like this is the final time I am going to visit Kheog."

Lord Alexander chuckled. "I'm sure it's just nerves over planning the wedding."

Arianna nodded. "You're probably right."

The great central market of Kheog came into view, where people would come from all over the countryside and villages to buy or sell their goods. Beyond that was Castle Branvold. Among the guards and servants by the front doors of the castle, two people waited: Mareth Branvold, Alexander's fiancé and the future Lady Ki Kalendeen, and David's best friend, Liam, bouncing in place.

Lord Alexander glanced out his own window. "I don't like the look Liam has in his eyes. He looks a little too eager to go looking for trouble. David, I want you and Liam to carry the big trunk up to the guest suites."

Alexander smirked.

"Yes, Father," David replied. He knew better than to complain. Their father always would lecture them on how their station in life was a matter of chance, and it made them no better than anyone else, in spite of being nobility. A complaint over manual labor would certainly bring on a lecture.

The stage came to an abrupt halt. Servants opened the door and began unloading the luggage on the roof.

A blast of cold air from outside hit David. He pulled his cloak more tightly around himself.

"My sweet Mareth!" Alexander said as Mareth threw herself on him.

"I've missed you so much, love!" the brown haired Mareth said. They began to kiss deeply.

David looked away, his attention caught by the large trunk that two servants struggled to haul down from the roof.

Lord Alexander helped Arianna down from the carriage as he addressed the trunk- carrying servants. "I want my son and Liam to carry that trunk."

"Yes, Lord Ki Kalendeen," the servants said, obviously relieved. They gently set the trunk down.

Liam stopped bouncing and looked to be ready to protest.

"Good afternoon, Ki Kalendeens!" Lord Zareth Branvold said, exiting the castle. He was three fingers taller than David's father, with short cropped brown hair. He shook Lord Alexander's hand and gave Arianna a friendly hug. "Come on! I have all your rooms ready..." his voice trailed off as he led David's parents into the castle.

David exited the carriage and stretched.

"David!" Liam said excitedly. "Good to see you! What do you want to do first?"

He glanced sideways, David saw that Alexander and Mareth were still kissing. Good. Maybe they would stay distracted.

"Let's get this trunk business out of the way."

Liam sighed and took one end of the trunk. David took the other and they lifted.

"God's wounds! What did your mother pack in here? Bricks?" Liam asked.

"Aww, what's the matter, girls? Is the little trunk too heavy?" Alexander asked mockingly.

Mareth laughed.

Alexander walked over to the pair. "Here, let me give you a HAND!" He reached down the back of either of their pants, grabbed hold of their smallclothes, and pulled up.

"Ow!" Liam yelled.

David merely winced in pain and sighed.

"Enjoy picking that one out, Pudd!" Alexander said, using his derogatory nickname for David.

Mareth laughed all the harder.

"You are going to regret that," David said emotionlessly.

"Alexander," David's father called from inside the castle. "Leave them alone. Come on!"

Alexander and Mareth walked inside the castle, both laughing.

David shook his head. "Come on. Let's get this upstairs. Then we'll plot our retribution."

An evil smirk crossed Liam's face as the two began to carry the heavy trunk up to the guest suites.

"So I heard Joshua was due back soon," David said as they hauled the trunk up the steps.

Liam rolled his eyes. "He got in this morning. Started bragging how he saved Eleenia from two ruffians who got violent when she beat one at King's Table."

"Um, from what I understand, her new commoner friends did. Two girls. One is the daughter of a Captain in the Free Company, and the other is a red-headed Caledonian Highlander."

Liam perked up. "Ooh, I like redheads!"

"Maybe this Equinox when we start University, we can meet them."

Liam chuckled. "You and your thing for strong women. Mother is going to be seriously disappointed if you don't at least try to make something happen with Serena."

"Never going to happen. Skipping University to go to that finishing school? That just screams high maintenance and drama. Besides, she has a thing for Alexander."

"Who is going to be married to my other sister in three months."

The two heaved the chest to the landing on the second floor.

Liam wiped his brow. "Mind if we rest a few minutes?"

David shrugged. "Sure." Leaning against the wall, David observed several servants going about their business, a woman collecting linens, and a grimy chimney sweep, with his cart filled with soot and ashes, brushes hanging from hooks on the side. An idea formed in his head.

"Excuse me, Mister Sweep, sir?"

The sweep raised his eyebrows, amused. "Oh, sir, is it? What can I do for you, m'lord?"

"Can we have a bag of your ashes?"

A large smile grew on Liam's face as understanding of David's revenge plot dawned on him.

The sweep shrugged and began filling a sack with ashes. "Do I want to know what this is for?"

"A matter of honorable retribution," David said with a smirk.

"Ha!" the sweep said. He filled the bag to the brim and handed it to David. "Good hunting, m'lord."

David bowed and set the sack aside. "Thank you, sir.

"Come on, let's get this trunk settled."

Five minutes later, the pair returned to the sack, which David picked up. "Do you think they'll be out in the stables yet?"

Liam laughed. "Of course. We should get a bucket of water first."

"Yeah, fresh from the shallow well, so it is nice and cold!"

David followed his friend, bag of ashes in hand, as he made his way towards the kitchen.

"So how's Gabriel doing?" Liam asked.

David shrugged. "Fine, I suppose. He wrote to Mother last week. I guess one of the two other initiates he has been assigned with keeps running his mouth and getting them all into trouble."

"Isn't his mentor someone from the upper crust?"

David nodded. "Tobias Endicott. His father is King Tyral, the king of Aragil, another fellow middle child. He and Gabriel get along well. I guess the trouble maker in the group is the oldest grandson of old man Pinkerton."

Liam raised his eyebrows. "Really? It's not often you hear the oldest running off to be a Holy Defender."

"It's more frequent within commoner families, where the oldest doesn't have a lot to inherit."

"How about the third fellow?" Liam asked."He is the middle son of Lord Rothschild, the Lord of Avonshire. Apparently he is a goody-goody and Gabriel is sure is going to pass all his tests."

The pair arrived at the large castle kitchen. Currently, everyone was running around getting ready to serve the evening meal. The aromas of the cooking food made David's mouth water. Trying to stay out of everyone's way, they made their way past the great hearth, where a cook was basting two sides of beef, which looked almost ready.

"Mmm. Beef tonight, eh Geoffrey?" Liam stated.

"Oh, aye, Master Liam. Roasted to perfection just as m'lord likes," the cook replied. "Can I help ya with anything? A biscuit to hold ya over, perhaps?"

"No thank you, Geoff. Just getting a bucket of water."

The cook nodded and went back to the beef.

The two lads made their way over to the well spouts. Several buckets and cauldrons were scattered around. Liam selected a bucket, placed it under the shallow well spout, and began to pump. After a few seconds, water sloshed out of the spout and filled the bucket.

Hoisting the bucket, Liam gave David an evil grin. "To the stables!"

After pulling their cloaks tight, the two boys headed towards the rear of the castle, out into the castle yard. A light wind blew, causing the lightly falling snow to swirl about.

David motioned to a pair of footprints heading out to the stables. The two followed them, snow crunching beneath their feet.

As they approached the stable, they could hear Mareth giggling inside.

Liam gave a quiet snort of laughter. As quietly as they could, the two crept up to the stall next to where the couple had taken private refuge. The black horse in the stall nickered. Liam put his hand on the horse's snout and pet him, causing the beast to settle down.

"But Alexander, it's dirty out here," Mareth complained.

"My love, this is the only place we can have a bit of privacy! And just think, in three months, we won't need to sneak off to have privacy."

"Mmm," Mareth said. "Then after our wedding, off to Crystal Falls! It will be so elegant. I hear the sunrise reflects beautifully off of the quartz walls."

David nodded, and Liam stood and dumped the bucket of water over the stall wall with a splash.

Mareth gave a startled yell.

"Why, you little..." Alexander started to say, when David emptied the bag of ashes with a *POOF*.

"Revenge is ours!" David yelled out as he and Liam took off in a sprint out of the stables, leaving a wailing Mareth behind.

Alexander gave an enraged yell, chasing after the pranksters.

David ran through the snowy castle grounds, Liam right beside him. He took a quick glance behind him, seeing Alexander covered in soot and ash, barreling towards them.

"Oh dear!" David said, still running at full speed. "It seems we've upset that chimney sweep... Oh, wait a minute! It's the great, dignified Lord Alexander who seems to have encountered a spot of bother!"

"I'm going to kill you, Pudd!" Alexander yelled.

Liam started to laugh.

"Run, Liam, he's going to spank us with his chimney brush!" David said.

Liam was overcome by a fit of laughter and stumbled. David, however, kept running.

After about twenty feet, he looked back. Alexander had caught up to Liam and was struggling with him on the ground. For an instant, David considered going back and helping his friend, but caution won out over valor, as Alexander would most likely easily be able to take both of them.

He turned and continued to run. Upon rounding the corner, he was clotheslined across the chest by Liam's older brother, Joshua.

David landed on his back in the snow, stunned.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" Joshua said, grabbing David by his tunic and hoisting him to his feet. "Trying to escape a good thumping, I'd imagine." Joshua began walking David back towards Alexander, who had Liam pinned.

"Joshua, you don't want to get involved. Not now. Not at this point!" David warned.

Joshua smirked. "Well, since Eleenia isn't here to come up with your fiendish plans, I'll take my chances." He began to forcibly walk David over to Alexander.

"Speaking of Eleenia, I heard you said you saved her from a few ruffians," David said.

"You're damn right! I taught those two a lesson they won't soon forget."

David chuckled and shook his head. "Taking credit for the deeds of two commoner girls. While being a liar is bad enough, there is nothing worse than stolen valor. Some Lord of Kheog you'll turn out to be."

Upon reaching Alexander, Joshua foot-swept David and held him down, maneuvering his knees onto David's wrists. Liam was similarly at Alexander's mercy.

"These two little privy-rag stains dumped water and ash on Mareth and me!" Alexander raged.

Joshua tried not to chuckle. "So what should be their punishment?"

"I'd say a damn good thumping! But only beat on their chests and legs, so we don't leave a mark."

Joshua nodded in agreement.

David winced and braced himself for the beating that was on its way.

* * * * * *

Doing his best to ignore the dull achy pain in his chest, arms, and legs, David ran the pine branch over the snow, smoothing it out, making it blend in with the rest of the sea of white that was Castle Branvold's grounds. He glanced over at Liam, who was rubbing his chest, looking dejected.

"David, why don't we just call it quits," Liam suggested.

David balked. "You've got to be joking! We need to exact retribution!"

"But Eleenia isn't here to help us plan it!"

"We don't need El's help to best those two buffoons! Now put on your big boy smalls and think. Where would they be?"

Liam rubbed his chin. "Hm. I doubt we'll be seeing Mareth for two hours or so, given her cleaning ritual."

"I'm not interested in Mareth. She has paid in full already. I want Alexander and Joshua!"

Liam shrugged. "Probably down in the laundry, since Alexander most likely didn't bring too many changes of clothing."

David tossed his pine branch aside, looking over the trap. Satisfied it was acceptably obscured, he nodded. "To the laundry then. Follow my lead."

Heading into the castle, making sure they avoided either of their families, the pair made their way through the castle to the entrance of the castle laundry. The heat that poured up the stairs was extremely welcoming as they crept down the stone stairs.

David squatted low to peer into the room, and sure enough, Alexander and Joshua were there, bragging to the ten or so laundry girls about their triumph over their younger brothers. As luck would have it, their backs were to them. David got Liam's attention, pointed to him, then to Alexander, followed by a 'pull the pants down' motion.

Liam grinned and nodded.

They continued down the stairs. Several of the women looked over towards them. David held his finger up to his mouth, indicating he wanted them to be quiet.

Trying not to smile, the girls subtly nodded, pretending not to notice the boys.

Quietly they skulked.

"I'll tell you, ladies," Alexander bragged. "Those two now know not to cross us. The beating we rained down on them is one they won't soon forget."

"Wow!" A girl said. "So strong and manly!"

Joshua and Alexander stood puffed up and proud.

"And you should have seen me save Eleenia," Joshua continued. "She was set upon by these five ruffians who were angry she made them lose a bet. I jumped into the fray and single handedly..."

"Now!" David yelled.

As quickly as possible, David grabbed hold of Joshua's pants, while Liam grabbed Alexander's and they pulled them down around their ankles, exposing their smallclothes. Quickly they turned and ran amid the high-pitched cackling and laughing of the girls in the laundry as the now red-faced older brothers tried to pull their pants back up.

"I'm going to kill you, Pudd!" Alexander roared.

"Don't worry, Brother," David yelled from the stairs. "I doubt any brought their magnifiers, so your little, and I mean little, secret is safe!"

"Lord Alexander, the teeny!" Liam chided.

The pair darted up the stairs as their older brothers managed to rectify their pants, chasing after them.

Trying not to laugh, David made his way through the castle, Liam right on his tail, out into the yard.

"Remember, weave!" David yelled.

Liam nodded. The pair began to weave back and forth in a serpentine pattern.

Alexander and Joshua, still red faced, barreled out of the castle doorway, giving chase.

David and Liam ran past the stables and made a right, weaving in and out. Glancing over his shoulder, David saw that their older brothers were still in hot pursuit. Past their trap they ran. Glancing back, he could see their pursuers gaining, when suddenly, they disappeared in a puff of white, the snap of pine branches, and a pair of startled yells.

"ARGH! DAMN YOU TWO!!!" Joshua yelled.

David and Liam stopped, turned, and looked back, both grinning ear to ear.

"Lord Branvold, Operation Manure Pit has been a resounding success!"

Liam broke into laughs. "And I know that hasn't frozen up yet!"

Manure-covered hands appeared at the edge of the pit as the older brothers began to claw their way out.

"We need to get to safety now!" David said.

"It's almost dinner time. They'll all be in the main dining hall." Liam replied.

As quickly as possible, the two darted off into the castle, quickly discarded their winter robes, and ran in, sitting down at the main dining table in their usual plates, doing their best to look as innocent as possible as the rest of the families stared at them.

Lord Ki Kalendeen sighed and shook his head. "David, what have you two been up to?"

"Nothing," he said, feigning innocence.

Serena wrinkled her nose in disgust. "What is that smell?"

Alexander and Joshua charged into the room, covered from chest to foot with manure and other garbage caked onto their clothes.

Everyone stared in disbelief for a second when Lord Branvold busted out laughing, soon joined by the rest of the families and the staff, with only Lady Ki Kalendeen abstaining.

"Father!" Alexander yelled.

Lord Ki Kalendeen stood and held up his finger. "Not one word from you two!" He looked to Lord Branvold. "I'll handle it this time." Pushing in his chair, he stomped over to the two manure-covered young men, grabbed them by the scruff of their collars, and turned them around, leading them out of the dining room. "I am getting so tired of this! You let your younger brothers get the best of you time and time again! You are our heirs! You are supposed to be better than this! And I thought it was bad when Eleenia was still here!"

David and Liam looked at one another in triumph, which was short lived as Lady Ki Kalendeen sat down next to them, glaring at them, not a hint of amusement on her face. "Boys, I am very disappointed in you."

"But, Mother," David said.

"No! No 'but, Mother,' I don't want to hear it. I am sick of this constant rivalry you have with your older siblings. Your father and I won't be around forever, and your siblings are the only ones you are going to have to count on! You can't continue like this, David! Now, just let that sink in a bit." She stood and went back to her seat next to Lady Branvold.

David sighed. "Well, it is going to be a long ride back to Lystra."

Liam smirked. "I know, but just realize this. We won."

* * * * * *

Lord General Lexar Sagaroth sat in the dark room, irritation evident on his battle-scarred face. The dream-message from the Great Necromancer said midnight, on the 26th day of Emberlight, which was almost two hours past. The hard wooden chair was beyond the point of uncomfortable and the air was starting to get thin. The only light in the room came from candles on the floor, which had burned down to nubs. A century's worth of dust covered the ground, his footprints the only disruption to the snow-like blanket. The hot, musty smell of this forbidden room added to the discomfort. Yet, he waited.

This was the first time he was to make the journey to the City of the Dead. He had served the Sons of Perdition since his 15th birthday, so long ago. They were the ones who pulled the strings, manipulating monarchies and clergy on the island of Avalon, perhaps over the whole of Midgard. Slowly, he had made his way up the Aragil network, along with advancing through the ranks of the Aragil army, all the way to the rank of Lord General. He reported directly to Master Kendall, the chief advisor of King Tyral Endicott, the king of the small landlocked nation. Only now was he deemed worthy enough to be brought before the Great Necromancer. The rumored power over life and death could be given to him as a reward for his service. What other reason could there be for this summons? No one deserved it more. He was looked upon as one of the greatest generals in the history of Aragil. Earlier in his career, he had been stationed at the border near the Devon swamps. He had never lost a battle in his 20 years as a commander, although the swamp dwellers were not what he considered formidable opponents. On the battlefield, his enemies would be struck down with ease, riddled with fear. 'Being one hand over two legs tall with bulging muscles did have its advantages,' he thought. One year ago, the King had made him Lord General and given him the fortress of Ironshield in the east. His duty was to guard the border against the Elgannan armies, even though Aragil and Elgannan had been at peace for as long as he could remember.

'Not bad for the orphaned son of a peasant farmer', he thought. The King of Aragil had given him full reign in Ironshield. Thousands of troops were under his command, and the people hailed him as a great hero, and yet he wanted more.

Suddenly, the candles dimmed. A strong feeling of terror washed over him as the room started to recede. Without warning, he felt himself wrenched in a direction he did not know existed. A rushing sensation overtook him as he was hurtled through the void. Floating in the deepest darkness, he felt completely alone. His head swam and nausea swept over him. The feeling of movement passed quickly and he was abruptly brought to a halt. He opened his eyes to survey his new surroundings.

The smell of incense rolled over him and he stood up with a startled yell. Three black-clad figures encircled him, their arms stretched upward and their heads thrown backwards, looking as though they had just undergone a great strain. They started to relax, all staring at him intently, faces hidden by their hoods.

One of the figures spoke. "Lord Sagaroth?"

Sagaroth glared at him and nodded.

"I am Kesmond, senior apprentice. Lord Kadeus will see you now. Please follow me."

The figure turned and walked towards a doorway. Sagaroth quickly followed.

Sconces hanging from the walls lit the room. Beautiful paintings in golden frames hung every few feet.

The hallway widened, ending at a pair of black doors, which swung open as the black-clad figure approached them. A breeze blew from the chamber beyond. Sagaroth hurried through the doors as they started to close.

A sickly yellow light that seemed to come from nowhere lit the entire room. The vaulted ceiling reached at least twenty legs above him. A black carpet ran from the door to a throne on the other side of the room. Skeletons were propped up alongside the entire length of the carpet, wearing tattered, rusted armor and wielding battered weapons of every variety. They had all been set up to look like they were standing at attention. When several of the skeletal figures turned their heads to look at him, Sagaroth was seized by panic. Listening to legends about undead was quite different than standing face to face with a walking corpse, its eyeless sockets staring right through to the very soul. Using every ounce of discipline he had gained throughout his many years of military service, he managed to maintain his senses. He took a deep breath and he walked calmly towards the being seated on the throne.

The throne itself looked as though it was made of gold. Gems of unspeakable value were worked into it, glistening in the yellow light. Atop the throne sat another hooded, black-clad figure with a gold sash running across the length of his chest.

Sweat started to trickle down Sagaroth's face. "Lord Kadeus?" He was thankful that his voice didn't quaver.

The figure pulled back the hood with fat little hands revealing a balding man with a sweaty, toad-like face. He jumped down from the throne, looking almost comical. "Lord Sagaroth!" Kadeus walked over to him, giving him a courteous bow. "I've heard so many good things about you. It's nice to finally meet you in person."

'So, this is the Great Necromancer,' Sagaroth thought. The top of Kadeus' head came about half way up Sagaroth's chest. The feelings of fear and dread he had a few moments earlier were replaced by an effort to keep from laughing out loud at the toad-faced little man. "Likewise, my lord." Kadeus flashed him a wide smile, revealing overly white and sparkly teeth. The contrast was just too much. Sagaroth couldn't contain himself any longer, and he burst out into a deep, resounding laugh.

The grin on Kadeus' face dissolved into a look of disgust. "Let me assure you, you will find me a formidable enemy if you upset me." Sagaroth started laughing louder, knees starting to buckle. Kadeus started to turn red with anger. He shot his hands up and muttered some arcane words. Suddenly, there was a flash of yellow light and Sagaroth felt like he was seized by hundreds of hands in a massive death grip. Looking down at his body, he could see nothing but the sickly glow around him. Unable to move on his own, he was forced down to his knees. Amusement was quickly once again replaced with the unfamiliar feeling of fear, and despite all his effort to the contrary, a small yell escaped his throat.

"Why do you make me do this?" Kadeus sighed. "You military types are all alike. I wanted us to have a relationship of mutual respect, but now I guess I shall have to resort to intimidation. Very well." Suddenly, Sagaroth couldn't breathe. The invisible hands around his body constricted. Pain shot through his body and the world around him began to recede as the blackness of unconsciousness swept over him. Just as he was he was about to pass out, the magic force that held him let go. He took a long, labored breath and realized that he was lying on his back. Kadeus stood over him, sweat dripping from the end of his bulbous nose onto Sagaroth's forehead.

"Now maybe you'll take me a little more seriously."

"Of course, my Lord Kadeus," Sagaroth said groggily as he climbed to his feet. While he should have been upset at the attack, he had been impressed with the raw power Kadeus seemed to hold, a power that would one day hopefully be his.

Kadeus gave an arrogant smile and hopped back up onto his throne. "Now, on to the matters at hand." He snapped his fingers and a tall, lean apprentice brought a rolled up piece of parchment, followed by a shorter, nondescript man with a black eye. They unfurled it across the ground at Sagaroth's feet, revealing a map. "Thank you, Dryn, Dameus." He looked curiously at the shorter apprentice. "Dameus," he said, motioning to his eye. "What happened?"

"Béarnaise happened," Dameus said.

Kadeus looked confused. "Béarnaise... which one is he?"

"The fat ginger from southern Gaul we just took on. It seems he has an unnatural talent for being able to channel source energy. First day of Raw Power, he animated a corpse, and it back-fisted me and took off screaming."

Kadeus' confusion turned to amusement. "His first day? What a remarkable feat! Promote him out of Raw Power into Focus Control."

"But, my lord, most junior apprentices spend five years..."

"Damn it, Dameus, I said promote him!" Kadeus replied forcefully.

The two apprentices gave short bows and walked to either side of the gold throne as Kadeus turned his attention back to the Lord General. "Now, as to why you were brought here. There are several reasons. First, to reward you for years your service."

Sagaroth's eyes lit up. "Am I going to be given the power to raise the dead?"

Kadeus bit his lip. "Well, that power isn't exactly ours to give. The ability to reach into the source of our power is inborn. You either have it or you don't." He turned to the right. "Dameus, test him, will you?"

The black-robed man stepped down from the throne platform and extended his right hand to the large general.

Sagaroth clasped his hand.

"Hm. Nothing," Dameus said. "He can't touch the source." The necromancer returned to his place.

Profound disappointment washed over Sagaroth.

"I'm sorry, General," Kadeus said. "But realize the ability to touch the source is extremely rare. However, I have another reward for your service. Your immediate superior in our network, Master Kendall, has been killed."

Sagaroth's disappointment ebbed as his curiosity was piqued. "Oh? When did this happen?"

"Not long ago. However, my first apprentice, Tolinar, has identified you as the perfect person to take his place as the head of the network. This puts you in our inner circle, General. This is a great honor."

Sagaroth smiled. Yet another promotion to add to his accomplishments. "I accept your offer, Lord Kadeus."

"Good. Now, over the next few days, you shall be our guest so we can bring you up to speed on your new position. You will be working directly with my first apprentice, Tolinar. Time is short, and we have a very... ambitious plan. You did prepare for this as you were instructed, didn't you? We don't want you to be missed by your people."

"Don't concern yourself over it, Lord Kadeus. I've left word I am going on a hunting expedition," Sagaroth explained.

Kadeus nodded. "Good. To other matters then. As you well know, Elgannan has been at war on and off with Caledonia and Gylinia for several generations. The war has started to take hold again, and this time the tide is turning against Elgannan. With the army occupied to the north, now is the perfect time to strike. I want to extend Aragil's borders to the Eastern coast, adding Kheog, Lystra, and New Portsmouth to its list of trade centers."

Sagaroth looked up and stared at Kadeus in disbelief. "Surely, you're joking. I can't take my armies across the Elgannan border without a direct order from King Tyral. The king is not a warrior, and he relishes the peace he's kept with Elgannan."

The necromancer waved his hand dismissively. "Do not concern yourself with the king. He has been dealt with."

"How?"

Kadeus slowly shook his head. "While word has not gotten out yet, Tyral's health has been deteriorating by design. Two days ago, Prince Eric, the heir-apparent, was killed in a hunting accident. Unfortunately, that is how we lost Master Kendall. Upon hearing of the death of his eldest son, it was too much for him. The king died this morning. Given that his second son Tobias is a Holy Defender initiate, and thus ineligible to reign, this places very close friend of our... cause... on the throne. The king's third-born son, Price Dorian."

A smile slowly crept across Sagaroth's face. He knew of Prince Dorian's disposition toward the Aragil / Elgannan treaty. He had met the prince once, and was very impressed with him. The feeling had been mutual. With Dorian on the throne, the face of the world could change. Sagaroth glanced at the map, puzzled. "To what end is this military conquest? What is your ultimate plan? Accumulation of power?"

"Such a myopic view of the world, Lord Sagaroth." Kadeus snickered, giving off several snorts. "At this time, it is necessary to keep everything in place, and several factions are a threat. One of these threats is to be dealt with by you. We must cut off Elgannan's supply of iron by removing three cities from its control. With Prince Dorian on the throne, you shall have no problem conquering the lands I have specified."

"I do not share your optimism, Lord Kadeus. I foresee two problems, two very influential families." Sagaroth pointed to the city of Kheog on the map. "The Branvolds..." His hand moved to Lystra. "...and the Ki Kalendeens. These families MUST be eliminated if any attack is to succeed. If we attack while Lord Alexander Ki Kalendeen and Lord Zareth Branvold are present, a massive army will be raised in a matter of days. Worse yet, they are both in very high standing with the church. A few weeks after the attack, our troops might be set upon by Holy Defenders. There will be far more bloodshed than necessary, assuming we could win at all."

Kadeus stared at him doubtfully. "Are you certain of this?"

Sagaroth looked up from the map. "I leave magic and creating undead to you. Leave matters of war to me. Tell me, have you ever even seen a battle, Lord Kadeus?"

Kadeus scratched his sweaty chin. "I apologize, Lord Sagaroth. The master gives us all different gifts. From what I have heard, someone as...unworldly as I should not question your knowledge of military matters. So, we must remove these two lords from their manors. What about the Lord of New Portsmouth?"

"Lord Eddington? He is a spineless weasel, more interested in gossiping at court or fretting around his castle over self-induced crises." Sagaroth shook his head. "No, he will not be a problem. But Ki Kalendeen was the Lord General to King Edgar, then King Nicolae, briefly, after Edgar died. He has seen countless battles, and Branvold not many less. The word from Caledonia is that armies led by those two were all but unstoppable. Branvold's armies could smash through any line, and Ki Kalendeen would know what his enemies were going to do before they did. These two and their families must be put down."

"Do you have any ideas on how this is to be accomplished?"

"First, I shall need magic support from you. Second, I shall need extremely loyal stealth troops. My men could be recognized. Third, I need special weapons for my best warriors. If you can provide these to me, I will eliminate both families."

"All these things will be provided to you. I shall send Dameus back with you. He is my second apprentice and he can 'raise' the dead quite well. That will take care of your first two requirements. As for the third..."

Kadeus turned and nodded to Dameus, who mumbled something angrily under his breath and quickly left the room, shaking his head. A few seconds later, he returned with an ordinary-looking broadsword and scabbard, handing them to Sagaroth.

As Sagaroth touched the hilt of the sword, a rush of energy filled every bit of his very existence. The hilt and guard turned to bone, which melded perfectly to his grip. The sword itself grew dark as fire grew out of the glowing red arcane runes that ran along the length of the blade. Black and vile with the worst feeling of evil he had ever encountered, yet alive with raw power, his very soul felt as if it were on fire.

"I hope you like your new gift," Kadeus said. "I call it a Hellfire Blade, as it was forged in the very fires of Hell itself. It will practically ignore armor and slice through flesh and bone as if through warm lard. You shall never grow weary in battle while you wield it, and if the situation is desperate enough, the Blade can call forth the fires of Hell to engulf any and all opponents. I must warn you, use that power only if your survival depends on it. Staring into the fires of Hell will have a very negative effect on you. The blacksmith that created this blade was able to make very few of these weapons before he went insane and killed himself, begging forgiveness from..." The necromancers mouth twisted, as if he had just sucked on an over ripe lime. "From the master's enemy." Kadeus spat on the floor in disgust. "Now, as to when this strike will occur."

Sagaroth looked up from the blade, drunk with the raw, demonic power emanating from the sword. "On the 30th of Frostwane, the perfect opportunity will present itself..."

* * * * * *

"David, wake up," the gentle voice said. A hand gingerly shook his shoulder.

Groggily, he opened his eyes and pushed the blankets back off his face. The cold chill of the castle air that entered his lungs contrasted sharply with the soft warmth of the bed, covers piled three high atop his body. His nanny, Jolina, stood over him, excited smile draped across her grandmotherly face. "Oh, Nana, just a little longer. Please?"

She shook her chubby finger sternly at the young man. "David Ki Kalendeen, you get out of that bed right now. We mustn't keep everyone waiting. The sun has been up for quite some time now, and master Alexander wants to speak to all of the members of his wedding party in an hour. Your mother and Lady Branvold have been planning this marriage for seven months, and it will not be ruined by the likes of you!" Her tone softened a bit. "I've had Drake draw a nice warm bath for you. If you sleep much longer, you won't have time for breakfast."

The warm bath did sound inviting. "Yes, Nana." Slowly and uncomfortably, he got out of bed. Every muscle in his body ached, amplified by the sudden feeling of the crisp morning air washing over him. The day before, the Branvold family and their servants had arrived at Lystra for the wedding of Mareth Branvold and his oldest brother, Alexander Ki Kalendeen IV. He and his friend Liam had spent the past evening sparring with practice swords, trying to outdo one another in feats of strength, and running through the entire castle. They had played for several hours past their bedtime, as they always did whenever they were fortunate enough to see one another. The city of Kheog was three days' journey to the west, so they only saw each other four or five times a year.

His feet hit the cold stone floor with a painful thud. He bowed his head to Jolina, as he had always been taught to respect his elders, even if they were servants. "Thank you, Nana."

She gave him a warm smile, patted him on his shoulder, and walked out the door, closing it gently behind her. David had a lot of affection for Jolina, as much as he would have for his own grandmothers, had he known either of them. She had been Nanny to the Ki Kalendeens for two generations. She was hired to first take care of his father, the now Lord Alexander III, then his uncle Rameus, born six years later, who was now a Holy Defender. She also took care of Alexander IV, his brother Gabriel born three years later, his sister Eleenia two year after that, and now him. David was the youngest, born two years after his sister. Everyone thought Jolina would retire after David, but she was thrilled with the possibility of serving the Ki Kalendeens for a third generation. His brother Alexander had always wanted a large family, and he and his new bride were planning on having a child within the first year of their marriage, if it was within the will of God.

A shiver swept over him as the chill of the floor seeped into his previously warm feet. He walked over to the door of his private bath, and as he opened it, a flood of steam poured out of the little room. Quickly darting in, he closed the door behind him so as to not let any more heat escape than necessary.

The warmth of the water overtook him as he lowered himself into the tub. Slowly his muscles began to loosen and the pain ebbed out of them. Leaning back, he closed his eyes and tried to picture what was going on in the rest of the castle. His mother would be running around like a mad woman, shouting orders at the servants, trying to make everything just right for the wedding. His oldest brother, Alexander, would be taking his morning horse ride around the grounds on his horse, Skylark, despite his mother's objections. Knowing his father, he would still be asleep. The Branvolds would be asking if there was anything they could do to help, being told promptly by his mother to stay out of the way. Servants would be darting here and there, getting the wedding feast ready, hanging decorations, thus adding festive coloring to the dull gray of the castle.

There were only two things missing, his brother and sister, Gabriel and Eleenia. Both of them were twelve days' journey away at the Archbishop's University in Avonshire. Gabriel was undergoing training to become a Knight of the Holy Defenders. Eleenia was being educated to become a healer. At least one day, she would return to Lystra, but the life Gabriel chose would never permit that, unless it was in service to the Archbishop. It was common practice for the younger siblings of a family to join the church, if they could not marry into another wealthy family. The oldest son received the lands and the Lordship when the father passed away. The remaining children were given nothing, and often told to leave the castle. Sometimes they were forcibly removed, depending on the mood of the eldest son. If they were allowed to remain, they would be well taken care of, but have no power nor say in their life whatsoever. Alexander promised that when he took over as the Lord of Lystra, all of his brothers and sisters would be welcome to stay and they would be given the position of advisors, something very uncommon, but not unheard of. The practice of the younger siblings joining the church had led to a lot of corruption over the past few centuries. Spoiled children of nobles usually didn't make good clergy, often having several illegitimate children. According to Gabriel's last few letters, the Archbishop had been busy rooting these corrupt people out of the clergy, but he was not always as successful as he liked to believe. Gabriel had also said that he hoped David would come to Avonshire when he came of age in two years to join the Holy Defenders. He said it would be for the best. That was one of the only problems he had with Gabriel. He always thought he knew what was best for everyone. Still, David had not ruled it out. But he had a year and six months left to make his decision. Liam Branvold would probably go. If that was the case, he probably would, too. A good many stories surrounding the Holy Defenders centered on two knights who had joined the order after being lifelong childhood friends. However, most of the stories ended up having one of the two knights die.

"Master David...." Drake had brought his breakfast into his bedroom.

"In a few moments, Drake."

"Please hurry, Master David. After Master Alexander's meeting, your father wishes to see you in the courtroom."

Father wished to see him? How strange. And in the courtroom, none the less. David was never allowed in the courtroom, especially when his father was judging cases. With the exception of his brother Alexander, none of the family was permitted in the courtroom.

He stepped out of the bathtub, dripping onto the stone floor. Quickly, he dried himself off and put on his clean clothes. The clothes were starting to get damp from the steam. Opening the door, he stepped out.

He sat down at his small bedroom table, where Drake had laid out his breakfast. He started to say a quick prayer of thanks, when loud voices in the hallway outside distracted him. Voices upon voices echoed down the corridor. Many wedding guests had arrived last night, and probably a lot more this morning. The servants were certainly earning their pay today. Families from the city and all over the countryside would be on hand for Alexander and Mareth's wedding. He had heard his mother say two hundred people would be there, but Lady Branvold estimated there would be more than three hundred and fifty. Given his father's reputation as Lord of Lystra, who was known throughout the land as Lord Alexander the Just, it was a wonder there weren't a thousand.

David quickly started eating his breakfast. Warm bread and sweet pastries, probably made just a few minutes before, sat before him. Steam still rose from them, accented by the cold of the morning air.

A knock came to the door. "Master David!"

"Yes, Nana?" he answered.

"I hope you are ready, because it is time to meet your brother."

David took a few large, quick bites of the pastries. He opened the door, mouth bulging with food.

Jolina took him by the hand, pulled him into the hallway, and shoed him along. "Remember, your father wants to see you as soon as you are finished with your brother!"

He trotted off down the hallway, trying to chew and swallow the enormous amount of pastry in his mouth. People filled the hallways like never before, at least in his memory. He recognized a few servants, but other than that, most were strangers. Merchants and craftsman passed him by, with the occasional knight or noble. Picking up his pace, he rounded the corner.

*BANG* His head connected with something metal. The breath was knocked out of him as his back impacted on the floor. Looking up in amazement, he saw what he thought was the largest man ever to live. The man's arms looked at least as thick as David's legs, and his legs looked as wide as David's torso. He was at a loss for words. From his perspective, the man looked over eight feet tall. A massive hand reached down to offer assistance.

"You shouldn't run through the hallway, young sir. One could get hurt." The large man smiled at him through his mustache, pulling him gently to his feet with one quick, fluid motion. "And who might you be, my young fellow?"

Even trying to be friendly, this knight was extremely intimidating. "David, Sir. David Ki Kalendeen."

The man pushed his long brown hair back, revealing a large scar running down the right side of his face. "Oh. Any relation to Lord Alexander Ki Kalendeen?"

"Yes, sir. He's my father."

"Ah, I see. Well, David Ki Kalendeen, it is a pleasure to meet you. I trust your head is no worse for wear? You may be the first person in ten years to put a dent in my breastplate," he said jokingly.

David rubbed his forehead. It was a bit tender, but he was not bleeding. "No sir, I'm fine."

"Good. Listen, young David, I need to find your father's courtroom. I am King Dorian's ambassador to Elgannan, and I wish to make my presence known."

"You're an ambassador?"

The large man gave a small bow. "General Lexar Sagaroth, at your service."

"What country does King Dorian reign, my lord?"

"Aragil, of course. King Tyral took ill this past winter, I'm afraid. His oldest son, Eric, was killed in a hunting accident two days before his father died. Tobias is a Holy Defender and could not return, so the crown went to Tyral's third son, Dorian." Sagaroth looked around impatiently. "Young master, I would love to discuss current events and politics with you all day, but unfortunately, I must find your father."

"Oh, my apologies, my lord. Go down this hall, up one story, and one of the clerks will assist you."

"Thank you, David. You've been most... helpful." The large man roughly rubbed his hand through David's hair. He hated when adults did that to him, but he was not about to protest to a man that looked as if he could carry two merchant's wagons on his shoulders without breaking a sweat.

David watched the man walk down the hall. Even the officers of the castle guards stepped out of his path. He was at least two hands taller than anyone else. He was also a lot wider, without a hint of fat on his body. How could anything have given him that scar on his face? One thing was for sure, if something could wound Lord Sagaroth, David prayed to God in Heaven that he never ran into it.

Turning around, and being much more careful, David continued down the hallway towards his brother's study. When he arrived, the door was already open. The morning sun was streaming through the stained glass windows behind Alexander's empty desk.

"Oh no!" he thought. "I'm late!"

He gingerly stepped into the room. It looked empty, but a nagging feeling told him that it was not. He heard the click of hard leather against stone, and tried to jump quickly to the side, but he was not fast enough. A pair of hands grabbed him roughly, fingers digging deeply into his ribs, tickling him mercilessly.

"You're late again, Pudd. This time you're going to have to pay!"

David was laughing too hard to put up any resistance. "STOP IT! STOP IT! I HATE BEING TICKLED!" He tried to pull away, but Alexander grabbed him in a head lock and rubbed his knuckles back and forth across his trimmed blonde hair. Suddenly, Alexander let him go, wicked smile still plastered across his face.

"Welcome back to the world of the living, Pudd."

"Big oaf! And quit calling me Pudd."

"Whatever you say, Pudd." Alexander threw his head back in laughter. David did not think it was funny. With a quick leap, he threw himself into his older brother, knocking him back to the floor. Grabbing a handful of Alexander's thick blonde curly hair, David yanked. His brother never stopped his annoying laughter. Instead, he grabbed David by the leg and dug his thumb and forefinger into his flesh right above his kneecap.

David reeled backwards at the sensation of tickling and pain.

"Do you surrender, Pudd? Do you?"

"NEVER!!!!"

Alexander's free hand found his other kneecap.

"ALRIGHT! I SURRENDER! I SURRENDER!"

"What was that, Pudd? I didn't hear you."

"AAAAAARRRGH!!!!!! I HATE YOU, YOU HELL SPAWN!"

Suddenly the tickling pain was gone. Alexander got to his feet and offered to help David up. He smacked his brothers extended hand away.

"Oh, come on, David. Don't be angry. I just want to toughen you up a bit. You'll be leaving next fall, and the outside world is no place for a soft little Pudd like you." Alexander poked David's flesh on his side. "By the way, have you given any thought as to what you are going to do when you leave?"

David was pulling himself up off of the ground. "I don't know. Gabriel wants me to become a Holy Defender. Father wants me to come back after I graduate. I'm not sure what I'll do."

"You know you'll always be welcome here, even after father is gone, don't you? I want you and Eleenia to be my advisors."

"What about Gabriel? Do you think he'll ever come back?"

A look of sadness slowly washed over Alexander's face. "Now David, you know the answer to that. Not unless he is sent here by the Archbishop." His face brightened a bit. "So, you know what to do this afternoon?"

David rolled his eyes. "Yes, we've been over it at least a hundred times. I stand next to you, try to stay awake while Bishop Malachi drones on and on, then hand you the ring."

"And no fidgeting, no yawning, no picking your ass, and no looking around. Keep your eyes forward throughout the ceremony. And if you're lucky I won't tell father what you said about the Bishop. Remember, they were roommates at the University in Avonshire and have been best friends ever since." Alexander smiled, "Besides, the lecture you'll get from father will make one of the Bishop's sermons seem like a blink of an eye. Good old Bishop Malachi. I've never known someone so in love with the sound of his own voice."

The two brothers started snickering at the joke. Alexander stopped smiling and turned his head to look out the window and let out a sigh.

"Are you still having second thoughts?" asked David.

"Yes. All this responsibility, I'm not sure I want it. Mareth is so beautiful, I love her dearly, and I know she will make a good wife, but.... Oh, I don't know. I want to see the world! I want to live my own life! I don't want to be measured up against father. He is not an easy man to be compared to." Alexander kicked his desk in frustration. "Stupid traditions. Why does all the responsibility have to go to the first-born? Why don't you become Lord of Lystra and I'll go off and have adventures across the Decian Sea or something?"

David smiled at his brother's suggestion. "I don't think I would ever get bored with so much power. How can you think of leaving with all you have here? Anyway, I heard a merchant saying that Black Jack Mulligan's ships were raiding all of the passenger ships coming out of New Portsmouth and selling the people into slavery in Greater Arabia."

"Sometimes I think I would rather face pirates than the responsibility father is heaping on me. He is so insistent that I 'follow in the family name'. He even named me after him. Do you know I actually prepared a backpack last night?"

"There is still time if you want to run. I won't tell anyone".

Alexander smiled and rubbed his hand through David's short blond hair, making him look even more unruly. "You better get going, Pudd. Father wants to see you. Any idea what it is about?"

"No. See you in a few hours." He turned to leave as Alexander followed him to the open door.

"Thanks for listening, brother. Oh, and before I forget.... One more to grow on, Pudd!!!!" Alexander yelled.

Suddenly, David felt a hand dig under the back of his pants, grabbing hold of his smallclothes. His feet were lifted three inches off the ground.

"AAAAAAARRRHG!!!!!"

Alexander let him drop, and quickly closed the door to his study, laughing deviously.

"I'll get you for that, you oaf!!!" yelled David. There was no answer from the other side of the door, only laughter. Angrily, David continued down the hall, shaking his head and picking at his smallclothes.

* * * * * *

Dameus waded through the waist-deep water, the stench of raw sewage rising from beneath him. A glowing yellow ball hung above him, lighting his way through the ice-cold water. Slime and other filth hung from the arched ceiling, only two hands from his head. He had been searching for several hours and his legs were starting to go numb, yet they had to be here somewhere.

The night before, from his room at the inn, he had magically searched the castle for the presence of the dead. His mind had traveled back, years into the past. Six men, criminals escaping from the dungeon beneath the castle, had found their way into the sewers that led to the River Vissik. The anticipation of freedom filled them, as did thoughts of revenge against their jailers. They traveled through the darkness, searching for the way out. Suddenly, their hopes turned to frustration as they encountered the metal bars blocking their way. The speed of the flow picked up and the water began to rise. They were too weak to fight against the current, and they were swept under. Pinned against the bars, they thrashed to get to the surface. Dameus had felt the sweet touch of death take them. It had happened so long ago, yet the feeling of their deaths was so strong.

Another sudden drop in temperature brought Dameus' thoughts back to the present. Sagaroth had damn well better appreciate what he was doing for him. He continued to trudge on through the vile water. The feeling of death was starting to get stronger. He was getting close.

Up ahead, a small tunnel branched off to the left. He hurried towards it, almost loosing his footing on the slimy, uneven ground beneath the water. Rounding the corner, Dameus spotted the metal bars that blocked the men's progress those many years ago. They were still intact.

Turning around, he stretched out his left hand. Yellow energy arced from his palm and a magical field appeared, sealing the side tunnel off from the main flow. The last thing he needed was for the current to carry the bodies out into the river. He then sealed the other end of the side tunnel off about twenty feet beyond the metal bars. His hand then started to glow red, and he plunged it into the water. Slowly, the water level receded until the ground was completely dry. The magical force fields still held the main flow back.

Just beyond the metal bars lay what he was looking for. Six skeletal corpses, still in tattered clothing, were scattered across the filth-ridden ground. Still plenty of time left, he thought, as he unsheathed a small serpentine dagger. Time enough to create six greater undead. He quickly produced five black candles from his robe. A quick blast of magical energy and they were dried. Pointing at the ground, flame shot from his index finger, charring the ground in the shape of a pentagram. He then placed the five candles at the apexes and lit them. Turning around, he grabbed hold of two of the bars. A yellow glow encompassed them and they crumbled away. Repeating this three more times left enough room for him to squeeze through.

"Well, my friends, your souls may be in hell, but it looks like what is left of your bodies shall have your chance for revenge after all," he said, smiling.

After several trips back and forth, he moved the pile of bones next to the pentagram. Carefully, he pulled bones from the pile, arranging them to create a complete skeleton within the circle. He sliced his hand with the dagger, allowing the blood to drip onto the skeletal form. As the blood drops splashed against the bone, they were instantly absorbed. He then kneeled and began to chant. The familiar yellow glow encompassed the bones and the skeletal figure sat up.

"Your command?" the skeleton said in a raspy voice.

Dameus looked up, sweating and hands shaking. Creating greater undead was a lot more draining than he had remembered. "Arise."

The skeleton stood up, staring at him with empty eye sockets, head tilted slightly to the side.

"Now help me with the others. We've a long task ahead of us."

* * * * * *

David sat fidgeting in the waiting area outside of his father's courtroom. It was past midmorning and the other people waiting were getting restless too. The hard benches that lined the gray stone walls were filled. Several townspeople were scheduled to have Lord Alexander III hear their disputes over rights to land, animals, and businesses. A merchant, most likely new to Lystra, was probably there to ask permission to set up shop. There was also a pregnant woman and an irate man, most likely her father, an annoyed popinjay, six farmers, two other merchants who both wore the patch of Lystra's merchant guild, and General Sagaroth with two of his maroon clad soldiers.

Sagaroth stood up and walked over to David.

"Lord Ki Kalendeen likes to take his time, doesn't he?" the mountain of a man said.

David almost strained his neck looking up at the man towering above him. "You'll have to excuse father. It's a big day today, you know. He'll be along soon, I'm sure."

An almost evil-looking grin crossed Sagaroth's face. "I suppose it is." He turned to look down the hallway. "More than you know," he said under his breath.

Lord Ki Kalendeen rounded the corner, with several people right on his heels. David's mother was among them, talking as he was obviously trying to walk away.

"Listen, Alexander! I know there is something wrong! Can't you feel it? You should take some men with you and search below the castle!"

"I said no!" he replied, quickening his pace. "I'll send some men down, but I'm not going to lead them! Look at how many people are waiting for me. And the wedding is in a few hours." He stopped, turning to face her and clutching her hand. "Arianna," he said, running his hand across her jet black straight hair, "I'm sorry, but I have my duties. It could take days to search everything beneath the castle. I'll send twenty armed men. Will that be enough to satisfy you?"

Arianna pulled her hands away and hugged herself, fear evident in her eyes. "No, it won't! You should lead them. You don't understand. Something isn't right! We can postpone the wedding until tomorrow. I need to know that nothing is wrong." She began to twirl her long black hair around her fingers.

Sagaroth stepped forward. "Excuse me, my lady. I'm sorry, but I couldn't help but overhear. I'll gladly take my men and search beneath the castle."

"And who are you, sir?"

"General Lexar Sagaroth, ambassador of the King of Aragil, at your service, my lady."

Lord Ki Kalendeen turned to Sagaroth. "Thank you for your offer, General, but it shall not be necessary. My Captain of the guards is more than capable of handling the job."

"Well, your lovely wife doesn't think so, my lord." Sagaroth said with a grin as he took Lady Ki Kalendeen's hand into his own.

Lady Ki Kalendeen gasped and quickly withdrew her hand, taking two large steps backwards.

Although he was a hand and a finger shorter than the massive general, Lord Ki Kalendeen stood his full height and took a threatening step towards Sagaroth. With a strong hand, he pressed his index finger against the large man's breastplate. "I don't know what the etiquette of Aragil is like, General, but in Elgannan it is not considered polite to tell a Lord what to do in his manor. And if you ever, EVER touch my wife again, I shall destroy you where you stand. Do I make myself clear?" His voice rang with authority and confidence.

The entire room fell silent, and David visibly cringed. He was convinced Sagaroth was going to pick his father up by his long locks of blonde hair and swing him through the courtroom doors, but instead, Sagaroth gave a quick and humble bow.

"My apologies, Lord Ki Kalendeen. I meant no disrespect. As you observed, the traditions of Aragil are quite different than your own."

David noticed that despite his obsequiousness, Sagaroth's eye twitched in what was probably anger. His father turned and took a piece of parchment from one of the servants that had been following him. Quickly, he scanned the appointments.

Arianna snatched the parchment out of his hands. "Alexander!!! What are you going to do about the...."

"Please love, finish your wedding preparations. I promise, I'll personally lead the entire castle guard though the dungeons and the sewers after the wedding feast tonight. Is that good enough?"

She glared angrily at him, and then let her face soften as she looked into his deep blue eyes. "I guess that will do."

Lord Alexander sighed with relief. "Good. Now, Lord Sagaroth, I'll hear you first. Please." He opened the door for the large general, gesturing into the courtroom.

The older man with the pregnant woman stood up, face even redder with anger. "My Lord, we've been waiting all morning! This foreigner barely just arrived, he did! I must protest...."

"My good Sir," Lord Alexander said, "I'm sorry to cause you any inconvenience, but we will get to your case as soon as possible." One of the servants took the parchment from Arianna and handed it back to Alexander. "Jarel, please have the kitchen send some of the best food up to the waiting area. No sense people being uncomfortable while they wait."

The servant gave a quick bow. "Yes, my Lord. Oh, sir? The stage is here." He turned and ran off down the hallway. The people in the waiting areas seemed a little less on edge at the thought of the food. The pregnant woman's eyes lit up and David thought he saw her start to drool.

Sagaroth walked into the courtroom, followed by his father. Two of the castle guards, dressed in red and gold livery with the family symbol on their breastplates stood holding halberds on either side of the large double doors. David always wondered about the significance of the family crest, a large eagle with wings spread and talons extended, overlaid on an ornate cross.

The door opened and his father stuck his head out. "David, will you come with us, please?"

David stood up and walked through the doors. The red and gold variegated carpet stretched from the door all the way to the throne at the other end. He estimated it was about 15 legs distance. On either side of the carpet, against the gray stone walls, stood suits of armor, each holding a different weapon and each in a different pose. Very few of them had the traditional red and gold markings, signifying them as Ki Kalendeen. David wondered if they were captured in some forgotten battle long ago. As he walked forward, there were benches set up in rows, facing the throne. His father was explaining the history of one of the suits of armor to General Sagaroth. It had the five cross crest of the Holy Defenders and was holding a large battle axe.

"...was worn by a Defender named Brother Maynard in the Nomadic Wars. My brother Rameus sent it to me from Avonshire last winter. It took weeks to pound out all of the dents and polish it back to its original form. It's a hobby of mine, actually, restoring antiques."

Sagaroth took his gaze away from the armor. "Ah yes, I had forgotten. You used to be a Lord General in King Edgar's army. In fact, wasn't it you who led the siege that captured the city of Denning?"

"That was ten years ago."

"Lord Ki Kalendeen, many questions have been left unanswered about that siege. As one general to another, how did you cause the city walls to collapse? That question has been puzzling many students of war and scholarship for the last ten some-odd years. Many of the scribes of Aragil have attributed it to sorcery."

Lord Ki Kalendeen laughed deeply. "General, I assure you that there was nothing supernatural about destroying the walls. Sorcery! I hadn't heard that one!"

"Please, sir. How was it done?"

Wiping a tear of laugher from his eye, Lord Ki Kalendeen shook his head, still grinning. "I'm sorry, General. That is a secret I'll take with me to my grave. Some knowledge is too dangerous to share. And all of the soldiers that carried out my orders were sworn to secrecy, those that are still alive, anyway."

The General gave a resigned sigh and changed the subject. "Why did you retire at such a young age? Elgannan could benefit from your experience."

Lord Alexander looked away. "Prince Nicolae and I had a bit of a falling out. He thought his sister should marry royalty, not mere nobility. And when he ascended to the throne after the death of King Edgar, I was... forced to retire."

"You're lovely wife is Arianna Northcott?"

"She was. She is now Arianna Ki Kalendeen." He turned his head towards David. "David, I would like to introduce you to General Lexar Sagaroth of Aragil. He is the Lord General of King Tyral."

"That's King Dorian, my Lord. Both Tyral and Eric has sadly passed away. Yes, your son and I have run into one another...quite literally."

Alexander's attention turned back to Sagaroth. "What? Prince Eric died? How?"

"He was killed in a hunting accident a mere two days after King Tyral passed away. Dorian was given the crown, as he was the next Endicott in line, since Prince Tobias had joined the Holy Defenders."

David's father turned and walked over to his throne. Sitting down, he looked deep in thought. No one said a word for nearly two minutes. Sagaroth looked at David uneasily. Finally, Lord Alexander spoke.

"From the letters my brother has written, I understand the Holy Church doesn't think too highly of Prince Dorian."

Sagaroth shifted uncomfortably. "That's King Dorian. And just between you and I, who cares what the church thinks."

Lord Ki Kalendeen stood up. "I do, General Sagaroth. As should you and your king."

"Ah. My apologies if I have offended, sir, but everyone is entitled to their own opinion, and I am sorry, but I will not lie about my feelings. The church is corrupt, more dedicated to matters of wealth and control than matters of spirituality."

"The Pontiff and the Arch Bishops have done quite a lot to root out the corruption that has plagued the church in times past."

Sagaroth smiled. "Symbolism over substance, in my opinion."

"Well, I don't want to stand here and argue with you. General Sagaroth, I'm sorry I don't have time to hold a formal diplomatic meeting, but as you have probably heard, my eldest son is getting married today, and I am very busy. You and your men are, of course, welcome to stay for the ceremony, and also for the wedding feast. Stay as long as you wish and enjoy the hospitality of Castle Ki Kalendeen. Perhaps we can meet again in a few days."

"Thank you, Lord Ki Kalendeen. I'm sure my men will appreciate your kind and generous offer, as do I."

Sagaroth gave a deep bow and turned to leave. He winked at David as he passed.

Lord Alexander walked over to David and put his arm around him. They were both silent until Sagaroth closed the door behind him.

"What do you think, David? Shall we keep him under guard or let him have free reign of the castle?"

David looked up, startled. "Why are you asking me, Father?"

"I am interested in your opinion. What would you do in my situation?"

A crease appeared in David's young brow. What should he say? There were at least one hundred reasons to decide either way. He started to breathe more quickly, biting his lip.

"Don't worry. I've already made my decision. I'm just testing your judgment." He looked down at David and gave his youngest son a squeeze.

"Um, I would let him walk free."

"Why?"

"Because he is a diplomatic ambassador?" The uncertainty showed heavy in David's voice. A wide grin from his father told him he had given the correct answer. He exhaled in a sigh of relief. "Father, why did you call me into your court today? I thought only you and Alexander were ever allowed in here when you were judging."

Lord Ki Kalendeen took his hand from David and walked back slowly to his throne. He sat down before he spoke. "I found Alexander's pack this morning."

David jumped in surprise. "You know about that? Please don't be harsh on him. I know he wasn't truly going to leave."

"I know he won't leave, and I won't punish him either. Your brother has always shied away from responsibility. I've tried to impress upon him the importance of the position he is going to inherit, but to be honest, I'm afraid he and Mareth will, in fact, run away some day. I don't want to force him to do something he doesn't want to do. But, there will need to be a Lord of Lystra. Gabriel and Eleenia can't do it, so it would fall to you, David. Next fall you will go to the Arch Bishop's University, and I want you to be prepared just in case Alexander leaves the Lordship to you."

David was stunned and speechless.

His father continued. "Now this doesn't mean that Alexander IS going to give you the Lordship, but even if he doesn't, I know he wants you to be more than just a mere advisor. Does that answer your question?"

"Yes, father. Thank you."

"Some time before you head off to Avonshire, we shall all sit down and decide what you boys are going to do once God in heaven has taken me home. I have to know that Lystra will be in good hands, and I know that between the two of you, it will. But if Alexander leaves, you have to be ready to take charge. Now, let's hear the next case."

* * * * *

Time for the midday meal, thought Angus McCracken. The dungeons of the Ki Kalendeen castle rarely needed more than the current three guards. The cells were occupied by the few thieves, bandits, vagrants, and brawlers that chose to try their luck in Lystra. Lord Alexander was a kind and just Lord, and he employed a large force of city guards. They kept the peace very well, but when someone dared to break the King's laws, they either ended up down here or they fled Lystra, never to be seen again. Today, there were only seven inmates to feed and supervise. All prisoners were to earn their keep in the dungeon, and McCracken kept them hard at work smelting iron ingots from the ore brought in from the Blackstone Mountains to the south.

A serving girl brought his tray to him. The kitchen always supplied some of the best food to the castle servants. Lord Alexander had always believed in keeping those in his employ happy, as he always had believed in keeping those under his command happy. Angus had served in the Caledonian army and lost his leg to an enemy's sword. Abandoned by his comrades, he was left to die on a battlefield east of Crystal Falls. On their way back from battle after General Ki Kalendeen's decommissioning at the order of the newly crowned King Nicolae, the army came across the disillusioned Caledonian soldier. Ki Kalendeen was kind enough to mend his wounds and bring him with them. Upon returning to Lystra, Lord Alexander had hired him on as the warden of his castle's dungeons. Compared to his life in the Caledonian lowlands, it was a relatively luxurious way to spend his retirement years.

A cloth napkin, embroidered with an eagle and a cross, covered the food. He pulled the napkin away from the tray revealing freshly baked layer-rolls, venison, tubers, and boiled carrots. A large pitcher of ale also occupied the tray. The clanging of smith hammers had stopped as the sweaty inmates also took time for their meal. The smell of his meal brought longing looks as the criminals received flatbread, water, and dried meat.

One of the prisoners called over to him. "Hey, old man. Why can't we have some real food like you've got?"

"Shut your vile mouth, you filthy bastard! If you hadn't smashed that bottle over Innkeeper Dirk's head, you wouldn't be in here, would you! Now shut up and eat! You haven't much time." McCracken took a big bite of venison and stood up. He felt a small twinge of pain as he put his weight on the peg that stood where his leg used to be. He drew his sword, using it as a cane, and hobbled over to the loud-mouthed brawler.

"You are lucky I'm in chains, old man," said the young prisoner.

Angus just smiled at him. "If you think only your chains would stop you from slaying me, what do you say I take them off of you and we fight? If you win, you only work five hours a day for the rest of your stay here. If you lose, you shall work fifteen, assuming you survive. I've forgotten more about death than you shall probably ever see."

"You're full of piss and wind, old man. I'll wager you've never used that sword, except perhaps as a poker to stir a cook fire." The prisoners exploded in laughter. "In fact, you probably cut your own leg off while shaving!"

McCracken stroked his graying beard and nodded. "I can see your words have gotten you into as many fights as your running have gotten you out of. I've seen my share of battles, boy. I've been a soldier since your mother was still changing your smallclothes. I've seen boys like you run scared while soiling themselves at the first sign of the enemy. I have you figured for one like that. So, what say you, lad? Care to try for light work or are you a coward?"

The young prisoner stood up. "I'm no coward. It will be a pleasure to fight you. Maybe you can find a hook to match your peg leg after I remove your right hand at the wrist."

"So be it. "

He turned and yelled down the hallway. "Tomas, come here. I need you to watch the others while I teach this lout a lesson!"

There was no answer.

"Tomas! TOMAS!! Quit playing the fool, man. Come out here, I need you!"

A small flicker of yellow light appeared down the hallway, the source being around the corner. McCracken sighed and hobbled towards the hallway as Tomas rounded the corner.

"There you be, man. Come here, I need your help."

Tomas walked past him, a blank look to his face, as if the subordinate guard didn't acknowledge his presence. As he passed, McCracken noticed a gash across his chest. Blood seeped through the split in the ring mail armor.

"Are you well, lad? That looks a nasty cut you got there. Here, let me see that?"

As he reached up to check the younger guard's chest, his hand was quickly pushed away. Tomas continued walking towards the prisoners at a slow pace. Again, there was the flash of yellow light down the dark hallway.

"What in the name of...." McCracken grabbed a torch off the wall and limped towards the hallway, sword drawn. As he approached the corner, the yellow light flashed again and he heard voices.

"...it's not working! You mutilated the body too badly for me to raise him and I don't have time to make him a greater....wait, someone's coming. You, go see what it is."

McCracken hunched down to face whoever was going to round the corner. If they did not work for Lord Ki Kalendeen and had a weapon in hand, they would lose the offending limb. "All right, who the bloody hell do you....."

He froze in mid-sentence as a horrible sight came around the corner. A walking skeleton, bones gray with age, turned and looked at him with eyeless sockets. McCracken's throat clenched. He couldn't breathe as he was seized with the urge to run. Where he ran didn't matter, as long as he ran and never stopped, but he was paralyzed with sheer terror the likes of which he had never felt. His entire body started to shake and he heard screams coming from the room behind him. A warm trickle ran down his leg and his teeth clenched together, biting through his lower lip. The skeleton swung its weapon and connected with his shoulder. The pain of the iron bar's blunt impact brought him back in control of his body. He raised his hands to protect his face as the force of the mighty blow carried him into the wall. McCracken struck blindly in the direction of the walking nightmare. His sword was jarred from his hand as it struck something. He turned and hobbled as fast as he could towards the main dungeon, not daring to look back at the nightmare chasing him. A scream escaped his lips and pain shot through his good leg. Glancing down, he saw a detached skeletal arm gripping his ankle. He felt the bones in his leg start to snap and another blow from the iron bar landed on his back. The floor rose to meet his face and the world spun. Glancing up ahead of him, he saw Tomas standing with his sword in hand. McCracken reached down to his belt to grab his keys and threw them to his fellow guard.

"Tomas!" he wailed in a high pitched, fervent scream. "Let the prisoners go and get out of here! Hurry!" McCracken glanced up, and saw all seven of the prisoners lying on the ground in a growing pool of their combined blood.

Tomas stepped towards McCracken and raised his sword.

"NOOOOOO!!!!"

There was a loud crack of metal hitting bone, and old soldier lay still.

Dameus stepped out from the shadows of the hallway and calmly surveyed the room. A pleased smile crept across half of his face as he examined the condition of the body in front of him, sword sticking through its back. "Good, very little damage to the skeletal structure. If the others are in as good shape as this one..."

Dameus was interrupted by a tap on his shoulder. He turned around and saw one of the skeletons holding its own severed arm. "What do you want?"

"FIX!" the skeleton said in a gruff, raspy voice.

"Why? You've still got one good arm. I've work to do. Go stand guard over by the hallway."

The skeleton poked him again and shook its head. "FIX!!!" it insisted.

"Fine. In a moment."

"FIX NOW!!!!"

Dameus gave a flustered sigh. "Oh all right! You big baby. Hold still!" He placed the arm back in the socket and muttered a few incantations. A small flash of yellow light, and the arm was back in place. "Good as new. Now go and guard the hallway. The last thing we need now are guards or servants alerting the rest of the castle.

The skeletal warrior nodded and walked off towards the dungeon entrance. Dameus cracked his knuckles and pulled the sword from McCracken's ribs. "No more interruptions. We haven't much time."

* * * * * *

The young noble sat on the opposite side of the room from the pregnant woman and her irate father. On the edge of his seat, he was screaming at Lord Ki Kalendeen. "I am the only son of Lord Edington of New Portsmouth! You have no jurisdiction in this case! I demand that you release me immediately!"

Alexander smiled. "You're threats carry no weight here, child."

The noble stood up, an indignant look on his face. "How dare you refer to me in that manner, Ki Kalendeen! My father shall have your head for this! I am no child!"

"But you are acting like a child, a child who is throwing a temper tantrum. Richard Eddington, my ruling stands. You admitted this woman carries your child, and you shall marry her before she gives birth." He began to roll up the scroll in his hands, indicating that the court session was closed.

Richard sat back down slowly, stunned. The fight seemed to be taken out of his voice. "You don't know the dishonor this will cause my family. Laurel isn't of noble birth. My father will disown me. Please, Lord Ki Kalendeen! It's not that I don't find her attractive, and I will support the child, but I cannot marry her!" He put his head in his hands and began to cry. "What will my father say?"

Lord Ki Kalendeen reached into his long red and gold robe, pulling out a scrolled parchment. "Richard, I have here a letter from your father. Last month, when Master Lubick came to me with these charges, I sent a messenger to New Portsmouth to discuss the matter with Lord Edington."

Richard stood up again. "You WHAT?!?"

"Your father already knows. Would you like to hear his response? Well, even if you don't, you are still going to hear it. It reads 'Honorable Lord Ki Kalendeen, in regards to the situation of my son and the tailor's daughter. Two years ago when Richard left Porstmouth, my heart was heavy. My beloved son fled my castle in anger. He was angry with me and he had nothing but hate in his soul. If you happen to come across him, please convey this message to him. The words I hastily spoke were wrong, and I did not mean them. They should never have been spoken, and if I could change the past I would. I cannot, however, and all I can ask is that he forgives me. He is my only son. As you are probably aware, his mother died during his birth. Please also tell him the woman who carries my grandchild is welcome in my home. It would be an honor to call her daughter. Please, Lord Alexander, send my son home if you find him. Thank you. Signed Lord Jonathan Edington, Lord of New Portsmouth.' Now, Richard, you have two choices. You can marry Laurel, or you can support the child by working the smelting pits in my dungeon. The choice is yours!"

Richard stood up and glared angrily at Lord Ki Kalendeen. David noticed that he was trying to suppress an emotional outburst. He radiated both hate and rage as he felt his chances of ascending to the throne via royal marriage slip through his fingers. He walked across the room to Laurel and knelt at her feet. "My darling Laurel, I ask that you forgive me for my arrogance. I also ask that you will be my wife and the future Lady Edington of New Portsmouth." Although he spoke the words, they were without feeling.

Laurel looked over towards her father, who beamed a smile at her and nodded. "Yes, Richard, I shall marry you." She threw her arms around Richard's neck and embraced his unmoving form.

The old tailor got up and knelt in front of Lord Ki Kalendeen's throne. "Thank you, my lord. Thank you. For the bottom of my heart, I thank you."

"Please, Master Lubick, stand up."

Lubick stood and grasped Alexander's hand. "I thank God in heaven that we have a lord such as you. Now I understand why they call you Lord Alexander the Just. Thank you again, my lord. Thank you."

Richard put his hand on the old man's shoulder. "Master Lubick. I ask that you also forgive me. I would be honored if you would come and live with us in New Portsmouth. And besides, I know of no other tailor who I would rather have make my bride's wedding gown."

Lubick turned and glared at the young noble. "You little spoiled bastard!" A thud rang out as Richard received a punch in the jaw. Lubick's face then warmed up and clasped Richard's hand. "Now, I can forgive you. I should not hold a grudge against the father of my grandchild."

Lord Alexander gave a relieved sigh. "Your father and I thought that would be your response. He sent a stage, and it is waiting to take all of you to New Portsmouth this very afternoon."

Lubick put his right arm around Laurel and his left around Richard, who was nursing his jaw dramatically, and they all turned and walked towards the large double doors. "Come, we shall be at your father's home in two days."

David watched Richard give one more hate-filled glare at Lord Ki Kalendeen as they exited the courtroom and hurried down the corridor.

Lord Ki Kalendeen walked over to David. "That's the last of them, son. Let's go have a glass of sweet wine and I shall answer a few questions you might have. Then we shall get ready for your brother's wedding. On second thought, I'll have Drake make you up a flask of strong tea. You'll need it to stay awake during the Bishop's service."

"Father, why was the only other option you gave him to work the smelting pits?"

Lord Ki Kalendeen let out a tired sigh. "I was only enforcing Lord Edington's wishes. He wants his son to learn responsibility. As you can see, the lesson was badly needed. I just hope when he becomes Lord of New Portsmouth, he has more of a backbone than his father."

"But why did YOU have to force him to marry? Shouldn't that have been Lord Edington's job?"

"It's better for a man to hate a total stranger than to hate his own father. Enough questions for now, my son. His Grace is in quite a talkative mood today and you may need more than one flask of tea to keep you awake."

Laughing, he put his arm around his youngest son and they walked out of the courtroom.

* * * * * *

Outside the armory, steam rose from the cold floor as the warmth of the spilling blood oozed across its length. Along the walls, blood and entrails had splattered every few feet, creating a morbid gray and red pattern. Broken bodies, mouths twisted in silent, horrified screams, littered the room as soulless forms ransacked the weapons rack for anything useful.

"What a mess," Dameus said to himself. He hadn't realized that there would be so many guards at this time of day in the armory. They had been able to take them by surprise, but he had lost almost half of the lesser undead he had created. The greater undead had also taken some injuries, but they were easily repaired. The guards who had been stationed here were a different matter. Out of the 57 that had been here, only 21 were still intact enough to be raised.

The door creaked open and General Sagaroth stepped into the room. The gruesome sight didn't appear to disturb him. One of the skeletons hissed at the sight of the intruder and it raised its sword, stepping forward to strike.

"NO!" yelled Dameus. "He is one of us!"

The skeleton lowered its sword and bowed in an apologetic manner. Sagaroth shuddered. He still hadn't gotten used to the sight of the walking dead. Stepping over a body, he approached Dameus. The skeleton dropped to one knee at Sagaroth's feet.

"Oh, get up. You have work to do." Dameus pointed to the weapons rack, and the undead creature nodded and walked off. The apprentice necromancer turned his attention to a nearby body.

"Everything seems to be going well, Dameus." Sagaroth surveyed the room with a combination of pride and revulsion. "Now that you have eliminated the main force of guards and confiscated their weapons, the rest of the castle should fall relatively easily."

Dameus pulled a dagger out of the body's abdomen. He tossed it aside and it landed with a wet clatter in a puddle of blood.

The skeleton that had attacked Sagaroth came back with its fist closed around something and offered it to him. Sagaroth held out his hand, and the skeleton dropped several gold coins into it.

"Oh, thank you." He turned his attention back to Dameus. "Just a few more hours, and we shall bring the Ki Kalendeens and the Branvolds to their knees!" Sagaroth laughed wickedly. Dameus continued to examine the body. The laughter died. "Dameus, are you listening to me?"

The necromancer looked up. "Hmm? Oh, yes. Knees. Right." He went back to his work.

Sagaroth looked at him in disbelief. "How can you not be excited at a time like this? This is going to be a glorious victory."

Dameus looked up at Sagaroth for the first time since he entered the room. "General, playing the ambassador may be glorious and exciting, but please forgive me if trudging through cold sewage tends to generate a lack of enthusiasm on my part. Now, if you are finished, I have work to do." With a dismissive gesture of his hand, he waved the General away.

Sagaroth's eye twitched in anger at the comparatively small man's insolent words. An urge to reach down and snap his neck crossed his mind, but he brought his anger under control before speaking. "Dameus, I appreciate the personal discomforts you have had to endure during this mission, but it is in service to our Master."

Once again, the skeleton walked over to Sagaroth, hands clenched around something. Sagaroth held out his hand a bit nervously and the skeleton handed him a wedding ring and gold pendant.

The necromancer continued working without visibly acknowledging the large general's words. A flash of energy surged from his hands and the corpse opened its eyes.

"Stand!" Dameus commanded. The newly-created undead obeyed. "Well, Lord Sagaroth, you had better get back to the warm splendor of the main castle. I have things under control here. The attack shall begin as scheduled, although I do have to warn you, the undead will be outnumbered three to two."

The skeleton once again cautiously approached the large general, hands clenched around something. Sagaroth sighed and held out his hand again. His eyes widened in disgust as the undead creature dropped a kidney, dripping blood and urine, into his hand. Sagaroth let go quickly and it fell with a splat to the blood soaked floor.

Dameus shook his head in frustration. "Will you leave those bodies alone and find the rest of the weapons?" he shouted. The skeleton bowed and quickly obeyed.

"You still have my sword?" Sagaroth asked, wiping his hand on the inside of his cloak.

Dameus nodded without looking up.

"Good." Sagaroth turned to leave. "Oh, and one more thing. I want you to make sure that Lady Arianna Ki Kalendeen is delivered safely to me after the battle. Dameus, listen to me, she must not be harmed. Did you hear that?"

"Yes, I heard you. With a voice that loud how couldn't I hear you."

"She must not be harmed, Dameus." His face lit up a bit as he thought about the dark-haired beautiful woman. "I want her brought to me right after our victory." He stroked his moustache lustfully.

"I heard you the first time. But I don't think she will be willing to lie with you after you destroy her family."

"That's not what I want her for!" he said, defensively. "She's the sister of King Nicolae. He may not be as eager to retaliate knowing she is our prisoner."

"Is her prison going to be a cell in Ironshield or your bed chamber?" asked Dameus. "Not that there would be much difference," he added under his breath.

The comment brought a sharp slap across the back of Dameus' head. He fell to the ground hard under the strength of the large general's blow, landing on his face. "I have had enough of your brazen remarks. Lord Kadeus put you in my charge, and from now on, you will show me the proper respect, you spindly little demon."

Dameus rubbed his bleeding lip and smiled at the demon comment. "As you command," he said. He tried his best to not let the mocking show in his voice. His words and his eyes told different stories, as he glared at Sagaroth.

A gloating expression appeared on Sagaroth's face. "Good. Keep up your work and I shall see you again after the battle." He walked towards the door and opened it. "Dameus, if you try, I'm sure you could become a first-rate servant." He chuckled and closed the door behind him.

Dameus picked up the dagger next to him and threw it at the closed door. The hilt landed against it with a thud. "First-rate servant. We'll see who's the servant when I hang you with your own entrails."

He felt his mouth to make sure none of his teeth were missing, and then turned his attention back to the creating of undead.

* * * * * *

David exited the main castle and walked across the outer courtyard towards the chapel. Things had quieted down a bit since the morning, as the final wedding preparations had already been made. Several female servants, dressed in very old, traditional livery with flowers woven into their hair, passed him carrying large bouquets to the chapel. Music from the practicing minstrels drifted through the air. The smell of mutton being cooked for the first day of the wedding feast mixed with the scent of the flowers to overwhelm his senses. He left the courtyard and started walking down the path that led to the chapel.

Rounding the corner, he came to the front of the chapel, set aside from the rest of the castle. The large wooden double doors were opened to allow easy access for the servants putting on the final touches. The frames of the black oaken doors were lined with white flowers dotting long green vines. Four guards in full, shining plate armor were already outside, standing at attention with halberds in their hands. The guests would be arriving in little over an hour. David walked past the unmoving guards into the main worship hall of the chapel.

The inside of the chapel was also festively decorated with vines and flowers, which sat on top of the gothic architecture all the way up to the vaulted wooden ceilings, 15 legs above. He walked down the newly-carpeted center aisle, passing rows upon rows of wooden pews. Several of the servants were fixing bouquets to the ends of the pews, some of them dancing slightly to the upbeat music of the practicing minstrels. At the front of the church, in the first pew deep in prayer, sat his mother, absently twirling her long black hair.

David walked up and sat down next to her. There was a deep furrow in her brow and a small bead of sweat was running down her cheek. When she took no notice to him, he gently touched her on the shoulder.

"Mother?"

Lady Ki Kalendeen jumped with a start and let out a small yell. "David! You startled me! I've told you not to interrupt anyone while they are in prayer!"

"Forgive me, Mother. Is there anything wrong? You have seemed very upset today."

Arianna wiped her eyes with her gloved hand and sniffed into her lace handkerchief, embroidered with her initials. She turned to him and smiled at his concern. Leaning over, she gave him a motherly kiss on the cheek. "Don't worry about me, David. You have enough to think about. Shouldn't you be getting dressed? Your brother has come out looking for you twice already. He and the two Branvold boys are almost ready."

"I can dress quickly, Mother. You had mentioned a bad feeling before. What did you mean?"

She unconsciously started to wring her handkerchief in her hands. "Something feels wrong in the castle. I'm not sure, but I think it has something to do with that large ambassador from Aragil. What was his name, David?"

"Lord General Sagaroth."

"Something about him just doesn't seem right. Maybe it was the way he leered at me, or the lack of respect in his voice when he spoke to your father."

David patted her shoulder. "I'm sure that's it, Mother. He was just stunned by your beauty."

She lightly slapped his hand, laughing. "Oh, David. You're sounding more like your father every day. No, there was something else, something much more sinister and disturbing." She turned and looked up at the large circular stained glass window above the altar. Her voice lowered to almost a whisper. "Something is very, very wrong."

A chill ran down David's spine and he squirmed in the pew.

His mother put her arm around him. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to frighten you. Your father will get to the bottom of it. Perhaps you can help him, seeing that you are old enough to stand in court with him."

The voice of his brother, Alexander, angrily echoed through the large chapel. "Pudd! Where have you been! Get your stained bottom over here and get dressed for the wedding!"

All eyes turned to David. He stood up as straight as he could and spoke with all the arrogance he could muster. "Some of us had to serve in Father's court today and help put Mother at ease. I'm sorry if my schedule interferes with your little wants, but I truly don't have time for your tantrums."

Several muffled giggles could be heard. A sharp smack on his bottom brought him out of his haughtiness. "David! Don't antagonize your brother. It's his big day today, so humor him!"

He turned and gave a short bow. "Yes, Mother." He started walking towards the door on the side of the worship hall that led to the dressing rooms. His brother stood in his highly polished ceremonial armor, glaring at him. David walked past him with the look of conceit still across his face. "Mother said I should humor you, Alexander. So you shall hear nothing further from me."

His smugness was shattered as Alexander grabbed a handful of the hair near his temples and dragged him into the dressing room.

"AAAAARGH! You big simpleton!"

Alexander closed the door behind him, still holding a handful of David's golden hair. He released his younger brother, shoving him and giving him a swift kick to his buttocks with an armored foot.

"OUCH!" David landed on the floor and rubbed his bruised bottom. He glared at the smiling figures of Liam and Joshua Branvold. "So, you think it's funny?"

Joshua, one year younger than Alexander, broke into laughter. "Yes, very."

The smile disappeared from Liam's face, as he remembered very similar treatment given to him by his older brother. "I'm sorry, David." He walked over to help his friend back to his feet. David was still rubbing his backside as he picked himself up off the stone floor. A wad of clothing was thrown into his face.

"Now, if you two girls are finished, get dressed!" The clinking of Alexander's armored feet could be heard as he paced back and forth across stone floor, hands folded behind his back.

Joshua sat down in a wooden bench next to where Alexander walked. "There's still time, you know," he said in an almost tempting voice. "I would be lying to you if I said that Mareth wasn't thinking the same thing. All that responsibility, how will you handle it?" A wide grin split his face.

Alexander stopped pacing and stared thoughtfully at a stained glass window. He shook his head and resumed his metal on stone cadence. "I can't leave. What would my father think?"

David finished pulling his laced shirt over his head. "He would get his scent hound Jake to hunt you down. He knows you are thinking about running. He said that if you disappeared he would place a bounty on your head so large, that you wouldn't even make it out of Lystra."

Alexander turned and his blue eyes froze with startled fear. "He knows? How? Did you tell him, you little Pudd?!?"

"I didn't have to. He found the pack in your room. He's going to come in here before the ceremony and tan your hide. He is so mad, well, I wouldn't want to cross his path today, let alone be you." David rocked back and forth on his heels, trying not to laugh and becoming high on his newfound power. "I had a glass of wine with him not an hour ago, and he was talking to me about taking over the family after he disowns you!"

The sudden stopping of the pacing told David that he had gone too far and ruined the credibility of his story. Alexander walked over to him and grabbed him by his tunic. He rubbed his knuckles over the top of David's head. "You clever little monkey. You had me going there for a minute."

All four of them started laughing, shattering the sullen mood and relieving some of Alexander's fears.

"You should have seen the look on your face," chimed Joshua, pointing and laughing at the groom to be. "A bounty! Oh David, that was a classic!" Liam fell over laughing so hard, tears were rolling down his cheek.

A hard knock sounded from the other side of the door. David caught his breath barely long enough to speak. "Look out! It's Angus McCracken coming to throw you into the dungeon!" The boys roared in renewed wheezing cackles. The door opened to reveal the stately form of the Bishop Malachi of Kheog.

"Greetings, young men. Engaged in a little youthful revelry, I see. Well, I just came from Mareth's dressing room after explaining the responsibilities facing a young married couple, as well as some personal advice and philosophy, gleaned from my many years of study and experience...."

Liam leaned over and whispered into David's ear. "He went to Mareth's room over an hour ago. Can you believe he just finished?"

"I heard that, master Liam. So, as I was saying, God created Adam in his own image, and taking a rib from him, he created Eve. Thus began the first marriage. Theirs was a perfect marriage, as they had not yet sinned." The Bishop sat his stout form down on the bench next to Joshua. When Joshua tried to stand, the Bishop grabbed hold of his tunic and forced him back to his seat. "This pertains to you too, young master Joshua. You shall be marrying one day soon, I would think. And Lady Eleenia deserves a wise husband."

Joshua rolled his eyes as his dreams of absconding slipped away.

The Bishop continued. "Where was I? Oh yes, Adam and Eve. While they were created without sin, the potential to stray from the path that God set forth existed, as we saw in the book of Genesis when Eve took the fruit from the tree of knowledge of good and evil. Now, the tree of knowledge was a tree that God had told Adam and Eve they were not to partake of its fruit. But, the evil one was present in the perfect garden, and he lied to Eve telling her she in fact could be like God himself. Now, it was interesting that Satan used as temptation the very thing that caused him to fall from grace, as he also wanted to be like God. Mind you, he only wanted to be so in power, but not in goodness and grace."

David's mind started to block out the monotonous drone of the Bishop's voice, which continued for what seemed to be ages. He glanced over at Liam, whose eyes were growing heavy as he fought the sweet escape that sleep would bring. Alexander was trying to look interested, as he had taken a seat and was resting his chin on his hand, leaning forward maintaining a dull eye contact with Bishop Malachi. David entertained himself by counting the frustrated sighs Joshua emitted and trying to guess when the next one would come. He reached into his belt, pulling a small flask of tea from it. He hoped it would keep him awake a little longer.

A hushed murmur became audible from the other side of the dressing room door. The guests were starting to arrive for the wedding, which was now less than half an hour off. Merchants, administrators, and craftsmen from the city of Lystra and all of the surrounding areas would be packing into the chapel today, and then into the grand hall as the first day of the wedding feast began. It would last through the better part of the week, or as long as most of the guests could stay away from their business. The guards would have their hands full this week, removing people who indulged too much in their drink and those who felt the need to start fights. Lord Alexander had thought of hiring a few of the Holy Defenders, but with the early spring trade starting up again, Lystra would probably need their services more.

The Bishop was starting to talk about Christ's betrayal and man's free will, which David was at a total loss as to how he had managed to arrive at that subject. He tried to trace the path of Malachi's words, but his attempts came up empty.

The Bishop suddenly stopped talking. The silence in the room was deafening, broken only by the small, quiet snores of young Liam.

"David, could you please awaken the snoring prince?" asked the Bishop, making a reference to a story about a prince known for his inability to pay attention.

"Yes, Your Grace." Liam was resting his chin in his hand, which was propped up on his knee. David knocked his arm out from under him, and Liam awoke with a sudden start.

"Hmm?" Liam said wearily. "Oh, Your Grace, my most humble apologies. I ask your forgiveness, as I did not sleep well last night."

Malachi gave him an accusing glance, then continued. "Anyway, where was I? Oh, free will. As I was saying, free will is a gift from God, although God knows what the outcome of every decision you make is going to be even before...."

The Bishop was interrupted by a loud knock on the door. Everyone sighed with relief as they straightened up and smoothed out their fine clothes. The door opened to reveal Lord Zareth Branvold and Lord Alexander Ki Kalendeen.

"Putting the boys to sleep, Your Grace?" asked Lord Alexander.

Liam's face reddened with embarrassment as all the other young men in the room looked at him and snickered.

Lord Branvold strode into the room. Like most of the dwellers of southern Elgannan, he was fair colored with light brown hair. Taller than Lord Ki Kalendeen, yet a little thinner, Lord Branvold has also been one of the battle lords of King Nicolae Northcott. He walked with an air of confidence that few men dared to show. Some mistook his attitude for arrogance, but if questioned about his deeds, Zareth Branvold told his stories with very little embellishment.

He spoke with a voice that boomed like thunder. "If you all would excuse us, Lord Ki Kalendeen and I would like to speak with the groom-to-be."

David, Joshua, and Liam all stood up stiffly. They walked out of the room without saying a word. It was tradition that the father of the bride would speak to the groom before the service. Usually, it would consist of threats and obsequious promises about the treatment of the woman to be wed. The father of the groom was also present, to stop there from being actual bloodshed. Although there had been need of his presence in the past, today he was mostly there because of tradition. David knew that Alexander was probably going to get bigger threats from his own father than from the loud, but very gentle tongue of Lord Branvold. The Bishop also followed the boys out of the room and closed the door behind him.

"Well, young men, I must check on the progress of my acolytes." He looked at David and continued. "Your mother threatened to use my hide as a decoration if anything went wrong with this service. And given her reputation, I am not once to take chances with the wrath of such a woman." He leaned over to whisper to David. "And considering how well she managed to tame your father, I fear I would be no match for her." The Bishop began to laugh.

"I wouldn't exactly consider father a tame man, Your Grace."

"Oh, David. You didn't know the kind of man he was at the Arch Bishop's University, or on the battlefield. He has mellowed a great deal since the days of his youth." The Bishop patted David on the head and walked off towards the room behind the sanctuary.

The noise from the pew area was growing louder. David walked over to the hallway door and peeked out. The chapel was almost packed, with nothing left but places to stand, and those were disappearing quickly. The service wouldn't even begin for another quarter of an hour. He couldn't imagine how full the building would be then.

Liam put his hand on David's shoulder. "It's too bad that Gabriel and Eleenia couldn't be here today."

A felling of sadness washed over David. "Father said it was too dangerous given the state of the war. Plus since it is mid-semester, El can't afford to take a month off to come to the wedding."

"I heard that the Caledonian army was laying siege to Avonshire," Liam said.

Joshua walked up to the two boys. "You know that could not be true. Even if Caledonia did attack Avonshire, they would never dare raise their swords to the Church. Even if the Holy Defenders weren't headquartered there, I can't believe that King Malcolm would order the destruction of anything owned by the Church. The Arch Bishop has always refused to take part in the war, even when King Nicolae himself came to the Monastery to beg and plead for aid."

David nodded, reassured. "You're right, I'm sure, Joshua. But I do wish they could have been here for Alexander's wedding."

"How are their studies?" asked Liam.

"Gabriel is doing well. He will be participating in his mentor's combat test, or something like that. Eleenia is excelling, as always. She was a little upset that the bow master wouldn't let her in the Archery class. He said it wasn't proper for someone who was learning to heal to also learn to kill, not to mention being a woman." David felt under his tunic and ran his finger across a long abdominal scar he had received while play fighting with Liam three years ago. He had been terrified that his father would be irate, but Eleenia had stitched his wound before they told anyone. She had done a superb job of it, as she had natural talent as a healer, even though he would carry the scar for the rest of his days.

"Fortunately, though, her commoner friends are teaching her how to fight," David added.

"Hmpf," Joshua said.

David turned his attention back to the chapel, wondering how many more people would be attending. He also wondered if he would ever see his brother and sister again.

The three men came out of the dressing room. The sound of their laughter filled the small hallway. Lord Ki Kalendeen opened a small door that led outside. "I wonder where Jarel is? I sent him to check on the kitchen status half an hour ago. Come to think of it, I haven't seen any of the staff in quite a while. Maybe I had better go look."

Lord Branvold clasped his hand down on Lord Alexander's shoulder. "And bring the wrath of your wife and mine on you for missing the wedding ceremony? I think not, my old friend. Come, let's get into place."

The minstrels started playing a traditional wedding song as Alexander, David, Joshua, and Liam walked in a single file up to the altar. Alexander, being the groom, was the only one dressed in armor, as was the tradition for Ki Kalendeen weddings. His feet clanged against the stone floor as he walked. David could hear him starting to breathe faster as he took his place in front of the Bishop. Lord Ki Kalendeen hurried down to the front pew and sat next to his wife. She jumped as he touched her hand, and looked at him, startled. A reassuring smile seemed to calm her down. Lord Branvold hurried along the side aisle, pushing his way through the ever-growing crowd, towards the rear of the chapel. As David watched Lord Branvold make his way through the mass of people, he caught a glimpse of Lord General Sagaroth standing at the back of the chapel. Lord Branvold slipped around him and disappeared through the main double wooden doors.

The music suddenly stopped, and the entire congregation turned around looking to the rear of the chapel. The minstrels started to play again, this time a slow, majestic march that echoed from the high wooden ceiling. A small girl, probably no older than 8, walked down the aisle, bringing her feet together and pausing after every step. She had a small woven white basket hanging from her wrist, and after every step she threw a handful of white rose petals on the carpet behind her. David had never seen her before, and he figured she was probably the daughter of one of the Branvold's most trusted servants.

The second girl to walk down the aisle was Mareth's youngest sister, Serena. She wore a beautiful ivory-colored linen dress, and she was holding a bouquet of white and yellow flowers in her hand. She also stepped down the aisle slowly, pausing between each step. David studied her closely, and he decided that she looked bored. Serena was jealous that Mareth was marrying Alexander. She was a year older than David, and while the families expected her to be interested in Gabriel, even before he left to become a Holy Defender, she had made her feelings for Alexander very well known to him. David had heard stories of how Serena had an infatuation with his older brother ever since she was a young girl. During the infrequent visits, she would follow him around whatever castle they were in, gazing up at him and sighing. Alexander had somehow always managed to place Gabriel in her path and had made a hasty retreat. It was this young girl's fantasy about stealing her older sister's future husband that had kept her from being Mareth's maid of honor.

David had no idea who the next two girls were. The girls were around the same age as Alexander and Mareth, both with light hair and fair complexions. They were both very nervous, and David thought they were probably commoners with whom Mareth had grown up in Kheog, one being a bridesmaid, the other the maid of honor. The sound of Joshua letting out a muffled "Hmph!" confirmed his suspicions.

As the last of the bridesmaids and maid of honor arrived at the altar, the music paused and started into the wedding march. Mareth looked beautiful in her white dress and veil, with early spring flowers woven into her braided, long, sandy brown hair. Her beauty was strongly contrasted by her concerned, uncomfortable-looking father walking beside her as she strode confidently down the center aisle. She had a broad smile of victory on her face as she shot a patronizing glance at her younger sister, who was doing her best to hide a sneer.

Alexander took her hand as she met him at the altar. Lord Branvold gave a smile, and blinking back unshed tears, he returned to his seat next to Lady Branvold.

The Bishop looked around the room, satisfied with the size of his soon-to-be captive audience. He took a long, deep breath and started into his signature drone. "Love is patient. Love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

"Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled..."

David stood still, facing forward, as Bishop Malachi recited what seemed like both of the Apostle Paul's letters to the Corinthians in their entirety...twice. The chapel was starting to get warm as the heat from all the bodies filled the enclosed room. His eyes started to get heavy as the warmth, combined with the Bishop's never-ending voice, overtook him. He snapped his eyes open and took a deep breath. He turned his head slightly, gazing at Alexander and Mareth, who fared little better. David was glad that they were getting married. Over the last few years, he and Liam had discreetly followed them into the woods, watching them kissing and holding each other under a tree, or in an abandoned stable, or under the cloak of darkness in some remote corner of the castle. He and Liam had received a sound thumping from Alexander every time they could no longer contain their giggles, thus making their presence known.

David was brought out of his thoughts by the sound of movement coming from outside. Turning his eyes to his left, he could see silhouetted shapes moving about outside. He thought it was probably the servants, getting ready for the feast, although what they were doing outside the chapel, he didn't know. He committed a breach of wedding etiquette by turning his head around. His attention was caught by his mother. Her face had gone completely pale as she looked in horror at the stained glass window. She looked ready to vomit.

The Bishop had finally finished his sermon. "Alexander Ki Kalendeen IV, do you take Mareth to be your wife in the eyes of God and men?"

Alexander paused and took a breath. "I do!" he said triumphantly. David heard his father give a sigh of relief.

"Mareth Elsbeth Branvold, do you take Alexander to be your husband in the eyes of God and men?"

"I do!" she answered quickly.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife." The bishop raised his hands and spoke to the congregation. "Behold, Alexander and Mareth Ki Kalendeen. May you find peace and happiness in God's love and each other's all the days of your life." The couple turned around and faced the crowd as everybody stood and cheered. "You may kiss the bride."

Alexander slowly lifted his bride's veil from her joyful face. He took her hand into his and beamed a smile at her. As the couple kissed, the congregation cheered loudly. They turned and faced the standing, applauding wedding guests and started to walk towards the back of the church. Everyone grew silent as the minstrels started playing the exit march.

After the couple had taken four steps from the altar, there was a sound of glass breaking, followed by a whistling hiss and an audible thunk. The shaft of an arrow protruded from Mareth's throat and blood poured onto her white wedding gown as she made a gurgling cry, falling to her knees.

"Mareth! NO!" cried Alexander.

The chapel erupted in terrified screams as arrows showered the crowd. David looked around in panicked indecision for a way to escape. An arrow nicked his cheek and brought him out of confusion. He turned around, seeing Liam curled up in a ball on the floor, covering his head, screaming. David grabbed his arm. "Come on, let's get out of here!" he yelled. Liam stood and the two boys sprinted towards the door that lay to the left of the altar and David followed as he surveyed the room. Bodies of the dead and dying were strewn about the floor. A woman next to him let out anguished cries as she cradled the head of her fallen husband. The as yet unseen attackers were now lighting their arrows afire and launching them through the windows into the rafters above. Smoke began to slowly fill the room as the roof caught on fire. Given the age of the timbers, David figured they would probably collapse on the packed-in congregation within a few minutes.

David plowed into Liam, who had suddenly stopped. He stepped around him and grabbed his friend's hand, pulling him with him into the relative safety of the side hallway of the vestibule. Flaming arrows flew into the door as David pulled it closed behind him. "Why did you stop?" David yelled, grabbing Liam and shaking him.

Liam didn't answer. His lips were quavering and tears were running down his cheeks as he stared blankly into space. He pointed back towards the sanctuary and a gasp escaped his lips as he passed out on the cold stone floor.

David opened the door slightly and looked out from the hallway and saw the cause of Liam's grief. Lady Branvold, Serena, and Joshua had run to Mareth's aid when she was struck. All of them lay crumpled on the floor, multiple arrows protruding from their still bodies. The screams were distinctly fewer as many of the arrows had found their mark. One of the Bishop's altar boys made a run for the door. An arrow sprouted through his chest and he fell to his knees and slumped over, blood pouring from his mouth and chest.

Lord Ki Kalendeen burst through the door, a flaming arrow striking his left arm. The force of the door knocked David back as his father fell on top of him.

Alexander followed and closed the door behind him. He looked back towards the door. "I don't understand. They are wearing our servant's livery!" he said tearfully. He quickly darted down the hallway and rounded the corner.

"Father! You're wounded!" screamed David as he reached over and beat the flames out.

"Don't worry, David. I've had worse. Here, pull it free."

David braced one hand against his father's shoulder and tried to remove the arrow. The shaft broke at what David thought was two fingers below the skin, leaving the tip of the arrow still imbedded in his father's flesh.

Lord Ki Kalendeen winced as he felt the wound. He reached into his cloak and pulled out a dagger, still in its sheath. He handed it to David. "Don't be afraid to use it. Take care of Liam."

"Where are you going?"

Alexander rounded the corner, handing a broadsword to his father.

"We're going to attack them from outside. I want you to stay put. The Bishop is rounding up the children and I want you to go with him."

A look of hurt surprise came of David's face. "No! I want to come with you! I know how to fight!"

"David! Don't argue. Do as I say! Liam may need you to carry him." Lord Ki Kalendeen pointed to Liam's unconscious form on the ground. "Now open the door."

Both men readied their swords and motioned for David to open the door. David threw the door leading outside open and the two men began to charge. The sight of a walking skeleton swinging a halberd towards them stopped them in their tracks. All three of them froze in surprise and fear.

"Lord, have mercy," muttered Lord Ki Kalendeen under his breath. Behind the skeleton stood several men, all in Ki Kalendeen livery and all with various wounds over different parts of their bodies. A blank stare was the only facial expressions they showed. Behind them stood a man in a plain brown robe obviously directing the attack.

The skeletal warrior started walking towards the open door. The man behind him stepped forward shouting. "NO! Don't go inside, you idiot!"

The skeleton stepped through the threshold onto the holy ground of the chapel. A blue glow surrounded it and caused it to go stiff. A second later, it fell apart, bones clattering to the floor.

Lord Ki Kalendeen slammed the door closed. "David, run into the sanctuary and tell Lord Branvold that we are under attack by undead soldiers. Bolt this door as soon as we're outside and fill your flask with holy water. It may protect you if the need arises." He then threw open the door again and charged out, sword above his head. "GOD GRANT US VICTORY THIS DAY!" Alexander charged out after him, pulling the door shut on his way out.

David decided not to bolt the door, seeing the effect holy ground had upon the skeleton. Slowly, he opened the door back to the sanctuary. Smoke poured into the hallway and he stepped back, putting a hand over his stinging eyes and coughing. Reaching down, he tore off a long strip of his red and gold wedding robe and wrapped it around his mouth and nose. He reached into his belt and pulled out his flask. Opening it, he poured his tea on the stone floor. He quickly filled it with some of the holy water in the container beside the door. Taking a deep breath of the fading clean air, he darted into the smoke-filled sanctuary, taking five steps and tripping over a body. He landed hard on the blood-drenched stone floor, barely having time to throw his hands in front of him to break the fall. He lifted his head up, only to see the form of his mother, lying on the ground with an arrow protruding through her chest. He got up to his knees and touched her hand. She feebly turned her head and looked into his eyes.

David pulled his face cloth from his nose and mouth. "Oh, Mother. No."

Arianna Ki Kalendeen opened her mouth to speak, but produced no sound. She raised a bloody hand to David's cheek and smiled weakly. Drawing her last breath, her eyes rolled back into her head and her hand dropped to the ground.

David felt as if everything he had ever eaten was about to spew forth from his stomach as he leaned over and began to retch. "Dear God, please don't let this be real. Please!" he pleaded. He felt his throat tighten and he began to cry uncontrollably. Images of his childhood raced through his mind, good times spent with his mother, and times he wished he had been a better son. Every disobedient word he ever said to her flooded through him, adding to the sick feeling growing in his stomach. "Mother, please don't die..." he said between painful sobs, gently shaking her still form.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and he turned around, vision blurred by tears and swollen eyes caused by both smoke and grief. "David, I'm sorry, she's gone," the Bishop said sympathetically, trying to talk over a crying baby in his other arm. "But there will be plenty of time to mourn once we are safe. Come, we must leave now."

Beside the bishop were eighteen children, ranging in age from three to about twelve. They were all huddled together, frightened beyond reason.

David's began to see red as his grief suddenly gave way to rage. "I'll kill them all." He stood up and unsheathed his father's dagger and held it in his shaking hand. "I'LL KILL THEM ALL!!!" He let out a primal, anguished yell and started walking through the smoke towards the large main doors.

The Bishop handed the baby to one of the more calm children and quickly moved towards David. He caught him and pulled him back, just barely yanking him out of the way of a fiery support beam falling from the burning ceiling. He spun him around and a loud slap rang across David's face. "David! Get a hold of yourself! I need your help. We have to get the children out of here. Where is Liam?"

He received no reply as David stared at his mother's still body. "Where is Liam?"

David's eyes snapped to the Bishop. "He passed out. He's in the side vestibule. They were undead. Father said they were undead. I have to tell Lord Branvold!"

"He already knows. Come with me, boy." Bishop Malachi grabbed David by the collar of his tunic and pulled him towards the front of the chapel. David wrenched free and darted towards his mother. His eyes were stinging from the smoke that continued to fill the room. Several of the pews were starting to catch fire as red, smoldering embers fell from the burning ceiling. The Bishop reached out towards David, but had to step back as another flaming beam fell from above, landing between them.

"David! I can't get to you. Run to the back of the church and follow Lord Branvold." the Bishop yelled between ragged coughs.

David knelt down next to his mother and pulled his facecloth back over his mouth and nose. He closed her still open eyes and prayed again for everything to be a dream. Tears continued to flow from him as he wept, holding his mother's hand. He glanced around. The bodies of the dead lay strewn about the church. The arrows had stopped as the battle had been resumed outside. Flaming timbers spotted the smoky scene, as his lungs began to feel like they were on fire. A creaking sound started to grow louder. He looked up and saw the ceiling starting to give way. Quickly, he dove under the front pew. The air was a bit clearer this low to the ground. Suddenly, there was a loud snapping noise and the entire burning roof collapsed on the chapel. David covered his head and prayed for either safety or a quick death. The pew cracked, but held, keeping the timbers away from David's prone body as they rained down upon the floor.

Slowly, he took his hands off of his head. There was only darkness and the strong scent of smoke. He could also feel heat to his left. Smoke started to fill the small space. Looking down towards his feet, the only light David could see was the red glow of some smoldering embers. He reached over and pushed on the wall of debris next to him, but it didn't budge. He could feel the gritty feeling of the soot on his hands as he tried in vain to escape. Quickly, the heat upon his hands rose to an intolerable level and he jerked back. While his hands were not blistered, he could still feel the heat upon them.

"Help!" he yelled. The sounds of fighting he had heard earlier were no longer audible, muffled by the layers of fallen timbers. The pew gave a small creak and David feared it would collapse. The space seemed to close in on him and the air became almost too thin to breathe.

He could feel panic begin to take hold of him. The only thing that mattered was getting free, undead or no undead. He rolled over onto his back and tried pushing the pew up with his knees. The wood didn't budge. He began to punch and claw at the pew above him as his breath became shorter and more shallow. Tears streamed down his face as he frantically tried to escape what he was afraid would become his grave. He punched at a bad angle and pain began to throb in his knuckle. He put it to his mouth and tasted the warm, salty mixture of blood, soot, and tears. He braced himself and took a deep breath. With all of his strength and determination he had left, he gave one more push with all his might and felt the pew budge slightly.

Everything started to fade away from him. His thoughts became more distant and alien to him. Breaths became shallow, and harder to take in as smoke filled the small space. The walls felt like they were starting to close in and David lost control of his thoughts and emotions. Screams of terror and rage erupted from him between coughs. He started to kick and punch frantically at the bottom of the pew just a hand above his head. Blackness overtook him and he faded in and out of consciousness.

David was brought back to his senses by a blow from outside striking above the pew. Sounds of wood scraping against charred wood echoed through the small space. He could feel his throat tighten as he froze in terror. Thoughts raced through his mind. He could picture several of the skeletal abominations above him trying to hack through the pew to get to him. They wouldn't stop until they had him. Who knows what would happen then?

Another solid blow struck the pew, then another. Light flooded into the small space as the wood splintered above his chest.

"David! Where are you? David!!!"

A flood of relief washed over David at the sound of his eldest brother's voice. "I'm here! Help me!"

"Keep still, Pudd. I'll get you out."

The section of the pew that was above his head was pushed over. David was blinded by the sudden amount of sunlight that struck his smoke-stung eyes. He felt Alexander grab his tunic and pull him into the fresh outside air. He took a deep breath of the cool, clean air and erupted in ragged coughs. Slowly, his eyes came back into focus as he adjusted to the full daylight. The entire ceiling of the church had collapsed, along with one of the walls. The sounds of fighting could be heard in the distance.

"What's...." David again started coughing.

"The bloody hellspawns hold the main gate. Most of the survivors have run into the castle. The Bishop told me you were to leave the chapel with Lord Branvold, and he said he hadn't seen you. When I got back here, I saw the rubble budge and I prayed it was you. Praise be to God that it was." Alexander grabbed his younger brother in an embrace. He then gave him room as David started coughing again.

Alexander took David's hand and led him carefully over the debris that used to be the chapel. They reached the rear of the fallen building and moved outside. Bodies of wedding guests were everywhere, as were several guards in livery. The four honor guards were lying on the ground, still in their armor.

"They must have attacked them when everyone was cheering. That is probably why we didn't hear it," said Alexander. His face tightened and his knuckles turned white as he gripped his bloodied sword. "Those bastards will pay for this."

David turned to his brother. "Mother's dead, Alexander. She's dead!" He started sobbing softly.

Alexander grabbed and shook him. "Damn it, David. Don't cry. We don't have time for sorrows now."

David looked at him with disbelief. He swung wildly at his older brother and the blow struck harmlessly against Alexander's metal breast plate. "How can you say that? Mother is dead! Don't you feel any pain, or don't you care?"

Alexander closed his eyes for a few seconds. A lone tear rolled down his cheek as he bit down on his feelings. "She was my mother too, David. Mareth is gone also, as is most of her family. Lord Branvold and Liam are the only two that still live. David, the time to mourn will come, but I for one prefer to mourn in victory. Do you still have the dagger Father gave you?"

David nodded, wiping the tears from his sooty face, trying to cover his anguish.

"Good. Let's go. We'll finish this one way or another in the castle."

The two brothers ran through the courtyard. The bodies were distinctly fewer here than in front of the remains of the chapel, but by quick count, it appeared the undead were winning. The green grass of early spring had a dark red tinge to it as the blood and entrails of the former wedding guests spilled freely from their wounds. Faces twisted in horror and agony stared back at David, with their still open eyes sending a chill down his spine. He forced himself to keep running in spite of the light-headedness that started to overtake him. After what seemed like forever, they reached one of the doors to the castle. The top hinge was broken and the bloodstained door hung loosely, half collapsed.

Once inside the castle, the sounds of battle could be heard again. Screams and the clang of metal striking metal echoed through the dark, empty corridors. David's eyes took a few moments to adjust to the lack of light. Alexander walked off in the direction of the south stairwell.

"Where are we going?" asked David.

"I need to get something from my room, then we'll try to find the others."

David hurried up the stairs after his brother. Although it normally wouldn't have winded him, the smoke that stained his lungs made his breath heavy. He was coughing by the time they reached the third story of the castle.

Alexander stepped into the hallway and stopped. Two servants with vacant expressions, one with his throat slit holding a sword, the other with intestines hanging from an open abdominal wound, stood in front of them.

David froze. He was barely aware of Alexander swinging his sword while charging. There was a clang of metal hitting stone and he realized he had dropped his dagger. The sight of one of the abominations moving towards him brought him out of his temporary catatonia. He bent down and fumbled for his knife. The servant hit him and sent him sprawling down the stairs to the middle landing. The breath left him as a crushing weight landed on top of him and a pair of hands wrapped around his throat. His mind raced for what to do as he tried to pull the bloody hands from his neck. The grip tightened like a vise and David stopped trying to force breaths, instead reaching towards his belt. A burning sensation of revulsion erupted from the core of his being as his hands encountered the soft, warm, squishy feeling of entrails slithering between his fingers. He tried to push past them, but his hand became entangled. The flask of holy water was beyond his reach. David looked into the soulless eyes of his attacker. Upon the face, there was no look of determination, hatred, or any other emotion. Just cold, detached emptiness. He continued to try to break the grip, fighting against the unearthly strength of the undead servant. With all his might, he tried to pull one of the hands away, but as he strained, red and black specks started to dot his fading vision.

On the edge of his consciousness, David heard a loud crack. The grip around his throat went limp and the head of his attacker bounced off his face and rolled onto the ground. Alexander pulled the beheaded corpse off of his brother and brought him to his feet with his free hand, clenching his bloody sword in the other.

"Are you alright, Pudd?"

David dropped to his knees and emptied his stomach on the floor. Alexander stood silently and waited until he finished. After several minutes, his vomiting subsided into dry heaves. He stood up and wiped the visceral fluids from his hand.

He could feel tears welling up inside him again as he searched for the words to say. Alexander quickly put his arm around David.

"Don't worry, Pudd. He got in a lucky hit, that's all. If it hadn't been for you, both of them would have taken me down in a matter of seconds."

David buried his face in Alexander's cloak and wept. He was shorter than his older brother, coming up to his shoulders. Alexander let him cry this time. He was barely fourteen years old and he had minimal training in weapons, academics only. After a few minutes, David pulled back from his brother. "I'm okay. Thank you," he said in a hoarse voice. Between the smoke and vomiting, his throat was burning badly. The sour taste of bile sat heavily upon his tongue.

Alexander slowly helped David up the steps. David retrieved and sheathed his dagger, placing it in the side of his boot. The other servant was lying dead almost where it had stood before, its head split down the middle. Alexander picked up his fallen adversary's sword and handed it to David. The sword was not overly heavy, and was well balanced and finely crafted, as were all weapons of the Ki Kalendeen house.

The two brothers crept down the empty hallway, wary of every shadow they crossed or corner they had to turn. A distant scream pierced the silence as another wedding guest met his fate. David offered up a silent prayer, both for the victim and for himself. He gripped the hilt of the sword tightly as his hands started to shake. The stress was becoming too much for him. At any second, a former friend animated by the powers of Hell could step out and kill him, or worse yet, kill Alexander and leave him alone to fend for himself.

The sounds of fighting throughout the castle had stopped. Terrible thoughts ran through his mind. Perhaps they were the only ones left alive and an entire army of the dead was scouring the castle grounds for them. The urge to run took hold of him, but he forced himself to continue following his brother. Finally, the brothers stopped as they reached Alexander's bedroom.

"What are we doing here?" asked David.

"I know what you've been thinking, and the thought has crossed my mind too. I think we're alone. The fighting has stopped and everyone else is either dead or hiding. Neither of those is an option for us. We're getting out of here. We'll head up to Avonshire. I have friends there, and Gabriel and El are there, too. We'll exit the west end of the castle and cross the river. The water is only one leg deep at its worst."

Alexander opened the door and they stepped inside. David followed and shut the door behind him. The fragrant smell of flowers permeated through the ever present stench of smoke that clung to his entire body. He was grateful and inhaled deeply, only to be once again set upon by a coughing fit. He spat a glob of smoke-saturated phlegm onto the stone floor and wiped his mouth on his sleeve.

Alexander reached under his bed and produced the large, bulging pack he had prepared the day before. He thrust it into David's free hand. The coins in the bag jingled as he swung it over his shoulder.

"It feels like it weighs fifty stones. What did you put in here?"

Alexander shrugged. "Two changes of clothes, spare boots, food, water, and several hundred gold. It should be enough to get us to Avonshire. Probably enough to give us a good start in our new life." Alexander looked around the room and sighed heavily. "I'll miss our home."

"Let's leave quickly. Those things could come at any moment!"

"I agree." Alexander opened the door to the hallway and looked outside. The corridor was empty in both directions. The two brothers tried to walk as quickly and with as much stealth as possible towards the western end of the castle.

The torches that lined the walls were starting to flicker and go out due to the lack of attention by the now deceased castle servants. The constant jumping of their shadows made David even more on edge, even causing an occasional startled scream. Alexander was also getting more visibly nervous, in spite of his assurance to David that he was not.

From about thirty legs up ahead, they heard sounds coming from around a corner. Alexander quickly tried one of the doors along the passageway, but it was locked. Six heavily-wounded soldiers, all carrying large, bloody halberds, rounded the corner. David's knees began to shake as the leader emitted an unholy cry, pointing in their direction. The undead guards started to charge.

David turned and ran, clutching his sword in one hand and the pack in the other. He quickly turned, seeing Alexander running behind him.

"Run! Don't wait for me! Run!" yelled his brother.

His attention returned to where he was going, just in time to miss tripping over a fallen bench that lay in his path. David skillfully hurtled over the bench without missing a stride. He fought down the urge to cough again and forced himself to breathe in steady, even intervals. Doors, tapestries, and other decorations flew past him in a blur as he ran. His heart started pounding harder in his chest and his breaths were becoming more shallow and quick. He heard Alexander's footfalls behind him and he could tell he was outpacing his older brother, who was weighed down by his armor and his greater body mass.

David felt a surge of energy, bred by fear, shimmer through his body as his pace quickened down the long hallway. He jumped over a body lying in his path as he passed the staircase they had entered through earlier. The world became distant to him. He could no longer hear the footsteps of his brother behind him. In his mind's eye, he could picture Alexander being overtaken and slaughtered. For all he knew, the hell spawns could be right behind him, reaching out for the hood of his cloak. His spine tingled in reaction to the imaginary hand his mind created, reaching only inches from his neck. He was forced to slow down as he reached a corner in the hallway. As he rounded, he could see the image of a man holding a staff, stepping out of the shadows in his path. His breath stopped as his legs tried to halt his forward momentum, causing him to lose his balance and almost tumble to the ground.

His panic turned to relief as Bishop Malachi called his name.

"David!" The Bishop started walking towards him.

"No! Run! They're right behind us!" he yelled.

David tried to run past the Bishop, but he caught him by the sleeve. "Wait, my boy. We shall face this evil."

Alexander rounded the corner. A look of relief came across his face as he strained for breath. He stopped running when he reached David and the Bishop. As he turned, the six undead soldiers came into view. Alexander stepped forward, raising his sword. The Bishop held his arm out and gently pushed Alexander behind him.

"Stay back, my sons." The Bishop stepped forward, gripping his staff with both hands and holding it in front of him. David and Alexander stepped back wearily as the undead creatures advanced.

Bishop Malachi closed his eyes for a second, offering up a silent prayer, and stepped forward. "By the power of God and the blood of Jesus Christ, be gone, unholy servants of Darkness!" The undead stopped, frozen in their tracks. "Father in Heaven, by the power of Your Holy Spirit, take these unclean, vile abominations from my sight!" he yelled.

There was an invisible explosion of energy. The Bishop and the two brothers were knocked back off their feet. David struck the ground hard and the wind left him. When he looked up, the six guards were lying on the ground, completely still. He and Alexander stood and walked over to the Bishop.

"Thank you, my sons," he said as they helped him to his feet. The Bishop was holding his side with a look of pain on his face. "Oh, I'm not as young as I used to be."

David looked at the six unmoving figures. "How did you..."

"Faith, my boy, faith. Whatever power comes to bear on you, the power of God will always be greater. Now, we've wasted enough time. Your father sent me to find you. We must join him in his study."

"Your Grace, where are the children?" asked Alexander.

"They are with your father and the other survivors."

"How many survivors are there?"

"Sadly few, I'm afraid."

They walked the rest of the distance to Lord Ki Kalendeen's study in silence.

* * * * * *

Bishop Malachi rapped on the study door three times. The door swung open and the men on the other side lowered their weapons, as they had been prepared to strike.

"The task at hand has been completed, Lord Ki Kalendeen!" said the Bishop.

David and Alexander followed the Bishop into the study. Of the hundreds of wedding guests that had filled the castle that morning, only twenty-seven people were in the room, including the Bishop and the two boys. Of the fifteen men, three were wounded, though none seriously. Four of the women, with swords in their hands, also stood ready. David recognized almost none of them, guessing they were from outside the castle. The only people he knew were his father, Lord Branvold and Liam.

Lord Branvold sat on a wooden bench next to his son. A look of contemplation adorned his face and he hardly glanced up at the three newcomers. Liam sat, leaning up against his father deep in shock. Lord Ki Kalendeen's eyes widened at the sight of his two sons. He rushed from the table to the two boys and threw his good arm around David.

His voice was wracked with emotion. "Praise be to God you're alive!" he said, clutching David in a fatherly embrace. He released him and put his hand on Alexander's shoulder. "Excellent work." His gaze turned to the Bishop and David. "Both of you. Someone get them some water."

The study had been converted into a make-shift war room. Drawings of the castle and the surrounding areas were lying on his father's desk. From the door on the right that led to his father's private bath could be heard the sobs of children. David had expected everyone to look ragged and exhausted, but there was a blood lust in everyone's eyes. They seemed eager to turn the defensive battle of survival into an offensive war of attrition. His father must have given one of his rallying speeches.

One of the men handed David a water skin. He drank deeply, the soothing coolness relieving the majority of the pain in his throat. He felt his strength return to him.

"Let's get on with it, Mi'Lord!" said one of the men, wielding a large, bloodied halberd. "I be anxious for some revengin' as what them bastards done to my kin."

"Perhaps you should have saved the combat speech for after the planning, eh General?" said Lord Branvold.

Lord Ki Kalendeen chuckled dryly. "It does seem like old times, doesn't it? Only I don't remember a situation this desperate."

"You got us out of the Korval forest. You'll get us out of here."

"I recall you had as much to do with that as I, Zareth."

One of the other men stood up, irate with impatience. "I agree with Richard. Let's turn the tables on them and give them a taste of OUR steel!"

The others in the room stood up and voiced their agreement. Lord Ki Kalendeen held up his hand and quieted the angry group. In a loud voice, he spoke above the crowd. "The only thing hurrying strategy will do is speed us all to our graves! We will attack when I say we are ready, and not a moment before! Our first priority MUST be to get the children to safety. Your Grace, you, Roderick, and Adam will see the children to Lystra. Since it is downstream from here, I suggest you use the river to your advantage. It will make a quick form of travel, and there are several small boats in the marina to the south of the castle."

The two men with bows in their hands nodded.

Lord Ki Kalendeen continued. "Zareth, you will take everyone else and create a diversion. Be as loud and as fast as you can. Keep to the shorter passageways so the undead can't use their bows. Carve a path across the castle several times. After a time, make for the front gate. There can't be many of them left. And by all means, if you come across that damn necromancer, kill him at all costs. With him gone, the enemy's number will quickly dwindle to nothing."

"As you command, General Ki Kalendeen," said Lord Branvold with a hint of nostalgia in his voice.

"Good. Alexander and I will quickly search the castle for survivors. Our lives will be in your hands, Zareth. I'm counting on you to draw them off of us. When we join you, we will accompany you to the front gate. If we don't show after your fifth trip around the castle, assume we are dead and leave without us."

David stepped forward. "What about me, father? Will I be joining Lord Branvold's group?"

"I think you know the answer to that already." Lord Ki Kalendeen continued. "Gentlemen, there has to be a reason for this strike, and I cannot fathom it at this time. Dark days may lie ahead. Your Grace, on second thought, it would probably be better for you and the children to make for Avonshire."

"Father, I want to come with you!" protested David.

"David, everyone must follow his or her orders for a mission to succeed. You will go with the Bishop and the other children. I will send for you as soon as I can."

David nodded reluctantly.

Lord Branvold gave Liam a fatherly embrace. He turned to David. "David, watch after him. With all that has happened, I fear he may never be the same again."

Without answering, David watched his friend curl up on the bench, drawing his knees to his chest. His hollow, emotionless eyes looked off into nothing.

"Zareth, whenever you are ready. We will give you a few minutes, then we shall be on our ways also." The group started talking amongst themselves. Lord Ki Kalendeen raised his hand once more. "Today, we show the forces of evil that light shall always pierce the darkness. May the grace of God shine upon you, protect you, and lead us to victory this day!"

The group cheered loudly and Lord Branvold's party charged out into the hallway screaming. Lord Ki Kalendeen closed the door behind them.

"Adam, get the children. Roderick, see if you can get Liam to walk on his own. You won't be able to afford to have anyone carrying him. David, you know the castle best, so find the quickest way to the south exit."

David nodded. "Yes, Father."

"Lord Ki Kalendeen, do you honestly believe God will grant us victory?" asked Roderick, as he lifted Liam to his feet. "There has to be a hundred of them walking dead left."

Lord Ki Kalendeen turned to face the short archer. "There can't be that many left. And as long as the young ones get to safety, no matter what else happens, I shall count this battle a victory."

The group waited silently for the shouts of Lord Branvold's party to grow more distant, interrupted only by the sobs of frightened children, as Adam brought them from the adjoining bath. After a time, Lord Ki Kalendeen gave a nod and the two bow men crept out of the study, followed by the children and the Bishop. David gave his father and brother a farewell hug and stepped into the hall after them.

The Bishop looked to David. "Which is the fastest way, lad?"

Alexander and Lord Ki Kalendeen left the study and ran to the right.

David pointed left down the hall. "Go to the end of the hall, down the stairs, make a left once you reach the ground floor, and you'll come to the south foyer."

"You sound as though you think you'll not be coming with us," remarked the Bishop.

"I'm not. I want to stay with my father and brother."

"You heard what he said, David. You come with us."

David backed away from the group. "You know the way out. That's all you needed me for."

In an instant, Adam dropped his bow and seized David by the arm. "I got him, your Grace. He'll be coming with us." David tried to wiggle away, but Adam wrapped his other arm around his neck. David continued to struggle.

The Bishop shook his staff at the two. "We don't have time for this. We have five minutes at best to get out of the castle."

David was determined to stay with his family. Almost simultaneously, he stomped on Adam's foot, bit his arm, and slammed his elbow into his groin. The bowman dropped like a stone with a yell. David took the opportunity and sprinted away after his father. As he ran, he heard them call his name, but he never looked back. He rounded the corner in the direction he had seen his father take. The hallway opened into another stairwell. He strained to listen for voices, but all he could hear was the distant cries of Lord Branvold's party.

The thought crossed David's mind that he could have made a fatal mistake. He chose to run down the stairs so as to return to the Bishop's group. As he reached the bottom of the stairs and rounded the corner into the hallway, he saw his father and brother duck into a small room on the south side of the hallway. David remembered that the room gave a view of the small docks the Bishop and children were heading to. He stayed put in the hallway after ducking into the shadow of an open door. He winced as the coins in the pack he still carried jingled, but they didn't seem to bring any attention to him. Squatting down against the wall, he waited.

A few minutes later, he heard his brother speak. "Well, they made it to the boats. Do you see David anywhere?"

"No, there is too much going on. We should have watched from the third floor."

David crept up to the doorway and peeked around the corner. His father and Alexander were watching the boat push off from the docks. Lord Ki Kalendeen put his good hand on his oldest son's shoulder. "They're away. They should be safe now. Praise God. Let's go, we've got a job to do."

They spun around and started walking out of the room, but stopped dead in their tracks. Alexander's jaw dropped and his eyes almost popped out of their sockets. Lord Ki Kalendeen made a fist as he closed his eyes, trying to suppress his anger.

"David! Why didn't you listen to me?!? Damn, boy! You are such a fool. You would be safe had you gone with the Bishop!"

"Father, you said it yourself. I know the castle. I can help you look for people. I know all the best hiding places."

Lord Ki Kalendeen sat down on a wooden bench. He placed his face in his hands, taking deep, controlled breaths. The only time David remembered seeing his father this angry was four years ago. He and Gabriel had been playing with a crossbow in the stables. They had made a target out of a piece of cloth and several bales of hay and were taking turns shooting, when an argument occurred as to whose turn it was next. They wrestled over it and the crossbow had fired. The bolt tore a hole through David's cloak and had struck one of his father's favorite stallions, which later had to be put down due to an infection. It was one of the few times their father had punished them physically. He was angry about the horse, but more so that one of them could have been killed.

After what seemed an eternity, Lord Ki Kalendeen stood up. "Very well. David, you will stay with us. At the next sign of disobedience, I will throw you into the river and let the current take you to safety. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Father."

Lord Ki Kalendeen walked past his youngest son into the hallway without saying another word, still obviously keeping his rage at bay. Alexander followed him, smacking David in the head as he passed. "Stupid little Pudd!"

"Alexander, enough. He has been appropriately chastised and we need to work together as a team."

"Yes, father."

Alexander shot a quick, angry glance at David. The group continued to walk through the halls, checking all rooms and closets, but each time coming up empty. The distant screams of Lord Branvold's party had changed their tone. They were now definitely screams of terror. Several distant explosions could be heard and one by one, the voices stopped until an ominous silence fell over the entire castle.

David felt his stomach tie into a knot. "Father?"

Lord Ki Kalendeen sighed. "Damn. That Necromancer must be more powerful than I thought. And if they couldn't stop him, I don't see what chance we have."

"What are we going to do?" asked Alexander.

Lord Ki Kalendeen closed his eyes and stood motionless for several seconds. "We are going to leave the castle, cross the west fork of the river, go into Lystra, and return with an army as soon as possible. Alexander, how much gold do you have in your pack?"

"Unless David took some of it out, I have several hundred gold."

"I didn't touch it!" David protested.

"It will have to be enough," said Lord Ki Kalendeen, as they started walking towards the west end of the castle. "We shall head north after we cross the river, then take the King's Road into Lystra. We should reach the city by evening. Our first task will be to contact the Holy Defenders. If they are truly men of God, they should be able to tell something is wrong up here, and will be debating sending a scouting party at first light. If we get separated, head for Lystra, and don't stop to wait for anyone. At least one of us must reach the city."

They passed several bodies, lying twisted on the ground. David took a short sword from one of the men dressed in guard livery, having left his other one in the study. The castle was still quiet. Thoughts of being the only survivors left in the castle began to assault his mind again. A well of emotion rippled through him as he remembered his mother, and how excited everyone had been about the events of today. As he awoke from his sleep this morning, David never would have thought that he would spend the day fighting and running for his life.

Suddenly, his father motioned for the group to stop and be silent. David gingerly set his pack down, making sure the coins didn't jingle again, thus betraying their presence to whatever it was his father had heard. Lord Ki Kalendeen motioned to the door that led to the servants' quarters. It was open, and David could hear the faint sounds of rustling from inside. His father motioned for him to stand at one side of the door and Alexander on the other. David quickly darted to the left side of the door, and his father slowly stepped into the room. He and Alexander looked at one another. Had they finally found a survivor of the day's horrific events?

A battle cry from their father answered his question. Alexander rushed into the room with his sword unsheathed, followed by David. Lord Ki Kalendeen was fighting three undead guards and a walking skeleton. With a quick, skillful slice, the former general disemboweled one of the guards and turned his attention to the skeletal warrior. David did not have time to react to the spilled innards of the former guard, as one of the others was upon him a heartbeat later. The undead guard swung its sword downward, trying to cleave him down the middle. David quickly sidestepped the blow and ran his short sword through the guard's side. His opponent quickly recovered, and David's blade wrenched free. The guard swung again and brought the sword back with a backhanded strike, aimed at David's neck. David skillfully dodged the attack again and struck at the guard's arm on his recoil. The blade made contact and three fingers of the undead beast's sword hand were severed at the knuckle. David quickly struck the left knee of his opponent, and his sword jarred as it struck bone. The creature crumpled to its unwounded knee and David darted to the side. He saw a quick flash of silver as Alexander's sword struck its mark, severing the creature's head. The body fell lifelessly to the ground.

Exhilaration coursed through David's body as he stared at the crumpled mess of flesh that had been his opponent. Although Alexander had struck the final blow, he had been winning a fight for what seemed to be the first time in his life. Looking up, he saw his father fighting the remains of the skeleton. It was missing an arm, several ribs, and its head, all of which were writhing on the floor. Alexander joined his father in the battle and within minutes, the undead warrior was reduced to a pile of severed bones, all moving with a life of their own. They both slumped against the wall, exhausted by the ordeal. Despite their obvious skill in battle, the skeleton had refused to die and had taken its toll on their stamina.

Alexander was the first to recover, speaking between panting breaths. "We had better... move on. The... entire castle... probably heard us."

Lord Ki Kalendeen nodded in agreement. David ran over to him and offered to help him back to his feet, but his father managed to stand of his own accord, using his sword to prop him up. The wound on his left arm started to bleed again. Both David and Alexander stood silently as they watched their father try to overcome the combination of exhaustion and pain.

From the hall came the sound of quick footsteps. All three men looked at each other with a look of worried anticipation as the footsteps came closer.

"Undead footsteps are usually slower. It must be another survivor," said Lord Ki Kalendeen. "David, go see who it is, but unless you know them, don't let yourself be seen. It could be the necromancer."

"Yes, father." David quickly darted to the door and peeked around the corner. He breathed a sigh of relief as the seven-foot tall massive frame of General Sagaroth came into view. David rushed out to meet him.

"General! Over here!"

Sagaroth smiled and quickened his pace. "David, I'm surprised to find you still alive. Where's your mother?"

David closed his eyes and hung his head. "She's dead, General." He looked up and noticed Sagaroth's hand clenched into a fist, shaking with anger. "Have you found any other survivors, sir?"

"No, David. I think we are the last." Sagaroth placed his left hand on David's shoulder, grabbing hold of his cloak. With his right hand, he reached behind his back.

"Lord General, my father and brother are still alive. We are going to try and get to Lystra and bring back an entire army!"

Sagaroth let go of David's cloak and nonchalantly removed his hand from behind him. "Oh. In that case, we had better join them."

David straightened out his cloak and tunic as they walked down the hall. Why had Sagaroth grabbed him so hard? And what was he reaching for behind his back? He began to feel a bit uneasy. Something was wrong. He was about to questions the General when his brother and father stepped out into the hall.

"General Sagaroth! I'm glad to see you're still alive," said Lord Ki Kalendeen. "How did you manage to avoid the undead and the necromancer?"

The tips of Sagaroth's mustache turned upwards as he smiled. "I'm no stranger to combat, Ki Kalendeen. I've survived in far worse situations than this. Although, this battle has cost me every last one of my men."

Lord Ki Kalendeen nodded while staring at the large general thoughtfully. "My condolences regarding your men. Please also deliver them to their families when you return to Aragil. But that is for another time. There is safety in numbers, General. Please, come with us. We are leaving the castle."

"Of course. After you, sir."

The four men started down the hallway towards the western end of the castle. Alexander and David took the lead, with their father close behind them, and Sagaroth bringing up the rear. David stalked ahead a bit, listening for sounds of movement and watching the shadows carefully in case of another surprise attack. The tension was mounting again, as his stomach tied itself in knots. They continued walking down the hall, the only sound being their footfalls against the stone floor.

David glanced back to make sure he wasn't outdistancing the party too greatly. He was relieved to see they were only five legs behind. His relief suddenly turned into terror as he saw General Sagaroth reach behind him and pull out a long, curved dagger. He tried to yell a warning, but his throat produced no sound. Time seemed to slow and all he could do was watch in horror as Sagaroth plunged the dagger into his father's back. Lord Ki Kalendeen let out a gasp as he dropped to his knees, then fell forward, producing a loud smack as his forehead hit the stone floor.

Alexander looked in disbelief at the still figure of his father, the knife still imbedded in his back. He drew his sword, no emotions evident on his face. "You traitorous, pus-sucking bastard!"

General Sagaroth also drew his sword. Its hilt turned to bone and glowed with a blood-red light. Evil emanated from the blade as the glow became stronger. David felt his knees go weak as he was bathed in the red light, the stench of burning sulfur filling his nostrils. The vileness of the scent and the waves of pure, unrestrained evil permeated his soul, making his flesh feel as if it wanted to drop from his bones in large, bloody chunks. Sagaroth sneered as he stepped over Lord Ki Kalendeen, pointing the sword at Alexander.

David drew his sword and moved towards Sagaroth's side, dropping the pack he had been carrying. Alexander yelled without taking his eyes off of his opponent. "Run, David! RUN!!!"

Alexander lunged forward with a precise slash aimed at the General's chest. Sagaroth effortlessly parried, slicing off the blade of Alexander's sword halfway to the hilt. With a quick, fluid motion, he thrust the blade through Alexander's heart, puncturing his breastplate as if it was not even there. He pulled the blade free and Alexander fell to the ground. He quickly slashed at David, who tried to block the blow. The hellblade sliced through David's sword, cleaving the blade off at the hilt. David rolled to the side, putting distance between himself and Sagaroth. Out of desperation, he threw the hilt of his sword at Sagaroth's head, but the blade missed its mark, sailing past and clattering on the floor some distance away. Sagaroth took one step towards him, and David turned and ran down the hallway as fast as his long young legs would carry him. He heard Sagaroth cursing him as the large general tried to keep up, slowed down by his great mass and the extra weight of his full battle armor.

David was able to tell that he was outdistancing Sagaroth by the reduction in volume of the clang of armored feet against stone, the steady stream of curses that continually flooded his ears. The smell of burnt food assaulted his nostrils as he sped past the kitchen door. He nimbly rounded the corner and came to a halt. He only had seconds. To his right, a door to the servants' quarters hung open. To his left was a dark supply closet. He quickly reached over and slammed the door to the servants' quarters, creating a much louder noise than necessary. He then jumped into the closet, allowing the darkness to envelop him, concealing him from his pursuer.

Sagaroth rounded the corner, still shouting frustrated curses. He turned to the servants' quarters door and kicked it in with one quick blow. "You shall not escape me that easily, you little ferret!" Sagaroth disappeared from David's view as he turned over pallets and sliced through chests with his hellish sword.

Quietly, David emerged from the dark closet. His heart was pounding so hard, he thought it would jump out of his chest. Fear kept his rage and sorrow at bay as he slithered down the hallway, back the way he came. He slipped into the kitchen and quietly closed the door, placing the wooden locking bar across it. The smell of burnt meat and bread emanated from the large brick ovens, filling the room with a light smoke. David tried to suppress a fit of coughing. He picked up a cleaning cloth and dunked it into a water barrel, then tied it behind his head, covering his nose and mouth. He took a deep, filtered breath as his racing heart slowed to normal.

He was startled by the sound of the pantry door opening. A blond-haired boy, not much older than he, looked at him with hollow, expressionless eyes. A blood-stained slash across his chest told David that he was facing yet another of the walking dead. The creature grabbed a kitchen knife and moved towards him. David fumbled for his flask, which was tucked securely in his belt. He opened the lid and splashed the Holy Water in the undead monster's face. The creature let out a guttural hiss as the skin on its face began to blister and char. It dropped its knife and raised its hands. David threw the remaining Holy Water at the boy. It dropped to the ground and convulsed violently, smoke rising from its burning flesh. Soon, it lay still. David moved the burnt hands of the creature from its face, which was charred beyond recognition.

A plan formed in his mind. He quickly pulled off his cloak and tunic, also removing the shirt from the lifeless corpse. He slipped the blood stained shirt on and struggled to place his tunic and cloak on the dead boy's body. His breath became short as he heard the clang of armored footsteps coming down the hall towards him.

David realized there was a shortcoming to his plan. The Holy Water had burnt the boy's face, but there was no logical explanation for the cause of the burns. He quickly looked around the room, and he found the answer. He grabbed another cleaning cloth from a nearby table, and then ran over to the hearth. He gingerly removed a pot of hot chicken fat hanging over the dying fire. Carrying the searing hot grease to the body, he poured the contents of the small cauldron on the face, hands, and chest of the boy. The melted fat splattered and spit as it touched moist flesh.

A steady pounding on the door echoed through the kitchen. David set the pot on the ground quietly then darted into the pantry. He closed the door and was encompassed by darkness, the only light streaming in through a knothole in the door. He waited. There was the sound of wood splintering as the door to the kitchen gave way.

David squatted down and peered through the knothole. Through the growing layers of smoke, he saw Sagaroth standing over the dead servant boy's body. The evil man had a satisfied smile on his face. His expression turned to one of puzzlement and he began to quickly search the kitchen. The large General began walking towards the pantry. David's heart felt like it stopped. He quietly reached into his boot, unsheathing the dagger his father had given him. He crouched down, ready to strike the second the door opened.

An unfamiliar voice came from the kitchen. "Ah, General Sagaroth. There you are."

David heard Sagaroth's footfalls grow more distant. He relaxed and peeked through the knothole. The other man who had spoken was dressed in a brown robe. David recognized him as the necromancer from outside the chapel. He was a very nondescript man, brown hair, brown eyes, and of average weight and height. Sagaroth walked over to the man and, removing his armored gauntlet, punched him full strength in the chin. The necromancer dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

"Damn you, Dameus! I told you Arianna Ki Kalendeen was not to be harmed!" bellowed Sagaroth. He pulled the dazed necromancer to his feet and shook him violently. "I should run you through for this!"

Dameus came to his senses and spat two teeth from his bleeding mouth. "I'm sorry that she was killed, Sagaroth, but undead are not exactly known for their subtlety!"

Sagaroth's eyes widened and he threw the smaller man across the room. Dameus landed hard against the far stone wall and dropped to the ground. He quickly stood up as Sagaroth marched towards him. He held out his hand, and a yellow light shot forth, enveloping the advancing general, who froze in mid-step, anger plastered across his red face.

"Damn you, Sagaroth! You don't know your own strength! That damn well hurt!" yelled the necromancer. "Now stop your pointless attacks upon me! I'm sorry that the Ki Kalendeen woman is dead, but there is nothing anyone can do about it." The light dimmed and Sagaroth stumbled as he tried to regain his balance.

"When I give an order, I expect it to be obeyed!" He removed the hell blade from its sheath. Dameus took a step backwards. "And attacks on superior officers are met with death. Kadeus said I was in charge of this operation and you are to do as I say. You seem to keep forgetting this point. Next time, I shall kill you." He placed the sword back in its sheath.

"I acknowledge your leadership, General, but do not provoke me by drawing my blood again." Dameus rolled his tongue around in his mouth, checking for more loose teeth. "It would appear our mission is a success."

Sagaroth took a few deep breaths to calm himself. Dameus pointed towards the young body lying on the ground in congealing chicken fat. "Is this the youngest Ki Kalendeen boy?"

Sagaroth nodded. "Yes. I don't know where the undead is who killed him."

Dameus picked up the cloth David had used to carry the chicken fat and wiped the blood from his mouth. He looked at the bloody rag and shook his head. "My perfect teeth," he sighed. His attention went back to the large general. "It's around somewhere, probably in the meat cellar looking for rats. I'm going to dispel the lesser undead soon. It should be quite a mystery to whoever first arrives at the castle, finding only servants, guards, and wedding guest bodies."

"What about the skeletons?"

"I have plans for them, the two that are left, anyway."

The two men walked out of the kitchen. "You know, General, Lord Ki Kalendeen is still clinging to life. I'm sure he would go to the grave a happy man knowing that his sons will be waiting for him."

Sagaroth's laugh could be heard from the hall. The voices faded into the distance. David sat still, terrified to even take a breath, for fear he would be heard. He forced himself to count to one hundred before he even moved. Standing up, he gently opened the pantry door and darted back into the kitchen. He stepped over the body and glanced quickly down the hall. It was empty, save the bodies of his father and brother. He made his way down the hall to them.

Tears filled his eyes at the sight that lay before him. He knelt down beside his brother's body, which lay face down on the cold stone floor, and began to weep deeply. He sat there, knees soaking in cooling blood, and cried. The loss of his brother and father were too much to bear.

A feeble cough startled him and he jumped to his feet, ready to run. No one was there. He heard another cough and realized it had come from his father, who was lying on his side, face covered with his cloak. He quickly darted over to him and removed the blood-stained cloak from the dying lord's face. "Father?" he said.

Lord Ki Kalendeen weakly opened his eyes and looked up at David. A relieved smile crossed his face and he began cry. His mouth made a motion as if to speak but he started to cough again.

David sat down next to him. "Father, don't talk. I'll take you to town and find a healer."

Lord Ki Kalendeen shook his head. He reached up and grabbed David's soot-stained golden hair, pulling his youngest son close to him. His voice was barely more than a whisper. "You wily little trickster. Praise be to God on high."

"Father, we have to go."

"David... an invasion. The forces of Aragil. You must go to New Portsmouth. Find a ship."

David pulled back in surprise. "New Portsmouth? Father, why do you want me to go to New Portsmouth?"

Lord Ki Kalendeen motioned for David to come closer. "Find a ship, go to Port Cirill. Take a riverboat to..." A spasm rocked his body and he winced in pain.

"To Avonshire?"

The dying lord nodded. "David," he said. "Remember what I taught you." He stroked David's hair and they both wept. "Son... My beloved son. David, always walk in the light." Coughing one more time, he opened his eyes wide. A faint smile came to him as he reached out in front of him, past David. "The light...." His breathing stopped, his extended arm dropped to the ground, and the once great general of the Elgannan armies lay still.

David reached over and closed his father's eyes. Emptiness filled his being, but he cried no longer. The feelings of sorrow had been replaced by a bitter blend of fear and hatred.

David looked around. The castle grew darker as the sun began to set. Night would be upon him soon, and he had no intention of staying the night in his desecrated home. He picked up Alexander's pack, which he had discarded earlier, and stood up, slinging it over his shoulder. The weight of its contents combined with his exhaustion and caused him to stumble. The coins jingled loudly in the bottom of the heavy pack. A cool breeze blew through the hall, sending a shiver across his skin.

He began to run toward the rear of the castle. His footsteps and heavy breaths echoed through the empty corridors. The castle felt still and empty, as did his soul. Everything his life had been was now gone, ripped away from him. He felt so alone.

The door to one of the servants' dining halls was open, a dead guard lying just inside. David gingerly stepped over the body, leery that it might snap back to life and attack. He walked around the large table to the single open window. The setting sun bathed him in amber light as he climbed outside. He landed lightly two legs below the window as he dropped to the ground. Quickly, he darted past the small orchard of trees that lie before the River Vissik, emerging at the bank. The river was ten legs across and fairly shallow. Fear urged him into the water. The icy touch of the water on his legs made his skin prickle into goose bumps. He was quickly up to his waist in water, desperately trying to keep his footing on the slippery stones that made up the river bed. Finally, he reached the far bank. He quickly ran into the woods, leaving his former, empty home far behind.

* * * * * *

The wooden sword was deflected strongly by the armored knight's shield. Knocked off balance, Gabriel staggered as he tried to remain standing. The knight spun, striking him on his left arm. Reeling from the stinging pain, Gabriel dropped his shield.

As he reached down for it, a burly priest in a brown robe clapped his hands. "Brother Gabriel! You have been struck. You have lost the use of your left arm for the remainder of the fight. Leave your shield where it fell."

Gabriel grumbled, but did as he was told. The other two combatants, also dressed in white robes, rounded on the armored knight. They finally had him surrounded. One of the other white-clad men charged with a mighty shout. The knight turned to face him. Gabriel's other ally took the opportunity and jumped to attack as well, only to be met with a shield in the abdomen. The first attacker tried to deflect the knight's wooden sword, falling backwards on the ground. Gabriel stepped forward slowly, confident that he had the advantage, attacking from the rear. His breath left him as the knight kicked backwards, catching him in the solar plexus. He was barely aware of two wooden clacks and the priest's voice.

"Brother Demetrius, Brother Jonathan, you are both dead! Please lie still for the remainder of the fight."

The knight charged at full force. Gabriel raised his practice sword in an attempt at a defense. The knight swung with three quick strikes, which were scarcely deflected. The knight thrust his sword forward, to end the contest quickly. Gabriel rolled forward and to his right, coming up to his knees beside the armored figure. He swung and caught the knight on his left thigh. The wooden sword produced a clang as it struck the armored leg. He hadn't even pulled his sword back in defense when he felt a sharp sting on his ribs.

The priest clapped his hands again. "Brother Tobias, you have achieved victory, but in your haste, you were horribly wounded. Learn from this. Brother Gabriel, you are dead, but I must say that was a marvelous move, that tumble of yours. A bit unorthodox, but effective. It is rare that an initiate strikes his mentor during the Test of Combat."

Tobias removed his metal helmet, desperately gasping for breath, shaking loose his thick, glistening brown hair. He reached down, offering his hand to Gabriel. The hand was accepted and the young initiate was pulled to his feet. Tobias grinned. "I knew if there was anyone who would strike me during my Test of Combat, it would be you, Gabriel."

The other two initiates stood up, both holding their chests where Tobias' sword had struck. The muscular priest let out a hearty chuckle as he crossed the testing area to the two bruised young men. "Brothers, that was a most pathetic display of martial prowess. Since Brother Tobias shall be graduating, a new mentor shall be selected for you, under which you will spend another three months in weapons training!"

"Yes, Father Alexis!" said Jonathan as he made a fist and brought his right arm up to his shoulder in the usual Holy Defender salute.

"Bloody hell!" muttered Demetrius under his breath. "Yes, Father Alexis!" he said, also saluting.

"Brother Demetrius, your extra comment was uncalled for. Report to the master at arms to be assigned to your new mentor. Brother Jonathan, you may spend the rest of the day in reflection and prayer. You will report to the master at arms in the morning. Brother Gabriel, you are excused from your duties until the Sabbath. You have earned the honor of becoming a high initiate and mentor yourself. If the remainder of your training and testing goes well, you shall be elevated to knighthood in four years time."

Gabriel saluted the short, stocky priest. "Thank you, Father Alexis!"

"Brother Tobias, you have passed the Test of Combat. You shall soon undergo the Test of Knowledge. If you pass it, you shall have the honor of the Test of the Angelic Blade. Meet the council in the Tribunal room at sunrise. And Brother Tobias, well done." The priest nodded approvingly at the armored initiate.

Tobias saluted. "Thank you, Father Alexis."

"You are all dismissed!" The priest turned and walked away from the group, wiping the sweat from atop his balding head.

Demetrius kicked a pebble in frustration. "Damn!" he swore.

Tobias put his hand on the young man's shoulder. "You brought it on yourself, my friend. I've warned you time and time again about..."

"I know, I know!" interrupted Demetrius, brushing his mentor's hand from his shoulder. "The thing that truly makes my jewels ache is that Father Alexis favors those of you who were noble born, while us commoners have to..."

Demetrius' voice faded away as Gabriel lost himself in thought. It was the same argument Demetrius always put forth to rationalize his failures. There may have been some truth to it, but not as much as he claimed.

The setting sun bathed Gabriel in amber light as it slowly disappeared behind the west wall of the University. He had arrived and begun his training three years ago, forsaking his family and all that he was to dedicate his life to serving the Church. It was an easy decision, though. Ever since childhood, Gabriel felt a burning desire to serve God in the way he was best suited. Given his general dislike for scholarship, becoming a Holy Defender seemed the most logical choice. While he was by no means short on wit, Gabriel found the idea of sitting for hours on end in a library day after day, reading and translating ancient manuscripts, extremely dull. He had always been physically strong and had gained a lot of early fighting skills by wrestling and staff fighting his older brother, Alexander. Throughout their childhood, the two boys were constantly trying to assert their dominance by tests of strength, agility, and combat. And although Gabriel was physically stronger, Alexander always seemed to get the upper hand, either by biting, pulling his long black hair, or kicking him in the groin. Retaliation was always an option, but Gabriel believed in fighting fair and would never sink to Alexander's level.

A black-haired figure waved to him from atop the west wall, bringing him out of his thoughts and back into the present. He held his hand up in front of his eyes to shield him from the bright setting sun and returned the wave. The figure made a hand motion that he was unable to make out, and ran towards the corner tower. Eleenia, his younger sister, had arrived at Avonshire a year and a half ago. In another few years, she could return to Lystra, an opportunity that his chosen path would never allow. A small wave of sadness washed over him. He missed his family terribly, and other than his uncle Rameus, his sister was the only link he had to them.

Eleenia appeared from the lower level of the tower and ran across the courtyard towards him. She was at the University to learn the art of healing, although her studies ranged from politics to botany. She had wanted to learn archery, but the master at arms would never allow it. Women were forbidden by the University to attend any martial arts classes, but Eleenia, like always, had managed to find a way around the rules. Much to Gabriel's disapproval, she had befriended the daughter of a mercenary captain several months ago. The mercenary's daughter, Janelle Argos, had been teaching Eleenia all that her father and brother had taught her. Gabriel had tried to stop her, but with one as strong-willed as Eleenia, he might as well have tried to stop the sun from rising.

Eleenia reached the group and gave her brother a quick hug. Tobias greeted her with a deep bow, which was quickly and awkwardly mimicked by the other two initiates.

"So how was your Test of Combat, Brother Tobias?" she asked.

Tobias smiled. "I was victorious, no thanks to your brother." He tried to give Gabriel a quick kick on the behind, but the young initiate was too fast and jumped out of the range of his foot.

"Congratulations are in order," said Eleenia.

"Yes, for me and your brother. He has been selected to become a mentor."

Eleenia turned to Gabriel and grabbed his hand. "Oh, Gabriel! That's wonderful! I can't wait to send a letter home. Father will be so proud of you!"

Gabriel put his hand on his sister's shoulder. "Thank you, El."

Demetrius gave a heavy sigh. "Well, I hate to bust this up, but I gots to report to the bloody master at arms." He turned and walked back towards the barracks, shaking his head and muttering about favoritism.

Tobias shook his head disappointedly. "With an attitude like that, he shall never be knighted."

"What he says does make some sense, though, Brother Tobias," said Jonathan. He covered his mouth as he coughed, then wiped his hand on the side of his robe. "One hundred years ago, someone of his birth status would not have even been allowed to become an initiate, even one from such a highly renowned family as the Pinkertons." He coughed again and spat on the ground while rubbing his chest.

A servant boy ran up to the group and began to collect the practice weapons.

Gabriel nodded. "Indeed, and if Bishop Sentius had his way..."

Tobias held up his hand to silence Gabriel. "That's a statement that doesn't need completing, Brother." He handed his shield and wooden sword to the young boy.

"Yes, Brother. My apologies."

Jonathan gave off a deeper, productive cough, spitting again when he finished. "What are you going to do with your leave time, Gabriel?" he said, as he handed his sword to the boy.

Gabriel glanced towards the north gate in the direction of the main city. "I'll be spending tomorrow in prayer, then I'll spend a few days in Avonshire."

Jonathan smiled and nodded. "I wish I could come with you. Perhaps the master of arms will permit me to have a day away from the University." He began to cough again.

Eleenia stepped towards Jonathan with a concerned look on her face. She reached down and clasped the side of his white tunic, drawing it closer for her examination. A small patch of smeared blood was visible where he had wiped his hand. "Jonathan, were you struck in the combat test?" she asked.

"Yes. Once with Tobias' shield, and once with his sword. But don't trouble yourself, El. I am fine."

Eleenia's expression turned skeptical. "Fine, eh? Tell me, does this hurt?" She quickly jabbed two fingers into his ribs, right below his left pectoral muscle.

Jonathan winced and stepped back, holding his ribs. He began to cough again.

Tobias handed his helmet to the boy, who scampered off. "Is something wrong with him, El?"

"I'm fine. It's just a bit tender from that shield blow you landed," protested Jonathan.

"I think you're bleeding from inside, and one of your ribs might be broken," said Eleenia, and she gently felt the spot she had poked earlier. "Come on, I'll take you to the infirmary." She gently began to lead the coughing initiate away from the courtyard.

Tobias brought his fingers up to his mouth and began to nervously chew his nails. "Brother Jonathan, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to strike you that hard."

Jonathan waved his mentor's apology away. "It was my fault. I shouldn't have let you get through my defenses."

"We'll come to the infirmary shortly to check on you."

Jonathan nodded as Eleenia led him away.

Gabriel called after her. "El, will you be joining us for the morning meal tomorrow?"

Eleenia turned away and avoided his gaze.

"Where are you going? I don't want you...."

"Gabriel!" interrupted Eleenia, "You are not my keeper!" She turned her attention back to Jonathan and continued to lead the wounded initiate towards the infirmary.

Tobias and Gabriel watched them as they disappeared into the high arched hallway that lead towards the main buildings. Gabriel shook his head disapprovingly. Tobias put his hand on the initiate's shoulder. "There's no harm in what she is doing, Gabriel. She only wishes to learn to defend herself. You should be glad. There are a lot of men in this world who would try to steal her virtue. And from what I've heard, Argos' daughter can change a man from a rooster to a hen in the bat of an eye and a flick of the wrist." Tobias grinned as Gabriel visibly cringed.

"Perhaps you're right. But still, seeking out those scruffy commoners. El is nobility! She is a lady and will someday marry a lord or a king! Assuming she ever gets over that stubbornness. A lord won't want his lady disobeying him or being able to best him in combat. She needs to learn to be more submissive and proper."

Tobias' eyes had not left Eleenia as she helped Jonathan along. "Hmm, I am not too sure about that, brother," he said absently. "And she is so beautiful! Her long black hair, her deep emerald eyes, her perfect alabaster skin..."

Gabriel gave his mentor a sideways glance. "And Holy Defenders aren't permitted to marry," he said, patting Tobias on the back. "Well, unless you are disgraced and remanded to the auxiliary."

Tobias sighed. "I know, brother. I know. I was just commenting on how your sister will someday make a very fine wife for a very lucky lord or king."

"Like your brother, Dorian?" Gabriel could tell as soon as the words had passed his lips that he had said the wrong thing.

Worry lines appeared on Tobias' face as the memories of his recently-deceased father and older brother, the king and heir apparent of Aragil, flooded through his mind. "Dorian is hardly worthy of a noble lady such as Eleenia. I would rather die a coward's death than see her marry that treacherous, sniveling troll!"

The two initiates stood in awkward silence, neither wanting to be the first to speak. The silence was broken as the evening bells began to toll, informing all students and clergy that it was time make their way back to their rooms. Servants, moments before busily stacking wood or shoveling horse manure, now set their tools of trade aside and formed a steady stream towards the northern gate, back into the main city to visit the pubs, brothels, and eventually their homes.

"Well, brother, I must get back to my room. Another big day tomorrow for me," said Tobias.

Gabriel gave a half smile and nodded his goodbye to his former mentor. "God be with you tomorrow on your Test of Knowledge."

Tobias nodded. "Thank you, Brother. And you be sure to say a few prayers for me."

"I shall."

Tobias looked Gabriel up and down as a smile crossed his lips. "Struck me in my test of combat," he said, shaking his head as he walked towards the large arched hallway.

Gabriel stood alone in the courtyard. The night had already begun to grow colder and he could now see his breath, illuminated only by the light of the full moon and the few lit torches that lined the University courtyard walls. Finally, he would be a mentor, which would exempt him from some of the more menial duties that initiates were required to perform. No more hauling trash to the middens, or lugging firewood from the huge wood pile into the kitchens at the crack of dawn. This was a day that initiates looked forward to, dreamed about, and prayed for. Yet for some reason, Gabriel was not happy. Something had started gnawing away at him, and a bad feeling in his gut brought the sharp, sour taste of bile to his tongue.

A carrier pigeon cooed as it was released from a scribe's window. It flapped its wings and flew against the cool night air, silhouetted across the moon. Gabriel followed the sound as it cleared the inner wall and flew off to the west. Silence once again fell over the courtyard and brought his mind back to the queasy feeling in his stomach. Something was definitely not right.

* * * * * *

"I heard that the Devil himself showed up and struck 'em all down where they stood. They found nothin' but charred boots with smoke comin' out of 'em!" The carpenter that spoke the words nodded to his table companions knowingly.

One of the stable hands sharing the table with him shook his head. "No, no! There was a feud over the wedding! The Branvold girl changed her mind or something and they slaughtered each other!"

The speculations went on and on, as they had been all night. David had heard everything from mass suicide to a horrific disease. A few had suggested undead, but were scoffed at. Truth be told, all suggestions were scoffed at by someone. Every table in the common room of the Wayfarer's Inn was occupied by a group of people, and each one of them had their own hypothesis as to what had happened at the Ki Kalendeen castle the day before.

David set his cup on the table and turned his wooden chair to face the large open hearth. The heat that radiated from the fire did little to take the chill from his soul. He had stayed at the inn the night before, trying to keep as low a profile as a lone fourteen year old boy wearing clothes that were too big for him possibly could. In the morning he would board a riverboat bound for New Portsmouth. It would be good to put several days' journey between himself and his destroyed home. But David dreaded the trip. The boat would be packed full, as were all boats leaving Lystra. If he had been able to secure passage for yesterday, he would not be here right now.

A minstrel's flute carried across the smoke-filled air with lively music, in sharp contrast to the concerned muffled conversations. Occasionally, David could catch the scent of old ale, cooking meat, or spiced Iberian nightshade, but the odor of wood smoke dominated his nose. He had yet to get the smell of the smoke and fire off of him, and more to the point, out of him. When he breathed, he smelled it. When he coughed, he tasted it. If he closed his eyes, his mind would take him back to the chapel, under the pew and the pile of fallen timber. When he was alone, it would take him back to the slaughter. David couldn't decide which was worse, and he found himself wishing he hadn't dived under the pew. Had he died, he would at least be with his family and wouldn't have to face the future alone. He tried to put the thoughts from his mind as he drained the cup of the remaining creamed whiskey.

Having had a few drinks, the pain in his chest and abdomen had finally subsided. Between the smoke, coughing fits, and throwing up several times at the castle, his chest hurt any time he took a deep breath. He looked about and caught the eye of the innkeeper's wife, raising his empty glass signifying that he wanted a refill. "Please make sure it's cold if possible," he said. The kindly old lady smiled and nodded, mouthing something unintelligible. David returned his gaze to the fire. He was glad the room was fairly full. Being in a crowd was the only thing that caused his constant fear to subside, even if only slightly. He dreaded going back up to his room. Last night, he had slept soundly without a dream, but he was sure that was brought on by pure exhaustion. He had awoken and made his way to the common room, and had only left his table to relieve himself.

A grimy-looking man, thin with shifty eyes, glanced David's way from two tables down. His eyes shifted to the pack that sat at David's feet, then back. When his gaze was met, he turned away, pretending to be interested in what his tablemate was saying. David slid the pack closer to him with his foot, wincing as it fell over, the coins inside giving away a telltale jingle.

The Hammer and Anvil Tavern was one of the nicer inns in Lystra. It was situated a few streets away from the large river docks, and was frequented by merchants and riverboat officers. The common room was filled with circular tables, surrounded by three or four sturdy wooden chairs each. A small stage was in one corner of the room, where the bard danced about, alternating between playing his flute and singing about a woman of some sort. The walls were lined with sooty, dim lanterns and poorly rendered paintings of people David didn't recognize. The large open hearth, almost in the center of the room, provided most of the light as a fire blazed from the treated and stacked logs. Serving girls darted between tables, taking orders and delivering food and drink.

"Here you go, lad. You had better not drink too much more of that, or you'll make yourself sick as a stray dog!" The stout woman set the cup of creamed whiskey on his table. "That'll be a copper." David reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out two. He handed them to the woman with a forced and pained smile. The innkeeper's wife smiled back, but genuinely. David had been tipping her well since his first order, and thus she had ordered the other serving girls to stay clear of his table.

"Lad, are you sure you won't eat something? I can bring you a nice hot bowl of venison stew..."

"No thank you, ma'am," David interrupted.

"You are going to rot your gut if you just keep drinking without putting something solid in you," she insisted. A few of the other patrons looked their way.

Anxious to avoid attention, David nodded. "I shall have a few crusts of bread, then."

"Hmpf" was the only reply he received. The woman waddled off, muttering under her breath about David making himself sick.

A dull ache sank in David's stomach. She was beginning to remind him of his kindly old Nana, another person ripped from his life for reasons he couldn't bear to think about. The emptiness once again began to consume him, and he quickly tried to focus on something else to keep the feelings out. Straining, he began to pick out distinct voices from the subdued murmurs of the crowd. His attention once again turned to the table occupied by the carpenter and the two stable hands.

"...had to close up shop. He said the looters took everything before the town watch got there," the rail thin stable hand said.

"Well, that's nothin'. Half the bloody watch walked off their rounds today. With the mayor and magistrates dead, plus the entire town counsel, there be no one to pay them. I give it two days before the rest of them walk off their jobs. Then God in heaven help us." The carpenter bit his lip as he considered the words he had just spoken.

"Aye, God help us indeed," replied the thin stable hand.

The larger stable hand, quiet up until now, nodded thoughtfully. "You're right. Lystra will quickly turn into a thieves' den. How many Holy Defenders are there in the town right now? Four? And not a red-cloak in sight! Plus, the Royal Bank has closed up shop until things settles down." He took a drink from the tall stein in his hand. "Lord Ki Kalendeen can burn in hell for the mess he's left us in."

David turned his attention elsewhere. He hadn't thought his heart could drop any lower, until he had heard that last comment. His fought back his instinct to lash out at the three men, to demand to know where they had been when everyone was slaughtered, why they hadn't taken up arms and rushed to the castle when they saw the smoke. No, an outburst like that would only get him hurt further and worse yet, noticed. Who knows who might be on the lookout for him?

Being in a crowd seemed less and less attractive to David as his mind brought images of Aragil spies looking to slay any Ki Kalendeens that may have survived. Shuddering, he grabbed his cup and sucked down the contents in four gulps. The sweet, thick, white liquid rolled down his throat, taking away a bit more of the burning. His eyes began to get heavy as the alcohol made its way through his body.

He jumped as the metal plate containing his bread was dropped on the table with a clatter. "Thank you, M'lady," David said as he handed two coppers to the scrutinizing woman. Taking them, she walked away shaking her head, muttering again.

David took a few quick bites of the bread, but because of the smoke and the creamed whiskey, it was difficult to taste. He set it back on its plate, and reached under his chair to grab his pack. As he bent over, he felt the room begin to spin a bit. Hoisting the pack over his shoulder, he stood up while trying not to stagger and headed up the narrow stairs to his small room.

* * * * * *

Morning in Lystra found the streets practically deserted. Stores and shops refused to open their doors, and street vendor carts lay empty and overturned. David shivered as he walked towards the docks through the heavy, early spring rain, dirt streets quickly turning to mud beneath his feet. The only buildings that had their doors open were a few of the larger inns and pubs, ones that had hired on their own guards. The looting had gotten steadily worse, and several shops had been burned to the ground during the night. If it hadn't been for the fortuitous sudden downpour of rain, the entire city may have gone up in flames.

Lystra was a fairly young city, and had grown due to its proximity to the Blackrock Mountains. Mining and smithing were the city's lifeblood. Being situated upon the Vissik river, it had easy access to Kheog, New Portsmouth, and more importantly, the sea. Riverboats, filled with iron and steel ingots, leaving the great Lystra docks were not an uncommon sight. Over the past several generations, however, weapons and armor were more commonly shipped out to sea with their destination being Port Cirill. The war had caused another boom in the city's growth, but Lord Ki Kalendeen, as his father before him, had managed to keep the growing pains at a minimum. Today, however, the large smelting furnaces were unused, the smith forges growing cold, and the usual ringing of hammers against iron gave way to a terrible silence.
David hurried along the muddied streets, coins in his pack jingling as he walked. "Lad!"

David jumped at the sudden noise and turned around. A man wearing gleaming silver chain mail armor stood before him. His sword was in its scabbard, but his gleaming shield bearing five overlaid crosses was held in his left hand. A cloak of royal blue hung from his shoulders, the end muddied from walking through the streets. A Holy Defender. David wiped the rain water from his eyes and forehead. "Yes sir?"

"What is a boy of your age doing wandering the streets at a time like this?" The Defender's voice rang with confidence and authority. "You had best get home to your family. Haven't you heard what's happening?"

"I know, sir. Lord Ki Kalendeen is dead, along with the rest of the city leadership." David's voice turned cold as he spoke the words.

The Defender nodded. "Aye, 'tis a tragedy. Lord Ki Kalendeen was a Godly man. But that is not of what I was speaking. The Aragil army has reached the border villages and claimed them in the name of King Dorian. They met with no resistance and are securing the villages. Kheog is their next destination, I fear, then Lystra. They shall be here in a few days time. If I were you, I'd get home now. These blasted looters are everywhere."

David bit his lip at the news. His father had been right. "Sir, I am on my way to the docks. I have passage aboard a river boat and it sails in under an hour." David dropped his head towards the muddy street. "My family was killed in a fire last night," he lied.

The Defender put his armored hand on David's shoulder. "I'm sorry, lad. I shall remember you and your family in my prayers."

David forced a smile at the man. "Thank you, sir. Now if you will excuse me..."

"Lad, do you have a destination?"

"Yes, sir. I have family in..." David's mind raced. He didn't want to give away his destination, just in case the knight had recognized him and had a loose tongue. "In...Northpoint, sir."

"Northpoint, eh?" The Defender looked over David and smiled. "I thought you looked like a merchant's son. Was your papa a shop keeper?"

David nodded. He felt bad about lying again to a man in service to God, but he could take no chances.

"Well, lad, I'll see you to your ship. Come on." The Defender began walking towards the docks. David hurried after him. They walked the distance in an uncomfortable silence, the only sounds being their sloshing footfalls against the streets and the occasional jingling of David's pack.

A sound of a crowd began to grow, and within minutes, it was dominating the city. Rounding the corner, David's heart fell as he saw the large crowds of people pressing towards the one ship docked at the wharf... His ship. At least seventy-five people were crowding the docks.

The small crew of the riverboat attempted to block the gangplank as townspeople tried to push their way on board. The captain was screaming at the top of his lungs from within the crowd, ten people shouting at him at once.

Tightening the grip on his pack, David made his way towards the crowd. At least he had the foresight to buy his passage in advance, he thought, as he pulled the small piece of parchment from his inside tunic pocket. A few people had started throwing things towards the ship. Rocks and other debris were barely deflected by the tired-looking crew's shields. One woman tried to shove her way past the blockade. David lost sight of her as he entered the crowd, but the high-pitched scream and splash of water told him she was unsuccessful. He looked back towards the Holy Defender, but only caught a glimpse of him as the man darted towards the gangplank to pull the woman from the river.

Pushing through the crowd, David finally managed to get near the captain. A tall bald man held the captain's attention as the two screamed at each other.

"We're not honoring your passage and that's final! The price is now seventeen....I mean twenty five gold!" Another wave of anger rose from the crowd at the captain's last statement.

"Oh yeah?" screamed the tall bald man. He poked the captain in the chest with his index finger, causing the captain to stagger backwards a step. "Either you honor our passages, or we'll chop up you and your crew and take your ship for ourselves!" The crowd shouted in agreement and began to move towards the ship.

The crew drew their swords. The two lead crewmen of the blockade began to swing their weapons in defensive arcs, daring the rioters to step onto the gangplank. People again began to pick up rocks and throw them at the ship and crewmen.

David tried to get the captain's attention by waving his passage at him. Another man, average height, but somewhat large thrust a small pouch at the captain.

"I'll give you thirty gold if you let me on that ship right now and set sail!"

"Done!" said the captain. He put the pouch in his pocket as he glanced at David. Quickly, he ripped David's passage from him and handed it to the man.

"Hey!" David screamed. The captain went to push him away and David kicked at his shins. The captain shoved him away as if he were an annoying dog. David fell hard face-first into a puddle of muddy water. People began to push forward towards the captain. The angry words of the crowd drowned out David's scream as someone stepped on his hand.

"QUIET!!! QUIET!!!" A loud voice boomed above the rest of the crowd. All commotion and conversation stopped as everyone turned to face the Holy Defender. He glared at the crowd, looking from face to face, eyes radiating strength and determination. "I cannot believe what I am seeing here! I thought Lystra was full of good Christian men and women, not dogs fighting over a scrap of meat! And to what end is this riot? If all of you were to crowd onto the ship, it would sink!"

"But the Aragil army is on their way!" screamed one of the women. The crowd shouted their agreements.

"They are more than a week away at least!" The Defender seemed unruffled by the crowd's sudden anger towards him. "Plenty of time to WALK to New Portsmouth, if that's where you're going. But what about when you reach it? This boat won't be able to go out to sea. What are you going to do? Riot again and steal another ship?"

"If need be!" shouted the tall, bald man.

"Well, I guarantee you the people of New Portsmouth would have beaten you to it. Although I don't know how much success they would have, considering Lord Eddington's town guards are still on duty! And his men are not as lenient on unruly citizens as Lord Ki Kalendeen's!"

A hushed murmur fell over the crowd as they considered the Defender's words. Slowly, they started dispersing, some heading off to secure a coach or horse, others milling about, eyeing the captain with subdued rage.

The Defender walked over to the man with David's passage and ripped it out of his hand. "That does not belong to you, sir! I suggest you get your gold back from the captain." The merchant opened his mouth to protest, but the Defender quickly held up his index finger and glared into his eyes. The merchant closed his mouth without making a sound.

"Thank you, sir," said David, wiping mud from his face and neck with the back of his sleeve.

The Defender gave an expressionless nod as his eyes shifted from the captain to David and back. A group of three well-dressed merchants began to talk at the same time to the Holy Defender, who made the futile gesture of raising his hand to silence them.

David slung his heavy pack over his shoulder and darted to the gangplank, getting in line behind the other two passengers, an older couple. One tall, red haired crewman remained on the plank. In the commotion, David had not noticed the others board the ship. The red haired crewman looked at the passenger's parchments, handed them back to him.

"Low passage gets choice of hold or deck."

"Hold, sir," the passenger.

"Two for the hold!" the crewman yelled. A boy younger than David rushed from the deck to the gangplank and escorted the man and his wife onto the ship.

"Next," the crewman said.

David showed him his passage parchment.

"High passage, eh? Share a cabin with two others or you want the small room under the stairs?"

"Would I have to share it?"

The crewman shook his head, chuckling. "There be hardly enough room for someone as small as you, boy!"

"That will be fine. I prefer to be alone."

"Kip! Hurry up!"

The young boy returned, wiping his long, unkempt, rain-drenched hair from his face.

"Kip, take this gentleman to the shaft." The sailor shot David a half-toothed grin. "We'll have you in New Portsmouth soon enough, boy."

The boy nodded and gestured for David to board the ship. The gangplank was slick from the rain, which had slowed to a drizzle. Left hand on the railing, right hand on the shoulder strap of his pack, David made his way carefully up the plank.

The deck was alive with activity. Men darted back and forth, making preparations for leaving the docks. The Vissik river was at least fifty legs wide at this point, downriver from the point where the north and south forks joined, downriver from castle Ki Kalendeen. The drizzling morning rain made the river ripple, the silver-gray sky reflecting on its surface.

David's thoughts were brought back to the present as the young boy reached up to take the pack from him. David jerked away, thrusting his left hand into the smaller boy's chest. Kip staggered backwards and steadied himself by grabbing hold of the railing. David glared at him in silent warning. Kip bit his lip and frowned. Keeping his distance from David, he led him down the stairs to a small door, barely higher than one leg in height. Kip opened the door, forced a smile, and hurried back up the stairs without a word.

The shaft, as they called it, was completely dark, had only a pallet on the floor and a shelf for possessions, and smelled of a combination of body odor and old ale. David ducked through the small doorway. Leaving the door open so as to have some light, he quickly poked around the pallet, checking for rats.

"Glad I didn't get the low passage," he muttered as he removed the heavy pack from his shoulder. Dropping it on the pallet, it landed with a jingling thud. He pulled the door shut behind him, causing the room to become pitch black. Taking his damp cloak off, he tossed it to the foot of the pallet, laid down, and tried to fall asleep.

The taste of smoke rose to his mouth as he coughed, long, deep, and ragged. He pulled the pack to his chest, opening it and feeling his way through the contents. Most of the clothes inside were too big for him. He was torn, however, between selling them in New Portsmouth and holding on to them. They were all he had left of Alexander. A lump rose in his throat as he thought about his brother for the first time since leaving the castle. Alexander... His last words in this world had been concern for David's safety. A flood of emotional memories washed over him. He had been much closer to Alexander than he ever could be with Gabriel. He remembered all of the good times they had, running through the castle, swimming in the Vissik, playing pranks on family and staff, and endless hours spent wrestling, half filled with anger, half on the brink of passing out from laughter. But never again.

David clutched one of Alexander's shirts and drew it to his chest. He choked up and tears began to pour from his eyes. Lying on the sweat-stained pallet, he wept in the darkness. All of his family crossed his mind, his father, mother, even his nanny Jolina. Every last one of them was gone forever. Even the Branvolds were gone, except Liam. Had the Bishop gotten the children away, as his father believed? David could only hope and pray that they did.

Prayer... he couldn't bring himself to speak to God, not after all that happened. His emotions wreaked havoc with him, as he was torn in half by the consuming void left by the death of his family and the unbearable guilt that he had survived. His inner voice told him he should have died with his father and brother.

'Why did I survive? What kind of son was I? I could have warned him! Why couldn't I scream!' He played out scenarios in his mind of what might have been. Warning his father of Sagaroth and the three of them defeating him. Plunging his sword into Sagaroth's groin. Dying on the floor next to his brother. Nothing he could imagine would ease his screaming inner voice or still his weeping.

David jumped as he was startled by footsteps on the stairs above his tiny room. The slight sensation of movement told him the ship had left the docks. They would be in New Portsmouth by midmorning tomorrow.

This was the first time since it happened that David had not gone to sleep drunk. Although it was still early, he hoped he would sleep straight through the journey. After double checking that his father's dagger was still in his right boot, David fell into an uneasy sleep.

* * * * * *

Gabriel's eyes shot open as the three-toned bells of the Cathedral filled the small room. Four times they rang, indicating it was four hours after sunrise. He had had another nightmare, making at least one each night for the last four nights. He tried to focus on it to and force it to make sense, but it slipped away from his grasp as sand through his fingers.

Gabriel stretched on his bed, taking in a deep breath of the cool morning air. Pushing his blanket aside, he sat up and placed his feet upon the cold stone of his initiate's room. Since his window faced west, the morning sun was not a problem. He had not been sleeping well lately, which was probably why he had overslept by three hours. He had missed the morning meal, and the empty feeling in his stomach painfully reminded him of that fact. It was two hours before high noon. Tobias would be deep in his test of knowledge now, trying his best to prove his worthiness to become knighted, and thus a full brother.

This was the first time in as long as he could remember that he had been able to sleep late. Usually he was awakened by a taskmaster before the first bell, being ordered to do some sort of manual labor before the morning meal. He had learned a long time ago to stay out of trouble in general, or he would find himself collecting and cleaning the priests' and nuns' chamber pots, scrubbing the lavatories, or hauling the rotten food from behind the kitchen to the middens. Young initiates were often rudely awakened to the realities of the order's training, it being nothing like what they expected. On good days, he would haul and chop wood for the kitchens, polish armor and weapons, wax the floors in the Defender's Hall or the Cathedral, or read to the old, retired, bed-ridden knights and clergy who no longer had use of their eyes.

But now that he was a mentor, those days were behind him. Within a few weeks, he would be assigned initiates of his own, sons of nobles and merchants from all of the surrounding countries. Although the war waged on between Elgannan and the Caledonia / Gylinia alliance, once a young man decided to join the Order, he gave up all claims to family and country. Tobias, his mentor, was a prime example, who it turns out had given up the chance to be King of Aragil. When Gabriel had asked him about whether he regretted his decision to join the Holy Defenders, Tobias thought for a moment, then confidently answered that it was well worth all he had given up, and more.

Gabriel decided to try and find Eleenia. It was two days until the Sabbath, and he remembered that his sister didn't have classes today. He hoped she was making her rounds at the infirmary, although given the time, she may have already completed them. Gabriel decided to check her room first, then the infirmary. If she were not there... His stomach tied itself in knots as he realized where else she could possibly be.

Dressing quickly and wetting down and straightening his midnight black hair, Gabriel rushed to his sister's room.

* * * * * *

The staff swung down towards Eleenia's shoulder with stalwart force. She raised her own staff just in time to block it. The wooden clack of the staff echoed in the small empty room. Glancing downward at her opponent's knees, she attempted a counterstrike. Her attack was easily deflected and her opponent touched her lightly on her thigh, then again quickly on her upper arm.

"El! How many times do I have to tell you? Keep eye contact at all times! You are practically shouting what you are going to do next!" The girl shook her head and smiled.

Eleenia leaned on her staff, panting for breath. "I'm sorry, Janelle. I'll try to remember." Eleenia inhaled deeply to steady her breath.

"It's okay. Felix was ready to pull his hair out after telling me the same thing time and time again."

El continued the sparring match. Over the last three months, she and Janelle had become very good friends, along with Holle MacLeod, the Caledonian girl. In addition to her lessons three times a week, El was teaching Janelle how to read and write. Two months ago, she had bought Janelle a writing kit and a blank journal to practice her writing, and she was impressed by how quickly she had picked up a basic reading proficiency. Janelle was by no means dim witted, she just completely lacked an education.

It was cute to watch in a way, El thought as she deflected one of Janelle's thrusts. Janelle was so swelled with pride when she didn't need the Pigeon Post delivery boy to read her a message from her brother Felix.

Sensing Eleenia was starting to become lost in thought, Janelle bypassed El's defenses and gave her a light swat on the arm.

"Come on, El, focus!" Janelle lightly tapped Eleenia's staff. "Come at me again. To truly learn to heal injury, you must first learn how to cause it," Janelle said with a mischievous grin.

Eleenia looked at her dubiously. "Oh, thank you for that bit of wisdom."

Janelle laughed and swung her staff in an overly-exaggerated arc, giving Eleenia time to ready herself and deflect the blow. The two exchanged strikes, parries, and counterstrikes for several minutes. But once again, as it always seemed, Eleenia began to tire. Janelle took a step forward, forcing Eleenia back. Stepping on the hem of her dress, Eleenia stumbled, dropped her staff, and began to fall backwards. Janelle skillfully stopped herself in mid-swing. She quickly grabbed on to Eleenia's arm and steadied her.

Eleenia grabbed Janelle's arm, regaining her balance. "Thank you," she panted.

"It must have been a man who invented dresses," Janelle said, shaking her head. "Those things are useless, designed by someone who hated women and wanted us to be uncomfortable."

Eleenia was still in the midst of catching her breath. "I see... you don't let... it bother you..." she said, motioning at Janelle's doe skin britches. "Some men would... find that... indecent."

Janelle shook her head in disgust. "Only pig-headed fools like your brother and the rest of those over-fed sycophants in that damned University." She threw her staff to the ground with a clatter. "What do they know? They sit on their high and mighty roosts looking down their noses at any that actually have to work for a living, or step even slightly outside of their view of what the world should be!" She spat in disgust on the wooden floor.

"And who's side with they fight on? Would they ask the Caledonian or Gylinian Holy Defenders to attack their own people?" Eleenia lowered her gaze and shook her head, sighing in frustration. "You know what? Forget it. I won't have this same argument with you again."

"Because you know I am right!"

Eleenia sighed. "The worst thing about ignorance is its insistence," she said under her breath.

Janelle gasped at the last comment. "Ignorance? Let me tell you something! If these damn 'holy' defenders would get off of their collective duffs and do something, this war could be over within a matter of months. How many people have died because of their inaction? How many thousands? How many widows and orphans has this war made?" Janelle flopped down and crossed her legs, leaning against the wall. She put her head in her hands. "How long before I see my father or Felix?"

Eleenia suddenly regretted what she had said. Setting her staff aside, she sat down next to Janelle and put her arm around her.

"I'm sorry," she said. The muscles along Janelle's back were tensed, but she was not crying.

"El, you're nobility. You can't understand what it is like. You just can't! You grew up in a castle with servants. You have gold, and you know where your next meal is coming from. I'm sure not everyone in the church is self-serving, but I've heard terrible stories of what goes on."

El hugged her tightly. "Oh, come on. The judicial board was fair to you that time you and Holle were brought before them. You two didn't seem to have any problem receiving the restitution."

"Had I known that I was going to be hounded day and night by that weasel-like bean-counting scribe about 'not tithing and giving the church its due', I would have thrown it back in their faces. Besides, if it weren't for you, I would have probably been flogged or hanging from the gallows... or worse."

"If it weren't for me, you wouldn't have gotten yourself into that mess in the first place."

Janelle chuckled. "And after all that happened, your brother still has a problem with you learning how to defend yourself."

Eleenia arched an eyebrow and glanced at Janelle. "Oh, now he's 'your brother' and not 'your pig-headed brother?' Starting to have feelings for him?" She giggled as she nudged Janelle in the ribs.

"Please, don't make me laugh. I have enough of a stomach ache," Janelle said in a deadpan voice. "If it makes you feel better, then your pig-headed brother still has a problem with you learning how to fight?"

Eleenia shrugged, still chuckling. "He is learning to live with it and starting to realize that he won't always be there to protect me. Especially if I decide return to home in a few years. Or four if I choose to pursue becoming a master healer."

"He should already realize it. Even with you still being here, he hasn't always been able to protect you."

"That's why God sent me you," Eleenia said smiling.

Janelle rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. You know, the next time he protests, just remind him about what happened at The Scholar's Inn King's Table tournament."

"I always do. And speaking of that little incident, let's have a look at your arm."

Janelle sighed and rolled up her tunic sleeve. El ran her finger lightly across the scar that ran from her wrist to her inner elbow.

"Have you been putting the vorkus-root ointment on it?"

"Yes," Janelle said tiredly.

"Hm. Looks like this scar just isn't going to fade."

Janelle shrugged as she pulled down her sleeve. "So I have a scar. I don't care. You should see how many my father has."

"Well, you're not exactly a mercenary captain."

"Not yet," Janelle said, smiling. "Not yet." She rose to her feet and retrieved her staff. "Well, if we keep sitting around chatting, you'll not get your three silvers' worth today. Defend yourself! And remember your eye contact!"

El used her staff to push herself up. Janelle immediately set upon her, and the sparing lesson resumed.

* * * * * *

The bells of the University struck for the sixth time as the trapdoor opened. Brother Philip, the portly deacon, wearing brown robes and sandals, covered wicker basket in tow, climbed through the opening onto the circular platform. Standing straight up, he took a deep breath of the clean, windy air that blew above the filth-ridden streets of the city below. The University's watchtower platform was circular, four legs across at any point, with a stone wall one leg high built around the edge, presumably to protect the occupants from the fifty legs drop to the courtyard below. Empty cages lined the west side of the wall and a wooden canopy protected the occupants from the sun and any rain that may fall.

Three pigeons were already sitting, cooing on the ledge. Brother Philip put down his wicker basket and collected the first pigeon. The bird made no effort to escape from the stout deacon's hands. Gingerly, he removed the bone tube that had been tied to the bird's leg and placed it in his robe pocket. He then put the bird in one of the empty cages and set it aside.

The second bird had no message on it. "Hm, a little escapee, eh?" he said. The bird tried to fly away before he could catch it, but the small deacon caught it by the wing and placed it in its own cage.

The third bird was much more agreeable. Brother Philip removed the bone tube from its leg and the bird practically jumped into the cage itself.

Settling his ample behind down on the wooden floor, Brother Philip opened his wicker basket, removing a bottle of wine and a large loaf of steaming bread. Breaking off a small piece of the loaf, he placed a small portion in each of the birds' cages, all of which pecked at it happily.

For the last ten years, Brother Philip's life had been one of relative ease. Every day, except the Sabbath, he would climb the University watchtower and gather the birds that landed upon the stone wall. From noon until the evening meal, he would sit under the canopy with his books, scrolls, and picnic basket. Usually during the day, one or two birds would land, but his days were mostly uneventful, which is how he liked it. After his shift, he would hand the birds that arrived down to the lad that raised and took care of them, one floor below. He would then make his way to Bishop Sentius' quarters and hand deliver the messages, after thoroughly reading them himself.

A cold shudder ran across his skin, causing the hairs on his arm to stand on end. Brother Philip opened the bottle of wine and took a large drink, then wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his robe. The cool liquid hit his stomach and a wave of warmth slowly began to flow through his veins.

Another pigeon, hauling a small wooden tube, landed on the ledge as he took a bite of the warm bread. He sighed, and pushed himself up to retrieve the bird. He removed the wooden tube and put the bird in an empty cage.

"No bread for you. Interrupting my meal..." The Brother continued grumbling as he stuffed another section of bread into his mouth. He quickly settled back down to his shady spot next to his basket.

Reaching into his pocket, he removed one of the bone tubes. He flicked the wax sealing off and retrieved the parchment inside. The first line of the letter read My Darling Lionel. A love letter, Brother Philip thought, as he scanned the light-handed script. A female had obviously written the letter.

"Lionel," he said to one of the caged pigeons. "Isn't he one of the Holy Defender initiates? Hmm... It seems he was a bit misleading about his claims of celibacy." Brother Philip continued to read the note carefully, making sure he didn't miss any of the details.

'Knowledge is power,' Bishop Sentius would say. Brother Philip had never forgotten those words.

He laughed as he rolled the paper up and placed it back in the tube. It would be quite amusing to see how Initiate Lionel would get himself out of this one. Watching him trying to resolve how one could be a Holy Defender when he was the father of twins would prove most interesting. Brother Philip couldn't picture Initiate Lionel in his mind's eye. No matter, he thought. Lionel was most likely headed to the auxiliary, a unit to where disgraced defenders were remanded.

He replaced the bone tube into his pocket and retrieved the other. Upon examination of the tube, Brother Philip realized that there was no wax seal on the message, as if it were sent in great haste.

He pulled the letter from the tube and unraveled it. Holding it in his left hand, Brother Philip grabbed the neck of his wine bottle and drank three more large gulps.

Arch Bishop Leonis or recipient,

Lystra in chaos. Lord Ki Kalendeen, Lord Branvold, families, servants, and wedding guests killed. Work of living dead. Forces of Aragil invading. Crossed Elgannan border. Alert the King. Send help and pray for us.

\- Herodimus Drake

Head of Household

House of Ki Kalendeen

Lystra

Blood stained the letter in several places. Brother Philip set down his wine inattentively. The bottle tipped and sent its contents spilling across the small platform. The stout deacon stared at the letter in disbelief. Suddenly he sprang to his feet, knocked the trap door aside, and hurried down the ladder.

"Bishop Sentius!" he yelled, screaming at the top of his lungs as he ran down the stairs. "Bishop Sentius!!!"

* * * * * *

A hard knock on the door awakened David from a nightmare his mind wouldn't allow him to remember. The shouts and clambering heard on deck told him that they had arrived in New Portsmouth.

"Finally," David said to himself as he gathered his belongings into his brother's pack. He opened the door to let a little bit of light in, but winced as the morning poured into the tiny cabin.

David felt around the pallet one last time to make sure he hadn't left anything behind, and gave a sigh of relief when he found his father's dagger. It had fallen out of his boot during the night. David unsheathed it and held the reflective blade up to the light. The swooping eagle could be seen, carved into the blade and hilt, over top of a cross. The detail was magnificent, and David could make out each of the eagle's extended talons. He quickly sheathed the dagger and replaced it in his right boot.

A hard bump shook the ship as it came to a halt against the New Portsmouth docks. David steadied himself, gathered his belongings, and quickly scrambled up the stairs. His stomach felt like it kicked him in the side, reminding him that he had not eaten properly in several days. His last full meal, served to him by Drake and Jolina, seemed like weeks ago. David shook his head as the memories started to flood back.

"Are ye alright there, fellah?" asked one of the crewmen, standing at the top of the stairs. "Ye need a hand within yer pack there?"

"I'm fine!" David snapped, pulling his pack away from the man's outstretched hand.

"If'n ye say so, boy." The crewman looked past David, ready to help the next passenger with their bags.

"Actually, sir," David said trying to force some humility, "If you could tell me where I might buy passage to Avonshire or Port Cirill..."

The crewman looked back at David and began to laugh.

David clenched his fists as he could feel the pressure behind his eyes and in his ears begin to grow. "I fail to see what is so funny!"

The man continued to laugh. "Oh, I'm sorry, lad!" He said, wiping a tear from his eye. "There won't be no passage out a' New Portsmouth 'til well after the comin' battle be done. Yer best bet be to get abor'tn a Privateer's ship, an' wit' that there guild a'raisin their dues, that'll cost ye a silver spoon er two!"

"A silver spoon?" David said, a confused expression on his face.

"He means it will cost more money than you've got, scamp! Now move it!" The older man behind him followed up the comment with a hard poke in David's back.

David stepped out onto the deck, squinting to allow his eyes to adjust to the full level of the morning sunlight. He was quickly shuffled along the single-file line that led from the below deck stairs to the gangplank.

New Portsmouth was a very different looking place than Lysta. The city had been built on commerce, rather than industry. The buildings were built higher and closer together, often leaving no space between them. The noise from the dockside market carried across the riverboat. From what he could see, most of the vendors sold metal products such as weapons, pots and pans, and tools. David figured that most of the goods unloaded from the riverboats were crafted in Lystra or Kheog. People milled about from booth to table to kiosk, bartering and examining the goods.

"I've never seen the dockside market so empty," said one of the ship's more portly crewmembers at the bottom of the gangplank.

David stepped onto solid ground. He inhaled deeply, but only smelled smoke before the coughing fit started.

"Oy, y'alright there? Don't ye be spreadin' plague on this ship!" the crewman said to David.

David spat some phlegm onto the wooden docks and nodded. "So the market is usually more crowded than this?" In truth, it seemed plenty crowded to him.

The crewman nodded, scratching his balding head. "Aye. Usually when we come in from Lystra with our hold filled, the market is already packed. It can be hard to fight your way from table to table. But, I'm sure word reached here of what happened, and of the invasion."

David nodded.

"You know," the crewman said, pulling David aside a bit, "I once met Lord Ki Kalendeen. I was brought before him on charges of swindling a Lystra-based merchant on some Decian silk. I was innocent, of course, but I figured that since the merchant paid taxes to Ki Kalendeen, I would be found guilty. But God bless Lord Alexander. He realized the bastard's story didn't hold water and made him reimburse me for the entire shipment."

David's stomach shook and burned as he listened to the story. He was thankful that he was able to hold back the tears at thinking about his Father.

"Fine man, that one. And a great warrior, he was. Did you know he was the only General to knock down the walls of the city of Denning? Them walls stood for 500 years before that, they did."

"Yes, sir, I have heard that story," David replied. Part of him wanted to run away screaming, purging any thought of his former life from him. Another part wanted to stay and cling to every word the man said about his family.

The man who had poked David on the staircase made his way off of the gangplank. "You talking about Ki Kalendeen? Oh, don't get me started on him. He had a hell of a lot of nerve calling himself a noble. Always pandering to the underclass, and keeping his boot heel on the throats of the mining and smithing guilds. No. Military men aren't meant to run cities, at least not the size of Lystra. Gillingham or New Portsmouth, maybe. But I think in the long run, Lystra will be better off with him out of the way. In fact..."

The man continued to drone on, making up David's mind for him, turning and walking away before he became violent. The plump sailor muttered "Insolent Jackass" under his breath and went back to work, also ignoring the purple-clad merchant's unending speech.

David had never been to New Portsmouth before, and making his way to the bayside docks from the riverside docks took a lot more effort than he originally thought. Lystra was laid out in a grid, with the only exception being the north and south bank River Roads. New Portsmouth was a maze of winding, twisting, and intersecting roads that followed no seeming order whatsoever. The people of this town were different, too. In Lystra, everyone seemed to have a determined purpose as they moved along the city. Everyone in this city seemed less focused. They were always looking around for bargains, or watching over their shoulder. An inordinate number of people looked away and ignored David when he asked for directions to the ocean. Even a few guards took a handful of coppers to get correct directions out of.

Walking through the tight crowds made David extremely uncomfortable. Three times, he caught someone with their hands near his sack. One young boy even managed to get the flap untied and opened before David realized what was going on and knocked him to the ground.

He only stopped moving once, to buy some honey rolls and fresh bacon from a kiosk. David forced himself to eat the entire meal, even though his stomach was no longer accustomed to large amounts of solid food. But, at least he had something to eat, he thought, and it didn't taste of smoke. However, ten minutes later, the heavy meal was sitting in his gut like a pile of rocks.

Once high noon had passed, it was easier to navigate, as he only had to walk away from the sun. As he walked, the buildings began to look older, leaning to one side, wood warped with age. The continuous streetside market seemed to dwindle, as the class of the citizenry began to sink. Merchants and flamboyantly-dressed hucksters were replaced by seamen and dockworkers, who wore drab-colored shirts, sturdy pants, and thigh boots. Every other building was a tavern or hotel. Most were empty, as it was prime working hours. Men hauled barrels and pushed carts to either the warehouses or the markets. A few scantily-clad women in one building called out to passing dockworkers. Even from where he was, David could see that their corsets were so tight, he wondered how they could breathe, let alone call out in such loud, screeching voices.

Hefting his pack up with a jingle, David continued on. As he rounded a corner, the sight he beheld and the feeling that washed over him left him speechless. The cool and moist sea breeze blew gently across his body, raising the hair on his arms and neck. The sparkling blue ocean stretched out as far as his eye could see. He had read books about it, but they did not do the magnificence of the sea justice. The ships that stood at the docks were huge, with masts at least twenty legs tall. Weaves of rope so intricate that David could barely follow them ran from the sides of the boats to the masts. The sails were now down on most of the docked boats, except for one, which was sailing into the harbor. The flag it flew was gold with something black in the middle. At this distance, David couldn't make it out. Dockworkers ran out to the dock to catch the mooring ropes the crew of the two-masted ship tossed out.

"Lookie there, mates." A large man in a gray wool sweater, smoking a pipe was speaking to three others. "He lives."

All four men wore dingy brown wool caps. Three of them wore an odd looking beard with no mustache, which David had never seen before. The fourth man's mustache was so outlandishly long, in curled up at the ends a good inch beyond the man's face on either side.

"I thought Gaceric put a bounty out on him," said another of the men.

"Aye, he did," replied the mustache man. "And what with him shirking The Guild as well, I'm surprised he has the balls to even put in to shore south of Gylinia. And in a Guild-run port as well!"

The man with the pipe chuckled. "Karinga has pissed off Gaceric so many times, we should watch well and remember this occasion. This could be the last time we see the Waverunner in one piece." All four men broke into fits of laughing, snorting, and chortling. "Admiral Gaceric will pay a hefty price for Karinga's head. Well, when he makes his way to the Salt Spray Inn tonight, we may just have to pay him a bit of a visit." With that, they resumed their laughing.

One of the men noticed David watching them. He reached over and grabbed David by the wrist. He gave a wide, brown-toothed grin and pulled him closer. The man's breath reeked as if Iberian nightshade-hoarding squirrels had died farting in his mouth. "Hey, boy! Wandering eyes get gouged out, and wagging tongues get cut off!" David tried to pull away hard with all his might, and the man let go, sending David toppling to the street with a thud and a jingle. Three of the four men began to laugh, but the one who had been smoking the pipe hauled off and smacked brown-teeth in the shoulder.

"What's the matter with you men?" The others half stopped their laughter, not sure if the pipe-smoking man was serious. He reached down and offered David his hand.

David hesitated.

"Come on, boy. I won't bite you. Old Pem here is just a bit antsy. That Karinga fellow is a murderous Pirate with a nice-sized bounty on his head. We were just fantasizing a bit about collecting it."

David took the man's hand and was pulled to his feet. The other men were looking thoroughly confused. "I'm Kirby. These lads are Pembroke, Thrasher, and Kyle." The other three gave an unsure nod.

"Hey, Kirb, what's the game here?" Asked Thrasher.

"Well, from what I can see here, the lad is probably looking for passage out of New Portsmouth. Am I right?"

"Yes, sir. To Port Cirill." David said.

"There ain't no passage out of New Portsmouth, lad. Not for purchase, anyway. But, our Captain is putting out to sea tomorrow, and I'm sure he could use a good rat catcher on the boat."

David tried not to frown. The rat catchers that were employed in the castle were always the lowest of the low. Thieving orphans and street urchins put to work rather than being put in prison. But, if it would get him out of harm's way, he would take it.

"But Kirb, I thought Midge was the lad Cap..." The mustache man was interrupted by Kirby stepping back on his foot. "Ow!" he cried.

"Shut up, Kyle!" He turned his attention back to David. "So, what do you say, boy? Catch some rats for your passage?"

"Um... I guess so, sir."

The man smiled as he hit his pipe against his hand, removing the spent ash. "Good. We'll take you to see Captain Blackjack right now, in fact."

A wave of understanding swept through the other men, and they began nodding their heads in agreement. "Oh, yeah, Captain Blackjack will just love you, lad!"

"Come on." Kirby put his hand on David's shoulder and tried to lead him to the west.

"But sir, isn't that your ship?" David asked, pointing at the large three-masted ship docked practically in front of them.

"Uh, yes, it is, lad. But the Captain wouldn't be on board right now. Old Blackjack likes to head inland a bit for a good meal and such."

David shrugged and allowed himself to be led to the west. They walked about a block before the men stopped.

"Here, lad. Down this alley. It will be quicker."

David trotted down the alley ahead of the four men. Daylight quickly turned into shadows, and the smell of old garbage and piss wafted through the part of the city untouched by the cleansing sea breeze.

Pain suddenly exploded in the back of David's head at the base of his skull. The world began to spin as the four men set upon him. He tried in vain to hold on to the pack, but the brown-toothed man wrenched it from his clinging hand. A boot slammed into his gut, knocking the wind out of him. He struggled to his hands and knees only to be struck again in the ribs. Another boot kicked him in the face and blood poured from his nose. The mocking laughter of the four men could be heard through his pain as two of them went through his pack, screaming with delight. The other two continued to beat him mercilessly.

David cried out at the top of his lungs.

"Oh, bloody hell, he'll bring the watch. Just blackjack him again! I knew that pack was full of gold when I heard him hit the ground!" said Kirby.

There was another dull thud on the back of David's head. Pressure rushed through his ears, and everything began to fade.

"What about we search him, Kirb?" David heard in the distance through his pain.

A pair of hands quickly frisked his body, stopping at his knees. He willed his body to move, but it wouldn't.

"It's the watch! Let's go!"

"And one more for luck!" David heard. A kick walloped into the side of his head, and everything went black.

* * * * * *

Gabriel sat on a hard wooden stool next to Jonathan's infirmary bed as one of the student healers changed the bandages on his side. The wounded, brown-haired initiate winced as the healer applied a little too much pressure.

"Keep still, sir. Almost done." The healer replaced the bed robe and pulled the wool blanket back over Jonathan's prone form. "There. All done."

Gabriel and Jonathan watched the thin young man leave the room before they began speaking.

"So this is how you get out of weapons training, you lazy sloth," Gabriel said with a wide grin.

"I think the surgeons should teach them to have a more gentle touch," said Jonathan, adjusting his body with a wince of pain, ignoring Gabriel's comment. "Between El poking me and that fellow and his way of hammering on these bandages... What's next, a bloodletting?"

Gabriel chuckled and patted his friend on the shoulder. "Oh, come on. You're a Rothschild. You're strong. You'll be fine. I'm surprised to hear you complain about things here. When Tobias volunteered us to clean the pit under the lavatory, you were the only one of us who didn't gripe. You hardly said a word."

"I was locking my jaw down to keep from throwing up breakfast! Believe me, I was calling the fires upon his hide to myself. Speaking of, do you know how he did with his Test of Knowledge?"

Gabriel shook his head. "No, I've been trying to find El all day."

"Oh, she was here this morning. She said she went by your room after the morning meal, but you had already left."

"Actually I was still asleep."

Jonathan smiled. "Well, you've earned it."

"Do you know where she went after she left you?" asked Gabriel.

"She was going to see Argos's daughter and spend the afternoon with her."

Gabriel's mood turned and he clenched his fists.

Jonathan gave a pained laugh. "Calm yourself, my friend. I fail to see why that makes you so angry!"

Gabriel glanced down with a frown at his wounded friend. "Please, Jonathan. El is nobility. Argos is a commoner and a trouble maker. Who is she to teach my sister how to fight? Her and that MacLeod friend of hers. Women shouldn't bother themselves with that. No, one day El is going to marry a Lord or a prince, or even a King. The last thing she needs is to have herself mixed up with a hoyden like Janelle Argos!"

Jonathan sighed. "If you say so. But I don't think you'll be able to stop her, so you might as well... tolerate it."

Gabriel grumbled. Jonathan was right, as much as he didn't want to admit it to himself. Eleenia had always been as stubborn as an untrained scent hound. At least she would be going back to Lystra soon, he thought. There, she would have a better chance of being arranged with a prince, or a Lord's son. And Alexander had always said they all would be welcome to stay in the castle for as long as they liked after father died.

That thought brought a cold feeling into the pit of Gabriel's stomach. The same cold feeling he had this morning when he was half dreaming and half awake.

"So what do you think they have Demetrius doing right now?" asked Jonathan, bringing Gabriel back to the present.

Gabriel shrugged. "Probably shoveling pig filth with the way he spoke to Father Alexis yesterday," he chuckled. "I can hear him now belly aching about the tasks he has to perform. I've wanted to smack him more than once myself for that."

"Aye. I wonder how many times we could have avoided being chest deep in maggot-infested, sun-ripened garbage if he had just kept his mouth shut. I've silently cursed the entire Pinkerton family for what Demetrius has gotten us into."

"I feel sorry for the other initiates in the group he gets assigned to, but at least you will not be stationed with him anymore."

Jonathan nodded. "Poor soul. I do hope he submits and begins to follow the rules. He is a good person, deep down. And I know that one day, he will make a fine Holy Defender."

Gabriel gave a doubtful look. "Maybe. I think he'll end up at Coldar's Springs when he holds the Angelic Blade."

"Well, it's not for us to judge. Do you know when you will be having your own initiates?"

"No. I will report to Brother Morland the day after the Sabbath. Thanks to the war, the number of initiates entering the church is dwindling sharply. It may be some time, so I imagine I'll be spending a good deal of time with the books and scrolls."

Jonathan nodded. "Brother Morland came to visit me this morning. He said I would be finishing my weapons training with Brother Na'Hastas as my mentor."

"Na'Hastas. He's the one with the one blue and one brown eye, right?"

"Yes. He is supposedly one of the best combat trainers."

Gabriel smiled. "Good. Then he will whip you into shape and you will be a mentor within a month."

Jonathan rolled his eyes. "Oh, bugger all. The bearer of pain returns." The young healer returned to the room and began to approach the two initiates. Gabriel met his eyes with an intense glare, and the healer halted his approach, allowing them to finish their conversation.

"I'm glad you are feeling better, Jonathan. I'll see you when you are back on your feet again," Gabriel said.

"Remember me in your prayers, brother. And remember what I said about El."

Gabriel stood and walked from the room without another word. The thought of El with Janelle never failed to turn his stomach. It was time to put an end to it.

* * * * * *

Gabriel made his way through the crowded streets of Avonshire. The market was flooded with mostly women this time of day, both wives and daughters, buying what was needed to prepare the evening meal for their hardworking husbands and brothers. Given his large, muscular build and the white tunic and forest green cloak of his Holy Defender's initiate's uniform, people tended to step out of his way with a quick bow. This never ceased to cause slight embarrassment to Gabriel. Even the servants of the castle in Lystra weren't this obsequious. Sure they showed respect, but there was always a familiarity and fondness to their attitude. But with the people of Avonshire, it seemed to be respect almost born out of fear.

A group of laughing children ran through the crowd, darting between carts, stands, and people. As they ran past an old woman carrying a large basket on her shoulder, she lost her balance and toppled over. The breads and vegetables, which she had spent the better part of the day collecting, spilled forth from the basket onto the cobblestone street. The laughing children disappeared into the crowd, oblivious to the chaos they were causing.

"You filthy little scamps!" she screamed from the ground, shaking her fist.

In an instant, Gabriel was on one knee next to the old woman. "Ma'am, are you hurt?" He reached down to offer his help to get her back on her feet, which she readily accepted.

"Thank you, young man," the old woman said, brushing herself off. "I'm not as young as I used to be, and I don't see so well anymore. Ever since my husband died..."

Quickly, Gabriel began to pick up her fallen things and stuff them back into the basket as the woman continued to speak. All around, people paid no attention, other than giving the fallen goods a contemplative glance. But, one look at Gabriel, and they quickly went about their business.

Over the drone of the old woman and the noise of the crowd, bells at the cathedral began to ring. Not the ordinary bells, which signified time of day, meals, and such, but what were referred to as the "Grey bells". The pitch was higher and sharper, and their piercing noise reached a greater distance. The Grey Bells were only used to call an emergency meeting of the Arch Bishop, his advisors, the Holy Defenders' council of twelve, and Templar Majoris Carmen himself, the leader of the Holy Defenders.

The entire market square suddenly got quiet as the high-pitched bells continued to chime. Gabriel quickly finished shoving the woman's goods into her basket, handed it to her, and left without a word.

The crowd erupted in speculative murmurs as the bells stopped. Gabriel quickened his pace through the crowd, anxious to get this confrontation over with and get back to the University to see what was wrong.

* * * * * *

Eleenia set down her cup of honey tea as the conversation stopped to allow the bells to play out their ringing. Resting her chin on her hand, she took on a pensive look, staring out the high-set window up into the cloudy sky.

Janelle finished her tea with a final swig and set the cup back on the table. "What does that mean? Eleenia? Eleenia!"

El snapped out of her trance and turned her attention back to her friend. "Hm? Oh, I'm sorry. I believe that those bells are used to call an emergency council meeting among the leaders of the church and the Holy Defenders."

Janelle rolled her eyes. "I wonder what for? One of the Moldy Rear-enders come up short on his weekly extortion run?"

"I've heard that it is only used in extreme emergencies," El said, letting the last comment pass by.

Janelle poured them both some more tea. They sat quietly, staring into the cups, both lost in thought. A sharp knock on the door brought them both back to the present. Janelle strolled to the door as the knocks became louder.

"I'm coming!" she yelled. Unbolting the door, she opened it to the sight of Gabriel standing on her small front porch, arms folded in front of him. Their eyes locked in mutual distaste and anger.

Janelle was the first to break the stare as she looked down to size up her broad-shouldered opponent. "Eleenia, your pretentious brother is here!" she shouted. Without saying another word, she turned and walked back into the house, leaving Gabriel standing at the open door.

Caught a little off guard, Gabriel hesitated, and then stepped into the small Argos house. Janelle was nowhere to be seen, but Eleenia was entering the front room from the back.

"Gabriel! What are you doing here? Is something wrong?" she asked, perplexed at seeing her brother.

"El, I told you I don't want you here. How can I look after you if you keep..." He stopped in mid-sentence as Janelle followed El from the back room, longsword on her belt with her hand on the hilt. Her eyes bore holes right through him as all the anger she had in life was focused on the young initiate.

"You, watch after her? HA!" Janelle spat. "She doesn't need you to take care of her. I've taught her to fight and she can more than take care of herself now."

Gabriel took a deep breath to calm himself. "El, come on. We're leaving."

Janelle stepped in front of Eleenia, never taking her eyes off of Gabriel. "Tell that pig-headed toady that you will leave when it suits you."

Eleenia stood shocked, glancing between her brother and her best friend.

Gabriel clenched his fist. "El, now."

"Tell him to crawl back to his ivory tower like the hypocritical coward that he is."

Gabriel shifted his gaze towards Janelle. "El, you should try harder to keep your little pet strumpet on a tighter leash."

Janelle drew her sword. With a scream of rage, she charged. Gabriel held his ground, prepared to call the girl's bluff. It was almost too late before he realized that she was not bluffing. At the last second, he stepped forward, grabbing Janelle's sword arm, completely catching her off guard. Quickly, Janelle landed a strong kick into Gabriel's groin with her pointed boot.

Biting his lip to hold off the pain, in one fluid motion Gabriel twisted Janelle's arm and shoved her with his free hand. The smaller girl stumbled back, dropping her sword and tumbled over a decorative table, landing on her hands and knees. Before Gabriel could react, she darted to her sword and grabbed the weapon in hand.

Eleenia jumped between them, causing both of them to drop their guard a bit. "Stop it! Both of you! Stop it!"

Gabriel relaxed completely, but Janelle hung on to her sword.

"What are you going to do? Kill each other?" she screamed, well beyond the point of anger. She turned to Gabriel, tears beginning to form in her eyes. "I am not a little girl! I wrote to father and he was happy Janelle was teaching me how to fight! So was Mother and David! Why do you feel differently?"

Gabriel shifted his weight as the sharp sting in his groin turned into a dull, lingering ache. He shook his head. "They don't know..."

"What? They don't know what? What is best for me?" Eleenia interrupted. "Janelle is right! You won't always be around to watch over me. You haven't been there the times that I have needed you, and Janelle has!" Tears were now streaming down her face. "You have no right to tell me what to do with my life! Quit trying to bully everyone around!"

A strong twinge of guilt hit Gabriel, seeing his sister brought to tears for the first time in years. Looking down at the ground, unable to make eye contact, he gave a resigned sigh and nodded. "I'll find out what is going on. When you are finished here, come to my room and I'll tell you what I learn."

Gabriel turned and started walking towards the door. Once outside, he closed it gently. Eleenia turned and faced Janelle. "And you! He is a man of God AND my brother! You show him some respect! How dare you pull out a sword on him!"

Janelle sighed and smiled a bit. "El, it was just a practice sword." She demonstrated by running the dulled, rounded edge across her own palm. "It wouldn't have hurt him...much," she snickered.

"Janelle, Gabriel isn't one of those tavern rogues you are used to fighting. He has been trained to kill for the last three years. He could have seriously hurt you and I would have never forgiven him. Besides, he's a good man and has a kind heart."

Janelle rolled her eyes.

Eleenia put her hand on her friend's shoulder. "I know how you feel about the church, but Gabriel is just a Holy Defender initiate. He doesn't make the choices about what wars to fight and who to send into battle, nor does he harass people for tithes and offerings."

Janelle smiled. "Well, at least it was good to see you stand up to him."

"Oh, I've stood up to him in the past. He is just being overprotective. Now, did he hurt you at all?"

Janelle rotated her bent arm, rubbing her shoulder. "I don't think so. He's stronger than he looks. He almost dislocated my arm."

"You deserved it," Eleenia replied.

"So are you going back to the University now?"

Eleenia shrugged and smiled. "When I feel like it."

* * * * * *

David lost track of time as he lay in the cold dirt alley, hands clutching his bruised ribs. His face hurt, his ribs stung, and the back of his head felt like he had a lump the size of a melon. Gingerly reaching back, he touched the spot, a move he quickly regretted.

Slowly, he ran his tongue across his teeth, making sure that none had been kicked out during the attack. The salty and metallic taste of blood made him shiver, but at least all of his teeth were still in place. The memory of the attack washed over him, like hot, putrid vomit across his soul. David felt around on the ground next to him, hoping that beyond all odds his pack would still be there. A horrible fluttery feeling rose from his gut as he drew his arm back empty. He tried to raise his head, but the pain in his neck and skull made it a bit difficult. Delicately, he opened his eyes.

The alley was dark, for which he was thankful. The small amount of light that did touch the alley still bothered him. His vision was blurry and noises sounded like he was listening to them through water.

David felt a skittering feeling through his hair that moved across his head and along his cheek. He reached up and brushed the roach from his face. The image of him being covered from head to toe by roaches encouraged David to try and stand up. He braced his arms beneath him and pushed himself up to his hands and knees. The feeling of pain, which he was getting quite familiar with, shot through his body. A piece of rotting lettuce and a few small rocks were stuck to the side of David's face. Brushing them off, David took a deep breath. Once again, he was overtaken by a coughing fit. The taste of smoke once again rose to his tongue, and his bruised ribs ached in protest. After waiting a few seconds to catch his breath, David weakly clambered to his feet. His head reeled with dizziness as the world spun around him. He took as deep breaths as his ribs would let him as he concentrated on staying standing.

Slowly, the feeling of disorientation faded, replaced by the fluttery feeling rising from his stomach. He could almost imagine the taste of bile on his tongue. Here he was, a fourteen year old boy in a strange city, where the only people he even remotely knew were the ones who had beaten him and taken all that he had left in the world. He quickly felt around his clothes, seeing what he had left. A small jingle in his front shirt pocket revealed seven coppers. That would hardly be enough for a decent meal. The pants he was wearing didn't have any pockets, and the small coin pouch he had tied to his belt was also gone, taken by Gaceric's men. David started to feel choked up. He had no way now to pay his way to Avonshire, and he realized that competition would be extremely fierce among those who wished to work for their passage. The army of Aragil was only days from him, and they would probably reach Kheog by nightfall tomorrow. When they reached New Portsmouth, someone would definitely recognize him as a Ki Kalendeen and turn him in for a reward of some kind. Probably to that Necromancer and that damned General. Tears pushed their way through, but he bit down and refused to cry. Now wasn't the time to become hysterical. He had to think, and think quickly!

His hand found his way down to his boot. He still had his father's knife! Although the thought of parting with his father's dagger wasn't a pleasant one, it was far better than spending the rest of his life as a beggar, or as a prisoner of an evil wizard.

David quickly tied the small silver scabbard to his belt and sheathed the dagger. He dusted himself off one last time and walked from the alley back to the main street. The sun was starting to go down, and David figured it was about 3 hours from sunset, two hours from when the evening meal used to be served. The city streets were definitely less crowded now, and most of the vendors had already packed up. David walked west, away from the docks, in search of a vendor who might buy his dagger.

He rounded one of the oddly placed corners and came to a bald man with a red bandana. The man was packing away his goods back into the compartments hidden in his wares cart.

"Excuse me, sir," David said to the man. "Are you still open for business?"

"Packin' up and a movin' on, boy. But, state your business quickly, and if it ain't packed, it's still for sale."

"Oh, I'm not in the position to buy anything, sir."

The man looked up from his work at David. The sight of the battered lad took him a bit by surprise. "Who beat the piss out a' ya', boy? You talk to the town watch about it?"

David untied the scabbard without answering. He handed it to the merchant, who studied it with his best appraisal face.

"Hmm," he said. "Not too shabby. You sure you want to part with it, lad?"

"No, sir," David said. "But I have to."

The stout vendor gave a half smile as he sized up David. "I'll give you a silver for it."

David's eyes opened wide and his jaw dropped with shock. "A silver?!?" he yelled indignantly. "It HAS to be worth more than a bloody SILVER!"

The vendor gave David a smug smirk. "Oh, and I suppose you're an expert in the ways of appraisal, eh?"

"I.... I..." David couldn't take any more. His mind felt like it was going to snap and he broke out openly crying. Tears streamed down his cheeks and his eyes turned red and puffy. "Forget it!" David said between sobs. "I shall take my business elsewhere!"

David went to grab for the dagger, but the merchant shoved him aside. "Oh no, lad. We have a deal. One silver." The merchant began to chuckle as David tried to subdue a fit of rage.

"No! I never agreed to it!"

"You handed it to me, didn't you?" said the merchant smugly.

David had had enough. Cupping his hands around his mouth, he screamed at the top of his lungs. "WATCH!!! WATCH!!!"

The merchant pressed his lips together in anger. "What are you doing, boy? Stop it!" He reached for David, trying to silence him.

David nimbly stepped to the side and continued his screaming. "WATCH!!!"

Two town guards dressed in blue and white uniforms, each carrying a halberd, came to David's call. The first one was an older man with several battle scars, while the second was very well muscled, but a good bit younger. The older man was the first to speak. "Well, what have we got going on here, then?" He looked at David's face. "What's your name, lad?"

"David, sir."

"Did he do that to you, boy?" The younger guard glared at the merchant and began to hold his halberd with two hands.

The merchant stiffened, as he realized the potential dilemma David could put him in. "No, sir, it wasn't I who beat the boy. He looked like that when he came here!"

"Silence!" yelled the younger guard. "He wasn't talking to you."

His father's dying words echoed through his mind. Although this man deserved any type of punishment he might get, David did not want it on his conscience. "No, sir. He didn't beat me, he merely STOLE my knife!"

The merchant gave an "I'm innocent" gasp. "I did not steal his knife. He sold it to me for a silver! I gave him the price, then he handed me the dagger!"

David kicked at the merchant in rage. The younger town guardsman tried to step in the way. "That's not what happened, you liar! You were going to appraise the dagger, then you gave me a ridiculously low price! A jewel encrusted silver coated dagger! Why would I give it up for a mere silver? Then you kept the dagger! Now give it back!"

The merchant looked a bit caught off guard. He had expected David to say something that would make his story less believable, at which point he would pounce on it and have David thrown into the dungeon, and keep the fine knife and the silver. The opportunity never presented itself, though, as David stuck to the truth.

The guards looked curiously and accusingly at the merchant.

"Well, before or after he handed me the knife, I don't remember." The merchant winced as he realized he had just tipped his hat and handed the argument to the boy. "Look, lad, I'll not only give you... oh... six gold for the dagger, I'll also replace it with a less fancy but just as sturdy one." He looked at the guards hopefully, as the town watch in New Portsmouth was known for brutality.

"Lad?" said the older guard.

David considered the proposition for a moment. It was far better than he had expected, but he wanted to see the merchant sweat a bit. "Eight gold! And only if I like the new knife."

The merchant, anxious to get rid of the town watch, produced one of his best knuckle daggers. It was completely nondescript, yet extremely sharp, sturdy, and completely unused. David put his fingers through the holes in the hilt and gripped the dagger, nodding.

David nodded. "Alright, then. Give me the gold, you ill-smelling rogue!"

The merchant handed David the eight coins. "There, now be on your way."

David smiled smugly at the merchant and placed the coins in his pocket. The younger watchman pulled a rag out of his belt and spat on it.

"Here, hold still, lad." The guard wiped off David's face, right below his nose and on his chin. Given the amount of dried blood that came off, and the dark pink taint on the cloth, David figured he must have looked a dreadful mess. The guard continued for a few minutes like a well-meaning nurse, and David couldn't help but feel a bit embarrassed.

"There we go, lad. I'd say good as new, but those black eyes and that shiner are going to take some time to heal up there, and that gash across your cheek, too."

"Thank you, sir," said David. He put the knife in its leather scabbard, which he placed upon his belt. Besting the thieving merchant gave him a bit of his confidence back. Maybe he should try for some serious payback, he thought. "Sir," he said to the watchmen as they started to stroll away, "Where can I find the Salt Spray Inn?"

The two watchmen glanced at each other with eyes raised. "A lad your age? You want to go to that rogues' den?"

David gingerly touched his bruised eye. "Let's just say I have some unfinished business to take care of there."

The older man looked doubtful. "Well, don't you go getting into any more fights on my shift laddy. But if it's the Salt Spray you want, just go to the north end of the docks. It will be right across the street from where the Waverunner is moored."

David smiled as much as his pained mouth would let him. It was time to show these ruffians what it meant to betray a Ki Kalendeen.

* * * * * *

"Brother Gabriel!" The brown-robed deacon, one of the personal staff of Arch Bishop Leones, stood at the university main gate, waving over the growing crowd that was slowly moving into the outer courtyard. "Brother Gabriel!" he screamed again, at the top of his lungs, his voice once again drowned out. The gray haired Brother Kenneth waved frantically, and finally caught the young initiate's eye.

Gabriel made his way through the murmuring crowd, catching parts of sentences about an invasion. From the bits he had heard, he figured the Caledonian / Gylinian army had forced its way past the Elgannan lines and was on its way. A siege of the city of Avonshire would be terrible, but everyone had expected that it would someday come to pass. The Church was officially neutral in the war, but being placed on the south bank of the Coldar River, and being within the Avonshire city walls, a siege would starve the University and Cathedral just as it would the rest of the city.

Brother Kenneth forced his way against the flow of the crowd and finally managed to grasp Gabriel's arm. "Brother Gabriel, the Templar Majoris, the Arch Bishop, Bishop Sentius, and his advisors wish to see you and your sister immediately!"

Gabriel stopped dead, causing a disturbance in the crowd as people tried to get around him. "What? Surely you are mistaken! Why would they want to see us?"

"I don't know. I was told to deliver the message, that is all."

"El will be along in about an hour. She had some unfinished business in the city."

The large bells of the Cathedral began to ring. Almost time for the evening meal. He, Jonathan, Demetrius, and Tobias always ate together in the mess hall. It would be strange eating alone, Gabriel thought. Jonathan was still in the infirmary, and he had no idea where Demetrius was. His thoughts turned to Tobias. Today was to have been his final day of testing. He had passed the Test of Combat, and Gabriel knew Tobias would pass the Test of Knowledge. The only test that remained was the Angelic Blade. If an initiate could pick up the blade and not drop it in pain, he would become a Holy Defender. Many rumors circulated through the ranks of the initiates about that test, for it was the one that looked into one's own soul. Tobias would have taken the test just two hours before, or at least, he was scheduled to.

"What about Tobias. Did he take the test of the Angelic Blade yet?"

Brother Kenneth nodded. "Yes he did. Brother Tobias is now a Holy Defender. I suggest you wait until tomorrow to congratulate him, though. The Angelic Blade is not something to be taken lightly, and when I left him in his room an hour ago, he was curled up on his bed sobbing."

The current of the crowd once again carried the two forward. They found themselves in the outer courtyard, where at least fifty initiates and twenty Holy Defenders were lined up in front of the inner wall gate. As per tradition when the Gray Bells were sounded, commoners were not being permitted inside the University at this time. Gabriel and Brother Kenneth walked pass the guarding initiates, and with a salute to the lead Defender, they went inside past the blockade.

"Brother Kenneth," Gabriel said once they had reached the gate and had started down the ten leg tunnel that lead to the inner courtyard. "Is the test of the Angelic Blade as... disturbing as they say?"

The gray-haired deacon shrugged. "I am not a Holy Defender, so I have not been subject to the test. But, I have seen the most promising initiate cry out in agony and drop the blade leaving spiral brand marks on his hands. I've also seen the strongest, most brave and courageous lads crumple to the ground in tears begging forgiveness. I've seen the most haughty initiates I've ever known hold the blade and after they recovered, were filled with The Spirit and were monuments to humility and spirituality. As you know, no one is permitted to speak of the experience to anyone who has not undergone the test themselves, so no one but the Holy Defenders themselves can know what really happens."

Gabriel nodded. He would find out in four years time anyway.

The inner courtyard was quiet by comparison. Here there was no training, no marching, not even much straying from the cobblestone paths that crisscrossed the lush, green area. Trees from different lands lined the paths, some beginning to blossom. Many of them produced fruit, some of which Gabriel had never seen before. Eleenia had told him about them, their origins and the medicinal uses of the fruits, but Gabriel had long forgotten the specifics. Rumor had it that years ago, the kitchen would harvest the fruit trees and prepare lavish meals twice a year for the clergy, Defenders, and initiates. But recently, an edict had been issued that only clergy of Bishop, his advisors, and the Archbishop were allowed to partake of the bounty.

The two walked past the great westward-facing Avonshire Cathedral, setting sun shining against the multi-colored stained glass windows. Between the Cathedral and five story building that housed the clergy's quarters stood the Grand Rectory, which housed the Archbishop, the Bishops, and Cardinals. It was half the size of the clergy building, but housed only 12 people. The ground floor of the Grand Rectory was used as a meeting area when the upper clergy and Defender Council came together. In front of the Grand Rectory, a large, beautiful fountain sprayed a column of water high in the air from between four carved marble angels, kneeling in prayer with their heads bowed, hands towards heaven, and their wings spread wide. The water arced over the angels, landing in a crystal clear pool.

Brother Kenneth turned and led Gabriel into the main entrance of the Grand Rectory. In all his years at the University, this was the first time Gabriel had ever entered the building. The foyer was breathtaking. Portraits in gold-cast frames lined the walls, pictures of Archbishops of old, and of several historical Pontiffs, including the current Holy Father, and a particularly garish rendering of Bishop Sentius. The furniture was also lavish. Benches and small tables of the finest oak, inlaid with gold, stood against the side walls.

"Wait here, Brother Gabriel, and I shall announce you." Brother Kenneth walked to the large double teakwood doors at the other end of the foyer. Turning one golden door handle, he opened the door slightly and slipped inside.

The sick feeling that Gabriel had been feeling the past few days returned. He could hear muffled conversation from the other room. Unable to make out what was being said, he turned his attention back to the portraits.

The door opened. Gabriel turned, expecting to see Brother Kenneth, however the man entering the room was his uncle, Rameus Ki Kalendeen. Gabriel's eyes lit up at seeing his uncle. He quickly saluted, as all initiates did when confronted by a Holy Defender. Relative or not, his uncle was still his superior. When Gabriel had taken the Oath of Fealty to the Church, he had given up all ties to family, and all claims to his heritage. Even so, it was always good to see blood relatives.

Rameus did not return the salute. His expression was heavy, and he looked on the verge of utter despair. "Gabriel," he said as he stepped forward and hugged his nephew, an action that was completely out of character, even in private.

"Brother Rameus," Gabriel said stepping back a bit, "what's the matter?"

"You shall find out soon enough, boy. Whatever happens in there, be strong. Bring honor to our family name with your strength."

"Uncle Rameus? What has happened?"

"Initiate Gabriel, please come forth!" a voice called from the other side of the door.

Gabriel looked to the door, then back to his uncle, who was turning to leave. Taking a deep breath, he opened the double doors and strode into the meeting chamber.

The room was even more extravagant than the foyer. Center, in front of him, was the Archbishop himself, seated upon a large oaken throne with red velvet cushions attached directly onto the wood. The aging, feeble man, barely able to hold his head up, nodded to Gabriel. To the left of the Archbishop sat the Templar Majoris. To his right, Bishop Sentius. Twenty-four other smaller thrones flanked the three, forming an inverted "U". On the left side sat the Council of Twelve, the highest ranking Holy Defenders, save the Templar Majoris. On the right were the Archbishop's council, twelve priests.

All eyes followed Gabriel as he walked into the semicircle, causing a tingling sensation to travel down the length of his spine. He took another deep breath and genuflected to the Archbishop. Never in his life had he felt so on display, so lacking. The greatest men of the times were in this room, the men who decided the destiny of the church and who inspired the souls of the masses. He felt insignificant under their collective gazes.

Bishop Sentius stood and stepped forward from his throne. "Brother Gabriel, it is my sad duty to inform you that there has been an attack on the city of Lystra, more specifically, the castle of Lord Ki Kalendeen."

Gabriel's heart dropped into his stomach, but he held his composure.

The Bishop cleared his throat, and continued in an unemotional, matter-of-fact tone. "All members of your family that resided in your ancestral home, your father, your mother, and your two brothers, were slain in the attack. There were few survivors. Also killed in the attack were the members of Lord Branvold's family, although the youngest is missing and may still be alive. The bodies of your family have been identified and laid to rest."

The news didn't seem real. Gabriel turned and looked at the Council Members to his left. None of them met his gaze as they lowered their eyes to the floor. His mind suddenly focused sharply on Eleenia.

"Your Grace," he said, straining to keep his voice from wavering, "what is to become of my sister, Eleenia?"

The bishop looked a bit confused.

"Your Grace?" said the high priest sitting next to him. The bishop leaned over and the priest whispered in his ear.

Bishop Sentius nodded. "Due to the loss of your family's land, you and your sister are no longer considered Nobility. You are indentured to The Church and shall continue along your path to become a Holy Defender. We haven't decided about your sister, however. Depending on whether or not your father paid her tuition in full up front, she will either continue along on her path, or, God forbid, be put out of the University."

Gabriel's heart, which already felt like it was in his stomach, skipped a beat. In his second of hesitation, the High Templar Mathias, seated next to the Templar Majoris, spoke in his place.

"WHAT?!?" The six and a half foot man leaped out of his throne, knocking it over. He slammed his fist on the long wooden table in front of him. "Sentius, that is unacceptable! You can't..."

His voice was drowned out as the entire room erupted into a fevered argument.

"...The law is the law!" one of the Templars said.

"...If the judgement of God fell so hard on this family, we should have no part of it" another screamed.

"...Throw them both out" a priest screamed.

The Templar Majoris stood and raised his hands, but it did no good. The anarchy continued as arguments from keeping them both in the University for protection to having them banished from Elgannan all together were shouted over one another.

The Archbishop, sitting still and listening until now, pounded his wooden staff three times against the table in front of him. All voices in the room fell silent. The decrepit old man, who some said had lived far beyond his years, braced himself against his staff and tried to stand.

Bishop Sentius attempted to help the Archbishop to his feet, but was shooed away. It took several minutes, but slowly and painfully, the Archbishop stood, leaning heavily on his staff. He spoke with a soft voice, yet tempered with age, wisdom, and strength of spirit.

"In all my years, I have never witnessed such an uncontrolled spewing of emotional speech." His head bobbed in an uncontrolled manner as he gazed upon the members of the council. Most of the priests, cardinals, and templars looked away ashamed as his eyes fell on them. Only Bishop Sentius showed anything close to regret.

The Archbishop continued. "Have you all forgotten what Lord Ki Kalendeen has done for this great institution? How much he has donated? How well his witness reflected upon us? Now, you want to throw his own flesh and blood to the very wolves that struck down such a great man of God? Never! Not as long as The Almighty..."

"Your Eminence, please..." Bishop Sentius broke in.

The sound of the Archbishop's staff pounding once on the table echoed throughout the large chamber. He turned and met the gaze of the younger, taller man. "Don't interrupt me, Sentius! I may be old, but I have not lost control of my faculties!"

Bishop Sentius sat down, suitably chastised.

"Let us also not forget that the young initiate before us and his sister are the nephew and niece of King Nicolae." The Archbishop sat back down in his seat, obviously exhausted. Yet, his voice still rang with authority. "Initiate..." His mind went blank and he looked to the Templar Majoris.

"Gabriel," he whispered.

"Initiate Gabriel, you shall continue along your path. And have no fear of what is to happen to your sister. She may have to earn her own keep, but she shall never be put out of the University as long as she desires to stay."

Gabriel genuflected once more to the Archbishop. "Thank you, your Eminence."

"And, Gabriel," the old man said as a single tear rolled down his cheek, "my deepest sympathies and condolences to you and your sister on your loss. If you wish to spend the next week in prayer, you shall be excused from your duties."

"Thank you again, your Eminence, but the work will help keep my mind off of..." suddenly, Gabriel became choked up. "... what has happened." His voice wavered, but he managed to keep from crying.

The Templar Majoris nodded to Gabriel. "You are dismissed, Initiate."

With as much dignity as he could muster, Gabriel left the room.

In spite of the warm, late spring sun, Gabriel felt as cold as a corpse. He ignored the path and walked right through the blooming flowers that lined the cobblestone in front of the Grand Rectory, and took the shortest path to the Cathedral. A gardener shouted at him angrily, shaking his fist as he trampled through the meticulously planted flowerbed, but he paid the man no heed.

Leaving a small trail of soil behind him, Gabriel entered the Cathedral. The smell of burning incense still filled the vaulted room, but other than an acolyte cleaning up from the afternoon mass, the room was empty, for which Gabriel was thankful. He picked a pew at random and sat down. After a few minutes of collecting his thoughts, he knelt down, folded his hands, and hung his head in prayer. Within seconds, he broke down into anguished sobs.

Prayer at this time was so hard for Gabriel, but he knew that only God could comfort him. He prayed with all his being in whatever way The Spirit quietly led him.

The room grew dark and cold as the sun set. The Acolyte tried to speak to him before he retired for the evening, but Gabriel was so deeply in his meditative prayer that he didn't even realize it.

After a time, Gabriel stopped praying. The room was dark, lit only by the eternal flame candle hanging near the altar. He found a scribbled note from the acolyte next to him on the pew. In the darkness, he squinted to read it. The acolyte stated he was leaving the side door open if he wished to leave. He had left a jug of water and some biscuits for Gabriel in the side vestibule if he wanted them, and he would be praying for him, as he felt his loss. Gabriel folded the note and placed it inside his tunic pocket. He had no desire for food or water, and doubted he could keep it down if he had partaken of it.

Reflecting back on his prayers, he realized that most of the time he had been pleading with God on behalf of Eleenia. He asked that the Holy Spirit would protect her always, and that she would still marry into a noble or royal family.

Rubbing his stinging eyes, Gabriel returned to his prayers.

* * * * * *

David marveled at the spectacular colors of the sky as the sun set behind the city. He quickly made his way along the boardwalk as fast as his bruised legs would take him. He tried to read the signs, looking for the Salt Spray Inn, but as the light waned, it became more difficult. Most of the signs were old and faded, having been exposed to the sea breeze for years. Having his right eye swollen shut didn't help much either. He had to stop and rest often, as when he ran out of breath, pain would shoot through his ribs. He spent his time resting on the wooden benches built into the boardwalk, staring out at the sea. Its magnificence still awed him, as did the array of ships that lined the harbor docks.

The boardwalk was fairly empty now. Most of the ships' crews had spent their money in the local taverns and brothels and were now either back on their ships or at one of the many inns that sat along the boardwalk. Anytime he heard someone coming, he would duck under a bench or conceal himself in some shadows until they passed. Most of the men were drunk, and with their senses dulled they didn't even notice him. The only time he was noticed was when he was overtaken by a coughing bout. One of the drunken sailors got down on all fours and peered under the bench. Fortunately, David had never seen him before in his life. The man said that rum would be good for his cough and offered him a swig from his jug, but David had thanked him and declined. He had asked him where the Salt Spray Inn was, but the sailor had no idea.

Doubt started crossing his mind. He was almost at the end of the boardwalk with only about ten or so buildings to go. Could he have passed it? It was a real possibility.

His thoughts were interrupted as four men came out of a brothel. A loud, chortling laugh sounded through the dusk... a laugh that David recognized as belonging to one of his attackers. His blood boiled with anger at thoughts of revenge, but if he were to attack them on the boardwalk, they would surely overpower him, and most likely kill him this time.

David scooted quickly through the horizontal boards that were strung between the posts that lined the ocean side of the boardwalk. His feet silently hit the sand and he quickly darted under the boardwalk and peered up through a small knot in the wood.

He sat quietly, praying he wouldn't cough and give himself away.

The four men walked over him, talking about their sexual escapades and the different women that had entertained them in the brothel. David could hear them as clear as day, but only understood about half of the vulgarity they were saying. As soon as they passed, David crawled out from under the boardwalk. It was completely dark now, and any moon there had been was obstructed by the clouds that had rolled in.

He quickly darted along the beach and watched as the men walked into a well-lit tavern. Even from where he was standing, David could make out the brightly painted sign hanging over the open door... The Salt Spray Inn.

David hoisted himself back up onto the boardwalk and quickly limped to the front door of the tavern. The double doors were propped open. David reached the doors and stood to the side with his back against the wall, making sure he was hidden in the shadows from the glow emanating from inside. After listening a second to make sure no one was approaching, he cautiously peered around the door.

For the size of the place, it was fairly empty. The bartender was busy tapping a keg that sat on a rack behind the bar. Seated at one of the many tables was a man with a black silk shirt, leather pants, and thigh boots. His feet were resting on the table next to a green-lined, black, tricornered hat with a large green plume. Each of his arms were around a plump woman, both dressed as barmaids. Nine empty ale tankards were upturned on the table as the three laughed raucously. Seated at the bar was a man wearing a maroon velvet jacket. He was hunched over a few pages of parchment and scratching his head through long black hair.

The four men who had earlier attacked David were strolling nonchalantly towards the bar. Kyle, the man with the large mustache, reached behind him and pulled a curved dagger from his belt.

David stepped into the room. The table against the wall next to him had a single empty metal mug upon it. He quickly grabbed it and screamed at the top of his lungs. "Captain Karinga! Watch out!"

All eyes suddenly went to David. The man at the bar glanced at the four men and jumped from his barstool. The four men scattered, trying to reach Karinga from different angles. In one fluid motion, the red-coated man grabbed a chair from a nearby table and smashed it in the face of Pem, the one with brown teeth.

The other three moved to surround him, all drawing their swords. Karinga unsheathed his rapier and began to parry the three men's thrusts, his back to the wall. David hurled the metal mug with all his might. His aim was true and it struck the mustached man in the back of his head. A sream filled the room and was cut short as a throwing knife seemed to sprout from another one's back, hurled by the man at the table with the two women. The mustache man, whom David had struck with the mug, turned.

"You little hell-spawn!" he yelled as he charged in David's direction, sword poised to kill. He thrust his sword with all his might at head level.

David dodged to the side at the last second as Kirby's sword struck the wall, sticking in the wood. Quickly, David darted under the table to his left. He expected the table to be upturned by his assailant, so he crawled under the next table, making his way to the bar. He could hear clangs of metal, women cheering the man in black on, and the cursing of Kirby, who had placed his foot against the wall in an attempt to dislodge his sword. David quickly crawled on all fours across the aisle and ended up under a table to Kirby's left.

The mustache man gave a hard yank and his sword was freed. Fear turned to anger and hatred as David watched him upturn the table he had previously been hiding under. He realized that his hand was gripping his new dagger, which David didn't remember pulling from his boot.

Silently, he climbed out from under the table. Kirby's back was to him as he turned over another table in his futile search. David took two steps and pounced on Kirby's back. The man thrashed to the right and David quickly dragged his blade across his throat.

A hand grabbed hold of David's arm and the room spun as his small frame was flipped through the air. He landed hard on a table, which gave way beneath him. The impact knocked the wind out of him and he heard his knife clatter across the floor. Expecting to be skewered, David rolled to his side and tried to come up on his feet. A pair of gloved hands grabbed his arms and steadied him.

"Easy there, boy. It's over."

David pulled free of the grasp. The man wearing black put his hands up. "Don't be afraid. Me and Jaxom won't hurt you."

David slowly looked around the room. Kirby, the mustache man, lay gurgling on the floor in his own blood. He was gripping his throat as blood continued to pump from the wound, letting out sputtering noises as he expired. The other three men were also on the floor, one with a knife in his back, the one who had been hit in the face, and a third who was crumpled up in a ball on the floor, gripping his chest. The man with the red jacket was wiping the blood from his rapier on the man's shirt.

The bartender had ducked behind the bar, and was just now peeking out to see what had happened. The two women rushed over to the man in black's side, telling him how magnificent he was.

The man with the maroon jacket stepped over the corpse with the dagger and bowed deeply in an exaggerated manner to David. "Lad, I thank you. I owe you my life."

For the first time since before the attack on his family, David smiled.

"Since we have not been formally introduced, I'm Captain Jaxom Karinga," the man said as he extended his gloved hand. The man looked to be in his mid-thirties, and had a short black beard and mustache. He was well muscled, as David could see through the sweat-soaked shirt he wore.

David took his hand and shook. "David," he said. The man was still looking at him expectantly. "David...." His eyes went to the leather glove on Karinga's hand. "Tanner! I'm David Tanner."

"Well, David Tanner, I..."

David heard Pem moan and saw him climb to his hands and knees. He let Karinga's hand drop from his grasp, ran over, and kicked Pem as hard as he could in the groin from behind. "Where's my pack?" he screamed as he set upon the man, who had rolled on his back, hands between his legs.

All Pem could say was "Me jewels! Me jewels!"

David landed punch after punch on the injured man's already-bloodied face. His vision turned red as he straddled the man, hitting him continuously on his broken bulbous nose.

Karinga pulled David off and spun him around to face him. "Easy there, lad! What pack?"

David pointed at Pem. "They stole my pack! I had all my money and clothes in it and they beat me up and stole it!"

Karinga let David go and knelt beside Pem. He grabbed him by his beard and lifted his head off the ground. "Is that true, shit for brains?" He shook Pem's beard back and forth, causing him to moan loudly. "Well, is it? What did you do with it?"

"We gave it to Captain Ferndock!" he screamed in a frightened voice. "Please don't kill me!" Pem began to cry.

Karinga drew closer to Pem's face, staring him right in the eyes. David wondered how he could stand the stench of the man's breath.

"You tell Gaceric and Ferndock," Karinga said, placing his dagger between the frightened man's knees. "You tell them the next time their piss boys come near me, whoever we don't kill, we shall send back to him as women!" He let go of Pem's beard and punched him right beside his eye. The large man's head fell back to the floor has he dropped unconscious.

Karinga ripped the money pouch off of the unconscious man's belt. He dug out two gold coins and flipped them to the bartender. "That should more than cover the damages and the cleanup. Go get the town watch. Tell them that these sons of bitches attacked us."

"Of course, Captain," the bartender said as he came out from behind the bar.

Karinga threw the pouch to David. "Here you go, Tanner. Check the rest of them. I know it's not all that was in your pack, but it should help."

"Thank you, Captain." David quickly darted to the other three bodies and collected their purses. He sat at a table and emptied the coins into a pile. He quickly separated the coins into their denominations, gold, silver, and copper, and counted them. "Hm. Almost fifteen gold. That's less than a fiftieth of what I had."

The man in black looked up from his ladies. "You know your sums, Tanner?"

"Yes sir."

"How many coppers in a gold?" Karinga asked.

David sighed. "100 coppers in a gold, 10 coppers in a silver, 10 silvers in a gold, 1000 coppers in a platinum, 100 silver in a platinum, 10 gold in a platinum. Please, Captain, that is elementary."

Karinga smiled and sat at the table with David. "That's Corwyn Fyke. He's my first mate."

Corwyn tipped his black hat and grinned, then went back to the women.

"Can you read and write, David?" Karinga asked.

"Yes sir. Quite well, sir."

Karinga walked over to the bar and fetched the parchments he had been reading prior to the attack. He set them down in front of David.

"This is the ledger of our trip here from Caledonia. What does it say?"

David put his coins back into one of the pouches and placed it in his tunic pocket. He picked up the paper and held it so the light from the lamps on the wall shined on it. "'Captain Jaxom Karinga is hereby charged with delivering forty-two crates of silk from Decia..." David glanced up at Karinga, who was grinning, his attempt to trick David having failed. David continued. "...to the household of Lord Eddington of New Portsmouth in the land of Elgannan to arrive on or about the seventh day of the month of the Resurrection. Payment of three gold per crate, plus a bonus of one silver per crate for every day before the due date the silk is delivered shall be paid in full at the docks of New Portsmouth by a representative of the Eddington household.' May I see the ledger please?"

Karinga handed the ledger to David, who began to scan the document. "Sir, I hate to tell you this, but it looks like they short-changed you by eight gold and four silver."

David jumped as Karinga slammed his fist down on the table. "I knew it! I knew it!" He turned to face Corwyn, who wasn't paying the least bit of attention. "Didn't I tell you they hornswaggled us?" He turned back to David, who had drawn his hands back and was looking apprehensively at the Captain. "I'm sorry, Tanner. I'm not angry with you. Quite the contrary, actually.

"I'm guessing you heard that the Aragil army is on its way?"

David nodded.

"I also take it you don't want to be here when they get here."

David again nodded.

"Seeing as how you can handle yourself in a fight, you know your letters and sums, and that you saved my life, I hereby offer you the position of Yeoman aboard my ship, the Waverunner." He removed his glove and extended his hand to David.

"What's it pay?" David asked.

Laughter came from Corwyn and the two women. "You gotta love 'im, Jax!"

Karinga chuckled a bit. "Three shares of the profit. Plus a bonus from the operating expenses whenever you catch anyone trying to cheat us."

"Deal," David said as he shook the Captain's hand.

"You could have found a lot worse, Cap!" Corwyn said from across the room.

Karinga smiled and nodded. "Aye, Cor, but I don't think we could have done much better."

David smiled as Karinga mussed his hair.

"Come on, men," the Captain said. "Let's get out of here before the watch arrives."

* * * * * *

Eleenia headed quickly towards the Cathedral, clutching her shawl tightly as she walked through the crisp late morning air. Worry was evident on her usually calm and collected face. No one would meet her eye, and quite a few people had stopped talking to each other as she walked past them. It was almost enough to take her mind off of the parchment she had found nailed to her bedroom door. She had assumed she was in trouble for spending the night at Janelle's home, but it couldn't be helped. Janelle's friend Holle had arrived, and as they all talked and laughed, they had lost track of time. By the time she had thought about leaving, night had fallen and it was no longer safe to travel the streets. When she had arrived at her room in the morning, a notice for her to see His Grace, Bishop Sentius, two hours after the evening meal. The rumors had abounded about the Bishop and his complete disregard for his oath of celibacy, and upon reading the note El had become sick to her stomach.

"Surely the Bishop wouldn't attempt anything with Gabriel around," she said under her breath as she past a gardener. She smiled at him as she passed, but the man's eyes dropped to the ground.

Her mind quickly worked to produce a plan. Gabriel was sure to be angry with her for staying at Janelle's, but if she could bring up the letter, perhaps it would divert his anger elsewhere. She wasn't sure how well it would work. The only person that had talked to her was one of the martial instructors, Brother Na'Hastas. He had stated that Gabriel had spent the entire night in prayer at the Cathedral and was probably still there.

Eleenia sighed. For Gabriel to stay up all night and pray because she had not come back last night was the height of self-righteousness. She decided she would berate him for his self-imposed martyrdom. She smiled confidently as she arrived at the Cathedral doors.

The overwhelming smell of incense hit her like a wave as she entered and caused her to become slightly light-headed. Incense and an empty stomach in the morning had never sat well with her.

There were several people mulling about, and several standing in line outside the confessional, but she quickly found Gabriel kneeling by himself in one of the middle pews. Removing the parchment from her dress pocket, she walked over sat down next to him with a huff.

"I know what you are going to say," she said.

Gabriel didn't move. He just kneeled, hands folded and head bowed in prayer.

"Gabriel! This is getting ridiculous. I know you don't approve..." Eleenia gasped as her brother looked up at her.

His eyes were swollen and bloodshot from a night spent crying. Salt streaks from the tears ran down his cheek leaving gray splotches on his white tunic.

Eleenia put her hand on his shoulder. "What's wrong?"

Gabriel reached for her and buried his face on her shoulder, letting out deep, tormented sobs of grief. Eleenia wrapped her arms around his neck and let him cry. He would tell her what was wrong in his own time.

After a few minutes, Gabriel pulled back. Eleenia removed a kerchief from her pocket and handed it to him. He blew his nose loudly into it, drawing attention from the people standing in line at the door of the confessional. Eleenia looked at him expectantly.

"El, they're gone." Gabriel started to become choked up again.

"Who?"

"Father, Mother, everyone! They're all dead! The castle was attacked during the wedding! Everyone..."

Eleenia staggered back stunned, half trying to get her mind around the words, half pushing back the growing feeling of panic. Her breathing quickened as she grabbed onto the pew in front of her to steady herself. The images of her family flashed through her mind as her throat began to tighten and close. She could picture them being slaughtered, screaming as they died in the most horrific manners her mind could create. Clutching her head, she let out a blood-curdling scream as she tried to force the images from her, but they didn't stop. Fortunately, Gabriel was there to catch her when she fell unconscious.

* * * * * *

A hard rap on the door awoke David from his deep, peaceful sleep. The small cabin he had been given in the forecastle didn't reek as badly as his cabin on the riverboat, but it was far from clean, although a good bit bigger. Captain Karinga had mentioned that passengers occasionally used these cabins, but he allowed the officers to have them when the Waverunner was on cargo runs. Since most of the crew had spent the night ashore, three of the four of the small cabins were available.

"Yeoman Tanner! Wake up!" Fyke's voice was a bit too cheerful this early in the morning. "The some of the crew are coming on board and the Captain wants you to meet them! Come on, lad, you're going to sleep the day away!"

David rubbed his eyes, coughed up and spat out a smoky phlegm ball. "I'll be right there, sir!" he said groggily.

"Calling me sir is like putting a gold ribbon on a sack of cow dung. Just call me Fyke. Everyone else does. Now come on, Tanner! It's noontime already!"

Noon? It didn't feel like he had slept that long. Then again, he couldn't remember much of anything after getting into his room. He had impressions of lying down, a feeling of safety, and then the next thing he remembered was Fyke knocking on his door. Thirteen hours... He sprang up from the pallet, fearful that Karinga or Fyke might be cross with him for oversleeping. Rolling up his oversized sleeves and pants, David opened the door and walked into the sunlight. He had to avert his eyes, as they had become accustomed to the darkness. He walked onto the deck of the ship, once again being stunned by the beauty of the sea.

Fyke clapped him on the shoulder, which made David twinge. He was still in a lot of pain from the beating he had received the day before.

"Top of the day to you, Tanner," Fyke said, adjusting his tricornered hat so it cast a shadow over his eyes. "The crew will be along any minute. In the mean time, would you like something to eat or drink?"

It did sound inviting. "Yes sir, although there is something else I need to take care of first." David bit his lip, his sense of manners making him reluctant to talk about bodily functions.

"Just piss over the side, lad." Fyke stepped over to the doorway leading to the lower decks. "Hey Doc! Bring our new Yeoman up some good grubbin'!"

David walked over to a space in the rail on the ship's port side, facing the sea, and after glancing around to make sure no one was watching, he nervously relieved himself into the water below.

A man dressed in a dirty white apron with a tray of biscuits, a cut of salted pork, and a wooden cup came up the stairs. He set the tray on a small table by the doorway, and looked David up and down. "So Cor, this is the lad who's gonna make us all rich, eh?"

"Indeed he is, Doc. David Tanner, meet Tye Moran, ship's cook."

Tye extended his hand to David. "Folks on board call me Doc. Pleased to meet you, Yeoman Tanner."

David glanced at the man's hand. "Sir, forgive me for not shaking your hand, but I just... um..."

"He just took a piss, Doc," Fyke said.

David blushed, as he was not used to such coarse talk.

Doc laughed. "Oh, don't worry," he said, grabbing David's hand, shaking it vigorously. "No worse than what goes into the food every day."

David pulled his hand back, horrified. He glanced at the meal Doc had brought up, then over to Fyke, who was chuckling.

"He's just teasin' you, Tanner."

Doc nodded, smiling. "I'll be down fixin' up some of Quenton's hangover remedies for the crew, Cor, if you need me." With that, Doc walked through the doorway, returning to the lower decks, wiping his right hand on his apron.

"Go wash up. There's a wash basin in your room."

David hurried back into the room and washed his hands. He came back out, finding Fyke staring southward towards a group of ships anchored a distance in the harbor. Walking over to the tray that Doc had left him, he split open a biscuit and put the piece of pork between the two halves. He inhaled deeply, smelling the pork, and for the first time in days, exhaled deeply instead of coughing. He was definitely on the mend. David bit deeply into the pork biscuit and tore a piece off, chewing it slowly.

"Jax needs to get back here soon. Ferndock isn't going to like what we did to his men last night," Fyke said, not taking his eyes off of the ships to the south. "He hates us as it is, with Jax refusing to pay tribute to him and his pirate boss. Stick with us, you may be in for more than you bargained for, Tanner." He lowered his voice. "I'm in for more than I bargained for," he said, to no one in particular.

David swallowed the chewy meat and bread. Taking the cup, he took a deep drink. His eyes flew open as he staggered back, almost tipping the cup over as he set it on the railing. Fyke slapped him on his back, chuckling, as David gave a deep, guttural cough.

"Just a bit of extra strong mead there, Tanner! It's good for you. Puts hair on your chest! Can't hold your drink there, eh lad?"

David's cough subsided. "No, it isn't that sir... um, I mean Fyke. I just wasn't expecting it. I thought it was water and I..."

Fyke's eyes lit up. "You haven't got the hocking cough, have you?"

"Oh, no sir! No, I swear it! There was a fire and..." David stopped in mid sentence, thinking he had said too much. If Corwyn or Karinga figured out who he was, he had no idea what they might do. While they seemed nice enough, David wasn't going to take any chances on anyone turning him in.

Fyke relaxed. "Ah, caught in that mess up in Lystra, eh? Shame what happened up there. Ki Kalendeen and Branvold were good men. My father fought for Ki Kalendeen when he was a general for King Nicolae. He fought with him at Korval, Crystal Springs, and at Denning. Tanner, do you know how they knocked down the Denning walls?"

David shook his head, answering honestly.

Fyke looked back southward towards Ferndock's ship. "Neither do I. Old Pap knew, though. But he wouldn't tell me."

"He wouldn't have told anyone. Lord Ki Kalendeen only picked the men he trusted at Denning to help him, and swore them all to secrecy. Father always said..." David had done it again. He felt a lump in his throat as he started to choke up.

"He said what, lad?"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Fyke. My father was with Lord Ki Kalendeen also at Denning." David turned and started sobbing.

Fyke put his hand on David's shoulder. "It's okay, Davey. Me and Jax figured that your father was killed in Lystra. Probably by the looters, right? They set his shop on fire and you escaped. Am I right?"

David wiped his eyes, trying to stop crying. "No, it isn't that. My father sent me and his apprentice, Alex, to Lystra to buy new tanning tools. Alex's cousin lives in Lystra, and went to the Ki Kalendeen's for the wedding. I didn't want to go, so I stayed at the inn. Alex never made it back."

Fyke nodded. "Well, that explains why you had so much gold taken from you by Ferndock's men. Would you like us to take you home to Northpoint?"

David shook his head. "After losing Alex and all of that gold, home is the last place I want to go."

"Yeah, but you want to let your father know you're still alive, right?"

"I went to Pigeon Post when I first arrived in New Portsmouth," David lied. He was suddenly hit with a wave of sadness and began to sob, which he quickly forced back down. "I'm sorry, Mister Fyke. I'll try to be stronger."

"Lad, let me tell you something that might make you feel a bit better. You saved Jax's life yesterday, and probably mine too. Jax isn't a man to forget a blood debt like that. It is part of his Gylinian heritage. You are welcome to stay with us as long as you like. We spend a lot of time at sea, and there ain't nothing like the expansive water and a cool salt spray to chase away the head demons. Now," he said, handing David the cup of mead, "drink up." He pointed out towards the dock. "Here comes three of our best people now."

David drained the cup of mead, suppressing another cough. Fyke's words had made him feel a bit better. He glanced up at the three men coming on board. The first was a tall, older man with sunken features and short, black hair. He wore heavy sailor's clothing and had an air of authority about him.

"That's Dunkirk. He's our boatswain. The crew know to not get on his bad side before he's had his mead ration in the morning," Fyke said. "He can teach you how to pick a lock if you'd like."

"Who's the bald man in the fancy clothes?" David asked.

"He's our ship's surgeon, Quenton. Nice fellow. Good with the herbalist and apothecary remedies and such. Once saw him amputate a man's arm in twenty seconds."

"And the stocky guy?"

"He's our Jimmy-Legs, Stockmoor. But everyone calls him Edge. He'll teach you how to fight with a blade, Tanner. If he had been with us yesterday, he would have walloped all four of Ferndock's men while holding in a fart."

David chuckled a bit at Fyke's last comment while taking the last bite of his pork biscuit. "You were pretty good with that throwing knife last night, Mr. Fyke. Can you teach me?"

"Did I hear someone askin' to learn how ta' throw a knife?" Edge said, reaching the top of the gangplank.

Fyke led David over towards the three men. "Gents, I'd like you to meet our new Yeoman, David Tanner."

Dunkirk gave David a half smile and a nod and headed towards the forecastle cabins.

Quenton grabbed David's right hand and shook it vigorously. "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Tanner. Looks like you've been in a scrape in the last day or so. After I get settled, I'd like to look you over a bit and make sure you are alright."

"Nonsense, Quenton, the lad looks right as rain to me. A few bruises and scrapes, it drives the ladies wild, eh?" Edge said, giving David a light slug on the arm, causing him to blush a bit. "I'm the one who taught Fyke ta throw like that, lad. I can teach y' too, and show y' how ta fight like a pit slayer!"

The surgeon pressed his lips together. "I think the lad needs to get some rest and heal up proper, Edge, before you go slapping him around and poking him with your practice sword."

"Alright. You take good care of him, Quenton!"

"Come on, lad. The rest of the crew will be along shortly. Captain says we're setting sail with the afternoon tide."

With that, he led David down into the sickbay.

* * * * * *

Eleenia slowly opened her eyes. Had it all been a dream? She glanced around at her surroundings, finding that she was in her own bed. Oddly enough, she was still wearing her day clothes and shoes. The smell of aromatic herbal tea filled her room. She glanced over to the small fireplace, seeing Gabriel tending to the fire, her small teapot hanging over it. He was still crying, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. Reality hit her like a fist in the gut as she realized that it hadn't been a dream. She felt under her bed for her chamber pot, and pulling it out, she emptied her stomach into it.

Gabriel poured the steaming tea into a tall mug as Eleenia finished. He walked over and sat down by her on her bed. "Here, drink some of this."

Eleenia took the cup into her hand. She was grateful for her brother's watching after her. Raising the hot liquid to her lips, she took a slurping sip. She smiled a bit, as Gabriel had made the tea far too strong. "Thank you," she said.

"I hope I made it correctly."

"It is fine," she lied, setting the mug down on her nightstand. She took a deep breath and a cold shudder ran through her. She looked to her brother and drew strength from his presence. "Gabriel, did they tell you what happened?"

Gabriel sighed heavily. "From what I've been told, there was an attack on the castle during the wedding. Soldiers from Aragil, they say. They killed everyone and now they are marching on southern Elganin. Reports are still coming in. It would appear that after King Tyral died, so did Prince Eric, and now Dorian is on the throne."

"Tobias' brother," Eleenia said through her clenched teeth.

Gabriel put his arm around his sister. "Now El, Tobias had nothing to do with it. He hates Dorian also."

Eleenia put her head against her brother's shoulder. "Why would anyone do such a thing?" El cried. "Mother, Father, oh, poor little David! And on Alexander's big day! He and Mareth would have been so happy! Why?!? How could God allow this to happen?" El began to weep deeply. "Oh, Gabriel, what are we going to do without them?"

Gabriel wiped the tears from her eyes, then from his own. "We're going to have to go on. I guess once you finish your coursework you can stay on as an instructor. I understand that your mentors are most impressed with your knowledge. You always were the smart one, El."

Eleenia nodded. "I hope they don't send you away once you become a full knight. You are all I have left in the world." She once again began to sob heavily.

"Well, you do have..." Gabriel took a deep breath. "You do have Janelle and Holle."

Eleenia sat up and stared at him in disbelief.

"Now don't look at me that way," Gabriel said. "I don't approve of either of them, especially Argos. They are both arrogant, disrespectful, and don't know their place. But..." Gabriel clenched his fist and continued. "Their friendship makes you happy, and like you said, I probably won't be here once I become a full knight."

Eleenia hugged her brother and began to cry again. Her tears were born of anguish, but tempered with a hint of relief.

Gabriel put his arm around her and let her spill her tears. The words he spoke were some of the hardest he had ever had to say. Janelle Argos was a common little trollop who didn't know her place. Her family going off to war was no excuse for her hatred of the church or her rebellion against societal norms. Hatred against men in general and her constant lashing out at those in authority spoke of her weak character and her purely emotional world view, devoid of any hint of logical thought. If Janelle wanted to be angry at someone, she should be angry at her father for not remarrying after her mother had died in childbirth. A girl needed a mother to teach her how to behave like a woman, just as a boy needed a father to help him be a man. Her father had failed her, trying to raise a son and a daughter by himself, especially as a mercenary in the employ of the Elgannan army. The war had raged for four generations, and while Elgannan had temporarily gained the advantage for the first time since the fall of Denning to Caledonia seven years ago, it was far from over.

Denning, The Unconquerable City. It was the pride of Caledonia for hundreds of years, and the staging point of every attack upon Elgannan for as long as anyone could remember. Its alabaster walls could be seen from a day's journey away, gleaming in the bright sun as a beacon to traders and travelers, and as mocking dare to any army who dared attack. They had withstood attacks from enemy armies, clans of desert nomads, marauding barbarians from the west, and terrible storms of rain, hail, wind, and ice. Scholars of academia and warfare alike had said the fortified walls of Denning would stand until the Day of Judgment. They had been gravely mistaken, and Caledonia had paid the price for its overconfidence.

Ten years prior, an army under the command of Gabriel's father, Lord General Alexander Ki Kalendeen III, had knocked down a large section of the southern walls. The method used to do this was unknown to most of the world, most of his army, and even to his family. Gabriel had asked his father several times how he had accomplished what generations of scholars had said could not be done, but an answer was never forthcoming. All Gabriel ever received was a reassurance that there was nothing supernatural involved.

Gabriel began to become choked up. A lump formed in his throat as his thoughts turned to his father. He was pleased that his father had been proud of him and heaped praises upon him for his decision to serve the Church. His last meeting with his father had been when he brought Eleenia to the university, saying goodbye to his only and beloved daughter. Gabriel was thankful that his final parting words with his father were words of encouragement, appreciation, and pride.

The bells that signaled the serving of the evening meal rang in the distance, bringing Gabriel's thoughts back to the present. He had no appetite, and would stay with his sister as long as his duties would permit, or as long as she wanted him to stay.

Suddenly, Eleenia sat straight up. "Gabriel! I almost forgot! Bishop Sentius has ordered me to report to his office in two hours!"

Gabriel forced a reassuring smile. "He most likely wants to tell you of the news."

"But why would he have waited so long? Wouldn't he assume that you would tell me?" She bit her lip nervously. Understanding passed between them without words, as the Bishop's reputation for taking advantage of young women in distress was a constant source of rumor in the halls of the university.

Gabriel took his sister's hand. "Not to worry, El. I shall be there with you."

"The note says that I am to come alone."

Eyes narrowing, Gabriel gave Eleenia's hand a reassuring squeeze. He spoke in a cold, forceful voice. "Note be damned. I shall be with you when you speak with his Grace. Oath or no oath, I promise you that as long as there is still life in me, no harm shall befall you that I have the power to prevent."

Eleenia hadn't realized how much of the fires of anxiety had filled her until they were extinguished by Gabriel's words.

* * * * * *

"Well, Mr. Tanner, you definitely are on the mend." Quenton began to put his instruments away. "You can put your shirt back on now."

Slowly, David did so. He was still tender from the beating he had received. The noise above on deck was starting to get louder. More people were walking around and chatting. He suspected the rest of the crew had returned.

Fyke pounded on the doorframe that led down to the lower deck. "Tanner, get up here! Captain wants to see you!"

David hopped down off of the surgeon's table and hurried up the stairs. He squinted, as his eyes had gotten used to the soft candle light of below decks. Once his eyes adjusted, he was impressed to see the main deck busy with twenty-five or so men, getting ready to set sail.

"There you are, Tanner."

David jumped. He hadn't heard Captain Karinga walk up beside him. He noticed that Karinga was nursing a fresh scrape on his cheek. "Captain, what happened to you?"

"Ah, just a few more of Gaceric's piss boys. Nothing to worry about. Here, take this and look it over," he said, handing David a rolled parchment.

David unrolled the parchment and leaned against the forecastle wall that housed his small room. Quietly, he studied the parchment. Karinga had secured a large salt contract from a large meat warehouse. He angled the contract so the sun shown directly upon the small lettering. His heart sank a bit as he read the details of the deal. It was becoming obvious to him that while Captain Karinga had a good heart and was an excellent sailor, fighter, and adventurer, his skills in business left a bit to be desired. Regardless, David had decided to help him, and he would do his best to make sure that the faith that was put in him was not misplaced.

Karinga looked at him expectantly as the rest of the crew went about their business of readying the ship for a quick sail.

David gave the captain a dubious look. "Captain Karinga, are you sure you want to speak of this here?"

Karinga motioned with his hand indicating that David should get on with it.

David lowered his voice and leaned towards the Captain. "If I am to be your Yeoman, I must insist on accompanying you on negotiations. Please don't misunderstand me. Under normal circumstances, a contract such as this would be an excellent deal, but these are not normal circumstances. This merchant, Wembly or whatever his name is, wants the salt delivered to a warehouse almost two days' ride north of the city. From what I remember from my books, there isn't a port where we can dock the Waverunner up there. You are going to have to hire a caravan to transport it. Also, with Gaceric's piracy and the coming battle, sea transportation is at a premium! Every ship in the port at that time will be ferrying people away from the city, and those that can't afford it will be cut off from the rest of the world, assuming there is an extended siege. This merchant is obviously wagering that many a poor cattle farmer is going to sell him his cows cheap so as to pay for transportation. He is going to take them north, slaughter them, as feed will also be at a premium if a siege takes place, and he wants to preserve the meat with salt. At times like this, salt is as good as silver." David suddenly noticed that almost the entire crew was listening to him lecture the captain on negotiations and economics. He continued. "If the cattle were to remain in the city or nearby, the Aragil army would most certainly confiscate them and slaughter them for provisions. They could also find the stash if it were stored within or close to the city. After the siege, this Wembly would be able to sell the preserved beef at outrageously inflated prices."

Karinga's eyes had glazed over during David's lecture. "So you are saying I struck a bad deal?" he asked quizzically.

David began pacing back and forth. "Let me think. There has to be a way to salvage this situation."

Fyke butted in. "Is it that bad, Yeoman?"

"Considering what a caravan will cost with an invading army bearing down on them, this could be a total financial disaster for..." David paused in mid-sentence and brought the contract up to his eyes again. "Hold on. It says you are responsible for delivery of the salt to the warehouse." David continued to scan the parchment. "It doesn't say anything about you having to PAY for the caravan! Is the merchant still in town?"

Karinga thought for a second. "Um, I suppose he is."

"Good." David rolled up the contract. "Take me to him. We still have something further to negotiate. At worst, Wembly will cancel the contract, and that will be a far better situation than we are in now."

The captain shot a half smile towards Fyke. "Didn't I tell ya, Corwyn? I knew I made the right choice with this lad."

Fyke laughed and slapped David's back. "This lad is going to make us rich, Jax! And himself too."

David stuffed the swelling feeling of pride back down. "We can congratulate ourselves when the deal is done. But now, we must catch him before he leaves the city."

Karinga nodded. "Dunkirk, have them batten down for now, but we'll be returning within the hour. Be ready to set sail."

"Yes, Captain." The tall dark boatswain said. He began to bark orders to the crew, who obeyed without question.

Edge jumped down from the quarterdeck, landing with the grace of a cat. "Cap'n! If'n its all the same to ya, I'd like ta tag along. I'll just be gett'n in the way here, an' with the trouble you've been havin' with Gaceric..."

"Alright, Edge. But if anything does happen, I can handle myself. You make sure nothing happens to our new Yeoman. Understand?"

"Aye, sir. I'll be protect'n him like he was my own son." Edge grinned at David. "But after a few months at sea with some of my trainin', he won't need anyone's protectin'!"

Karinga nodded and the trio made their way down the gangplank and into the crowded city.

* * * * * *

A loud, hollow pounding echoed through the chamber as the oversized silver and jeweled knocker struck against the metal strike plate beneath.

Eleenia stood with her brother before the large, gold inlaid teak double doors that lead to waiting area outside Bishop Sentius' office. The butterflies that had disappeared from her stomach were back for an encore at the thought of meeting a man with such a philandering reputation as the current Bishop of Avonshire. Many children across Elgannon were said to be his bastards. The girls that shared El's classes had spun many a tale about his lecherous ways. In fact, one of her classmates had come to be with child and was put out of the University, having to return to her family in shame. Rumor had it that the Bishop was the father of her unborn child.

Panic started to grip her at similar thoughts, as her heart started to feel as if it were beating out of her chest. What would she do if he demanded of her virtue? Giving in was out of the question, as she was determined to save herself for marriage, having made a pledge to her mother and to God. But what if he forced himself upon her and she also came to be with child? Her breath started to become shallow.

El jumped as Gabriel gave her a reassuring pat on her shoulder. She looked to her brother and attempted to give him a smile, which turned out rather pathetic as she fought back tears.

No, she thought to herself, she would rather die. How to dissuade a man's attempt to force himself upon her was one of the first things that Holle and Janelle had taught her. Castrating a Bishop would most certainly send her to the gallows, but it was a price she was willing to pay to keep her virtue and honor intact. After the loss of her family, it was almost preferable to going on with her life.

"Don't work yourself up, El. I'll be with you. I promise," said Gabriel.

El took little comfort from his words. He was indentured to the Church, and the first of the Articles of Faith of the Holy Defender read 'Service to the Church above all, save God himself.' Gabriel lived to serve God and the Church. Family was secondary to them, and troubling thoughts crossed her mind. Would he stand by her if push came to shove? She prayed that he would.

The bolt on the other side of the door could be heard scraping across the wood. El inhaled sharply and stopped breathing as one of the large doors creaked open inward.

One of the Bishop's three sycophantic aides, the Deacon known as Brother John, stepped between the doors and glanced at her with lust in his eyes. "Eleenia Ki Kalendeen, his Grace will see you now." He looked to Gabriel. "You may go, Initiate. His Grace has not summoned you."

Gabriel gave a quick bow of his head, and then looked the aide in the eye. "If it is all the same to you, sir, I will accompany my sister."

Brother John gave an indignant scoff. "It is not all the same to me, Initiate. Be off with you. Report to the kitchens. I'm certain there are pots that need scrubbing and Mistress Wetherbee could use your help. Now go!"

He grabbed Eleenia by the forearm, pulled her inside, and tried to swing the large door closed with his free hand.

Gabriel stopped the door with a powerful pound with the flat of his fist. "Be that as it may, I shall be accompanying my sister." He stepped inside, forcing the aide back. "And you will take your hand from her this instant."

"I beg your pardon, Initiate, but you shall do as you are told!" To drive the point home, Brother John dug his fingernails into El's forearm. "Do not make me have the Bishop's guards put you out of his office."

Eyes darting to either side of the room, Gabriel saw that there were two ceremonial guards standing on either side of the waiting area. They were dressed in gleaming platemail armor, decorated with crimson-highlighted black leather. Polished silver helmets covered their faces and intricate chainmail gloves rested upon halberds. The two guards took a step forward, ready for John's word to pounce upon the unarmed initiate.

"Brother John, you are making this situation worse than it needs to be. All I require is to accompany my sister into his Grace's office. So let go of her!" Gabriel's hand moved with lightning speed. In one quick movement, he plunged his thumb into the flesh between the aide's thumb and index finger while grabbing under his pinky with the rest of his fingers. Simultaneously, Gabriel pressed down with his thumb and lifted with his fingers, pulling John's hand off of El.

The aide gave an alarmed yell and both guards were on Gabriel immediately. With their right hands holding the large, unwieldy halberds, they tried to restrain him with their left. Gabriel stepped into the guard on his right and slammed his forearm into his opponent's armored chest. The guard lost his balance at the blunt force of Gabriel's blow and tumbled into a decorative table, smashing it to pieces and sending a loud clang echoing through the chamber. The other guard dropped his halberd and further secured his grip on Gabriel's left arm with both hands.

Gabriel quickly spun to his left and placed his right leg behind the armored guard and pushed with his shoulder. The guard stepped back, only to trip over Gabriel's leg, sending him sprawling to the ground, his helmet popping off, clattering across the wooden floor.

The door to the Bishop's office opened and Sentius stepped into the room. "John! What is going on out here?" he screamed.

The aide had stepped back from the scuffle. He pointed at Gabriel accusingly. "That initiate attacked me without provocation and the guards came to my assistance!"

"You lie!" yelled Gabriel at the top of his lungs.

"No, 'tis true what Brother John says!" interjected one of the guards from his position on the ground.

"Enough of this, this instant!" yelled the Bishop. "Initiate, explain yourself!"

Gabriel took a deep, calming breath. "You had summoned my sister to your chambers, your Grace, and I was accompanying her. Your aide saw fit to dismiss me, and he assaulted Eleenia by grabbing her arm. I was very insistent, removed his hand from her, and the guards tried to restrain me."

The aide feigned an indignant, shocked look. "Your Grace, he is lying! He was the one..."

"Silence!" The Bishop's tone did not invite discussion. "Initiate, why must you accompany her in my presence?"

"I will not have her taken advantage of by anyone, your Grace."

Sentius stood for a moment, then shook his head, laughing under his breath. "I see the rumor mill has been hard at work again. Come, Brother Gabriel. If it will make you feel better, you may accompany your sister."

El gave a sigh of relief. They both followed the Bishop into his office and he closed the door behind him, leaving Brother John seething. Eleenia sat in the chair opposite of Sentius' desk and Gabriel stood behind her. The Bishop's office was the most elaborately decorated room either of them had ever seen. Priceless works of art lined the walls. The desk was hand-carved from a reddish brown wood that neither Gabriel nor El recognized. The Bishop rounded to his throne-like chair and sat down, folding his hands in front of him on his desk.

"Eleenia, I assume your brother has told you what has happened."

Eleenia nodded.

The Bishop loosened his collar a bit and continued. "We are sending a group of Holy Defenders to Lystra to verify what has happened. Your uncle Rameus shall be leading the expedition. Now, your father, God rest his soul, paid for your tuition in full up front, all seven years of it. However, he only paid for your room and board through the end of this month. You have a choice. You can either stay in the noble ladies' hall and work the kitchens for twenty-five hours a week, or move to the common dorms and work in the kitchens for six hours a week. What shall it be?"

"Is it permitted for me to stay outside of the university?" El asked, hoping to be allowed to stay with Janelle.

"Unfortunately not. Outside, we cannot guarantee your safety."

"I shall move to the common dorm then." El gave a sigh of relief.

"Very well," the Bishop said. "Starting tomorrow, report to Mistress Wetherbee. Upon graduation, the Archbishop has declared that a healer's assistant position is to be extended to you, in recognition of your fine academic work and for the contributions to the church by your family."

Gabriel put his hand on El's shoulder.

Sentius leaned forward. "I want to make it clear to you that I do not believe you have yet earned a healer's assistant position. I believe His Eminence was acting out of sentimentality and nothing more. A little advice: Keep your head down and do not make waves for the remainder of your schooling. If you continue to prove yourself, I shall change my mind. You are both dismissed."

El rose to her feet and she and Gabriel turned to leave.

"Oh, and Brother Gabriel," Sentius called after them. "I expect you to make restitution for that table you destroyed in my foyer. Leave the door open. I need to see Brother Krennan after you leave. That is all."

Eleenia and Gabriel walked in silence, not making eye contact with the three men outside the Bishop's office. Once they were through the double teak doors and had pulled them closed, they smiled to one another, both adequately pleased with the outcome of the meeting.

"Thank you, Gabriel, for standing by me when I needed you."

"Of course," Gabriel said warmly. A dull pain started gnawing away at his gut for the first time since the meeting with the council. "We should stop by the dining hall on our way back to your room. With all the angst, I hadn't realized how hungry I was."

* * * * * *

The bow of the Waverunner cut a wake through the calm, dark waters of the Decian Sea as the boy now known to all as David Tanner sat upon the jib boom, watching the sun set as they made their way west to Port Maynard. The sky was a thousand different colors, and the saltwater sprayed on his face in rhythm with the bobbing of the ship.

David had spent the last 30 days with the Waverunner. The crew quickly grew to love their precocious new Yeoman, as he had increased the profits by a factor of ten in a very short time. He was quickly learning the way of the sea, the finer points of negotiating and commerce, and for the first time since the wedding tragedy, he had the feeling of belonging.

Edge had made David his most recent project, and was teaching him a very low, but very effective way of fighting. Some of the techniques would have made his martial teacher at the castle lose his breath and hyperventilate, but Edge insisted that the only goal of a physical confrontation was to emerge unscathed. All gentlemanly rules were for fops. A quick blow to the knee, gouging of the eyes, groin kicks, as well as low stabs and attacks from behind were part of Edge's repertoire, and given his relatively small size, David definitely saw the advantage of them.

David inhaled deeply. It had taken three weeks for his lungs to fully heal after the fire. He finally had the taste and smell of smoke out of him, and his ribs no longer hurt from his beating by Gaceric's men. The light duty assignment of his position had given him time to recuperate. Other than checking over the cargo once in a while, he had little to do but to stare out over the ocean and cleanse his mind of the demons. Doc had tried to recruit him into scouring the pots and dishes for him, but Karinga had put a quick stop to that. Jax wouldn't have the best thing that has happened to him since winning the Waverunner become disgruntled. The captain had made sure afterwards that everyone on board knew David Tanner was an officer, even if he was young.

As they would sail close to a port, Karinga would call David into his cabin and they would discuss strategies of the upcoming negotiations and what other cargo they could buy, sometimes almost doubling the profit of the trips. On their most recent excursion to Port Kolm in Decia, they had obtained a contract to take silk to Port Maynard in Gylinia. The contract offered an extra gold for every day before the due date that they had arrived, but David convinced Karinga to forego the bonus in favor of a quick stop at Northpoint. There, they had purchased as many barrels of apple cider as the ship would hold. Given the lack of apple-growing climate in Gylinia, plus the constant drain of the war, David knew the cider would fetch a handsome price, almost four times what they had paid for it.

Two of the barrels had found their way to David's cabin, where he had quickly tapped one. He couldn't stand the strong mead that the crew drank, and the water had quickly gone tepid in the hold barrels. David longed for a cup of his father's sweet wine, but such a fine luxury might raise some eyebrows of the crew, and even make him the object of ridicule. Anytime someone complained or acted like they were too good for what was available, crewmen heckled the man and quickly put a stop to the offending behavior.

David took a bite of his hardtack, left over from Doc's skillygalee and dandyfunk prepared for dinner. He washed it down with the final drink of his cup of cider. Although Corwyn had considered the dishes "good grubbin'," to David, they left a lot to be desired. Then again, Fyke had always used the phrase "good grubbin'" when describing anything he ate.

"Planning your next mercantile conquest, Davey?"

David jumped, startled at the sound of Fyke's voice, almost sliding off of the jib boom. He swung his legs around, facing the flamboyant first mate. "Of course, Mr. Fyke," he replied, sliding back down to the deck. "Nothing like the sound of gold in one's pocket to keep a crew motivated, eh?"

"Indeed," said Fyke. "Quite a bit of haul you've brought us over the last month. And I have to say, talking Wembly out of the salt contract, then getting him to thank you for it, quite a bit of masterful fast talking."

David shrugged. "He wouldn't have made any money off of it. New Portsmouth has probably already fallen without a battle. Lord Eddington will align himself with whoever he thinks the victor will be. In fact, he probably welcomed the Aragil army with open arms and a kiss."

Fyke chuckled. "Hey David, do you have anything on you? Doc shorted me on the dandyfunk and I'm a might peckish."

"Oh, certainly." David reached into his pouch and pulled out several hardtacks. "Here you go. Plenty more if you want them."

Corwyn broke a piece off and popped it in his mouth. "Ah, good grubbin'. Here, watch this."

Fyke looked around to make sure Doc was nowhere in sight, and crumbling one of the hardtacks, he threw it over the side. When the crumbs hit the ocean, the water looked to come alive as scores of fish came to the surface to feast upon the remains of the biscuit.

David grinned at the sight, as he had never seen anything like it before. The more he got to know the sea, the more he loved it. From the dolphins that would jump in their wake to the large sea turtles and mantas he would catch glimpses of, everything fascinated him like a child receiving gifts on the morning of Christ's birth.

"Funny stuff, eh Tanner?" said Fyke with a grin. "Just don't let Doc catch you doing that. He gets a might pissed when anyone wastes any of his good grubbin'."

"Mr. Fyke, where did you pick up that phrase, good grubbin'?" asked David.

"Ah, just something they used to say a lot back home."

"Home? Where do you hail from?"

Fyke cocked his tricornered hat and looked off into the distance, scratching his bearded chin. "I grew up downwind from the Ordures Blanches, leagues southeast here. Quite the simmering stink pot, but it is home. My family settled there right after the Rain of Fire, and most of them never left. Of course if you stay, by the time you are 30 you no longer have a sense of smell."

"How old were you when you left?"

"About 16, I guess. I don't know, Tanner. I've lost track of the years."

David suspected Fyke had lost his sense of smell long before he left home, given the gloppy gruel he would often proclaim as good grubbin'.

"Well, if you will excuse me, Tanner, I've a need of something with which to wash down that there hardtack." With a grin and a nod, Fyke excused himself.

David turned his attention back to the sea. He crumbled up a hardtack and threw it into the water as he had seen Fyke do. The water came to life with many more fish than before as they competed for the precious bits of biscuit, bringing a grin back to David's face.

"'Ey, Tanner," Edge called from atop the forecastle. "How's about I teach ya how ta throw some knives t'morrow?"

"Anything you say, Edge!" he hollered back.

"Good! Come find me after yer mornin' meetin' with the Cap'n!" Edge turned and jumped down back to the spar deck.

"And I'll teach you to talk so you don't sound like you have a head full of rocks," he said under his breath. David climbed back up onto the jib boom, letting his mind once again become lost in the rhythm of the ship upon the sea. It would soon be dark, but David didn't worry. He hadn't had a nightmare in weeks, and he suspected he wouldn't again in a long time. Finally, he felt safe.

* * * * * *

A warm breeze from the sea blew in through the open stained glass windows, the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks outside. An ancient oak carved table sat in the middle of the room under the domed ceiling. It was filled with delicacies from Ulster to Rome. Stuffed pheasant under glass, steaming beef seasoned with exotic spices, legs of lamb, suckling pigs, and a variety of bread dishes cut a sharp contrast with the skeletal guards that lined the walls. Laughter and merriment echoed, mixed with the rolling of waves. The fifteen men rose from their seats, lifting the fine crystal goblets in a toast to their success.

Sagaroth took a deep drink of the dark red wine. To him, it tasted bitter and sour, although he had been told that it was a fine, exquisite vintage from southern Gaul. He wasn't much of a wine drinker, in spite of his country being famous for its vast vineyards and wineries. A tall pint of ale or dark beer was more to his liking, or a strong whiskey.

He watched Kadeus take a dainty little sip of the wine. The man still confounded him. Something about him made Sagaroth feel drawn to him, yet repulsed by everything in his being.

Eight of the other men in the room were apprentices to the Great Necromancer. One of the remaining six one wore a royal adviser's robe with the colors of Elgannan. Sagaroth guessed he was a member of King Nicolae's high council. Another dressed in a manner he didn't recognize, but he surmised the man was most likely from Gylinia. Yet another wore the markings of the Caledonian royal court. The red cloak of a Fallen Holy Defender draped the shoulders of the next. Standing next to Dameus was a hulking barbarian dressed in animal skins, biting into a large fowl leg. The man was wielding a large axe that emanated power like Sagaroth's sword. The final man in their circle wore a long, hooded robe that marked him as a member of the church. The hood and the shadows masked his face from view.

The barbarian examined his goblet and glanced Sagaroth's way. "You enjoy this swill, general?" The man's voice was loud and gruff, with a thick Scandinavian accent.

Sagaroth smiled. "I have to admit that my tastes run more towards dark beers, but Dameus here tells me this is good as far as wine goes."

"Bah!" The barbarian emptied the contents of his goblet on the stone floor. "In my lands, we drink soured goats milk with hard grain mash and ox blood! That is the drink of a man, not this spoiled grape juice."

Several of the necromancers shook their heads and chuckled. "Lord Odin, your rusticated mannerisms never cease to entertain," one stated.

The Norse warrior blinked, not quite understanding what was said. His attention was quickly turned back towards his food.

Kadeus set his cup down on the table. "I am happy to admit, gentlemen, that my early underestimation of General Sagaroth was in error. Minimal bloodshed with maximized results. Most impressive!"

"Hear, hear!" echoed several around the table. Dameus rolled his eyes.

The Great Necromancer continued. "I spoke with King Dorian this morning. He is prepared to execute the second part of our operation. The loss of the Blackrock mountains will strike a critical blow to Elgannan's war effort and return things to a stalemate. King Nicolae will be forced to plead with the church for aid."

He turned to the man in church robes. "And you are sure the archbishop will refuse?"

The churchman gave a nod. "Yes. Neither he nor Bishop Sentius will act for fear of bringing the church into scandal."

"What of the Fallen?" Kadeus asked the man with the red cloak.

He shook his head. "Nah. Much too busy cleaning up the church's messes to be a threat."

The man in the Elgannan livery spoke up. "My agents will be sure to incite the commoners. The blame for their continued war strife will lie squarely upon the church."

Sagaroth was beginning to become confused. "Lord Kadeus, to what end is all of this intrigue? I have to admit to feeling a bit lost."

"Souls, my dear general. Souls." Kadeus took another sip of his wine. "The Rain of Fire and the following upheaval were a mistake. Sudden disasters tend to cause people to turn to the enemy in droves. We lost many souls to heaven in that grand blunder, but Necromancer Tetramon will be paying for his errors for all eternity," Kadeus said with a smarmy smirk. "This time, we shall do things a bit differently."

"People tend to get complacent in their spiritual lives when they are war weary, or especially if they are fat and happy, general," said Dameus. "Here's to a fat, happy, and spiritually deprived world!" Dameus raised his glass.

"Hear, hear!" several of the necromancers said, draining their goblets. Skeletal servants ambled over to refill their cups.

"I want no more of your putrid vinegar, vile stack of bones!" Odin said when one of them tried to pour.

The necromancer Tolinar, seated directly across from Sagaroth, leaned forward. "What if the enemy decides to inspire the people by raising up a hero?"

Kadeus gave a cocked smile. "That, my first apprentice, is the reason we shall have to remain ever vigilant."

A hushed silence came over the group. It was an uneasy silence that no one wanted to break. They began picking at their food, even though they were all gorged.

The man in the Elgannan colors stood up. "Lord Kadeus, I think you for the wonderful meal. However, I must be going before I am missed. I have a meeting with King Nicolae in the morning, and my assistants will wish to brief me before nightfall."

"Yes, I must retire as well," said the Caledonian lord.

"Very well," said Kadeus. "I shall send you all messages as needed. You all have your assignments. Meet with your operatives, and we shall gather again in two months to discuss any further developments.

With a small commotion, the party began to break up. Most of the necromancers led the guests out of the room to transport them back to their homes. Aside from the skeletons cleaning up the remnants of the feast, Dameus waited until he and Kadeus were the only two left in the room.

Dameus waited until Tolinar closed the large double doors behind him on his way out. "My lord, I believe I deserve some of the credit for what transpired in Lystra. It was I who did most of the dirty work. And while I wouldn't dream of contradicting you in front of the others..."

Kadeus interrupted. "Yes, I know. But General Sagaroth is relatively new to the upper echelon, and I want him to feel appreciated. It is he I shall be counting on if King Dorian decides to stop out of line. And besides, military types need to be talked up. We both know your contributions, and so does the master."

Dameus nodded, taking a large drink from his goblet.

"Please, Dameus. Pouting doesn't become you."

"I'm just cleansing my palate after sitting next to that barbarian Odin all night. I swear those people never bathe."

"Is there something else?" asked Kadeus.

"Yes, there is," said Dameus, slamming goblet down harder than necessary. "Sagaroth has an odd obsession with purity, and I am concerned about his dedication to the cause. He knocked out several of my teeth because Lady Ki Kalendeen was slain in the attack." He leaned over and pointed at Kadeus. "I tell you, my lord, he wanted to bed her because of her purity and goodness. He is of two minds, that one. I am certain he is going to be a problem. I say we kill him now."

Kadeus thumped his chest with the top of his fist, freeing a belch. "Oh, Dameus, don't be so extreme. The master wants the General in place to deal with any problems that arise in the south."

Dameus exhaled in frustration and sat back in his chair.

"Ah. I see. Well, my second apprentice, if you feel so strongly about it, I had better heed your warning." Kadeus took another dainty sip from his cup. "I suppose we had best keep Lord General Sagaroth under close surveillance." He turned to Dameus and gave him a gloating smile. "I shall send you back with him."

Dameus sat straight up. "What? You can't be serious! My lord, what about my research? I am so close to creating the new undead! Please, my lord! I must stay here!"

"Tolinar will continue your research. He is much more capable and contented than you are. There will be less chance of things getting out of control with him, unlike with what happened on your last attempt. Now go."

Standing up quickly, knocking his chair over backwards, the second apprentice stormed out of the banquet hall without a word.

Kadeus snickered, taking another sip of his wine.

* * * * * *

David leaned upon the poop deck railing at the Waverunner's stern, watching the city of Port Maynard become little more than a speck on the horizon.

It was another amazingly successful trip, resulting in enough money to buy some Gylinian luxury items such as wines, fine ales, and beers that would sell handsomely in Port Cauldwell. However, given the small amount of money left over for the crew after buying the commodities, David had received some angry stares. Still, the choice of more money later or a small amount now kept them from having to hire on more crewmen. Fyke had told him that with the exception of Captain Karinga himself, there wasn't a decent sailor to be found in Gylinia's southern port city, partly due to the war and partly due to the fact that they were mostly farmers. Decians, however, were natural born sailors, so David had concocted the plan to keep all of the current crew on board. Not one had of the men had cashed out and left.

David smiled and turned, heading for his cabin. He had bought some sweet rolls and dried beef when they were ashore, and he was anxious to partake of the treats.

A hard, wet object struck him in the back of the neck. A scrub brush landed on the ground next to him and skidded across the deck. David spun around to see who threw it.

All six of the men were busy tending to various mizzen ropes that controlled the sails at the aft of the ship. All six were also trying to hide their snickering.

He turned and continued towards the forecastle, when someone said "Popinjay!" in a falsetto. David stopped and walked over to where the men were working.

"Do one of you have a problem?" he said, trying to show as much authority as he could muster.

One of the deckhands, about three years older than David although much thinner, stepped forward and pushed the young Yeoman in the chest, shoving him a few steps back. "Never has to do any work, always lounges around dreaming. Now we're not getting paid for our last trip!"

"I assure you, you will get paid once we reach Port Cauldwell. Probably more money than you've ever had at one time in your entire life. Now get back to work and don't bother me again!"

The crewman glared daggers at David. "Oh yeah, you little fop? What if I want to do nothing like you do?" He shoved him again, driving the point home. A few other crewmen had come up from the quarterdeck to watch the altercation.

"Don't do this," David said, trying to remain calm. "I am in no mood to explain my function on this ship to the likes of you. Now get back..." His words were interrupted with a stinging slap to his face.

David hesitated a second while the anger was unleashed within his blood, and he was on the older boy in an instant. He jumped, wrapping his arm around the boy's neck. The crewman's greasy hair enabled him to pull his head free and he punched David square in the stomach, making him stumble backwards.

The boy picked up one of the wooden anchor pegs in the railing, sending a strand of rope flying upwards. A mizzen sail high above lost its wind and began flapping uncontrollably. Brandishing the peg like a club in his right hand, he stepped forward to pummel the young Yeoman. David, however, was ready for the strike. Recalling his martial lessons, he blocked upward with his left forearm impacting upon his attacker's wrist, stopping the blow. Quickly, he reached up behind the boy's arm with his right, and placing his right hand upon his left, David forced his arm back at a bad angle, popping the crewman's shoulder out of the socket.

The crewman dropped the peg anchor and screamed as David slammed him backwards to the ground. Instantly, David jumped upon his chest, straddling him. Grabbing a handful of greasy hair, he began to slam the boy's head against deck. "Damn you! You bastard!" David's screams carried across the entire ship as he released his pent up rage on the young sailor.

A strong pair of hands pulled David from the battered crewman. "Enough, Yeoman! Its over!" Edge held onto David, waiting for him to stop flailing.

"What in the hellfire is going on here?!?" screamed Captain Karinga as he climbed the ladder from the quarterdeck. Veins were popping from his neck as his face turned a deep shade of crimson. "You!" he said, pointed to one of the six poop deck crewmen. "Tell me what happened or I'll throw you overboard!"

The crewman shrank from Karinga's gaze. "Young Georgie got a bit hot under the collar because he be workin' all the time in the hot sun while Tanner stands around and does nothin' all day!"

Edge set David down, satisfied that he had finally settled. "Cap'n, Yeoman Tanner told them ta get back ta work, an that lad slapped him. Then Tanner beat the live long piss out of 'im."

The captain looked at the boy, lying on the deck, arm twitching uselessly by his side. "Edge, pop his arm back in. Then give him five lashes for striking an officer and throw him in the brig! We'll put him to shore when we reach Port Cauldwell." Karinga turned and shouted to the rest of the crew. "And any other of you who have a problem with Yeoman Tanner's duties aboard this ship, feel free to put some chum around your neck and swim back to Gylinia! The next person who disobeys his orders or dares pick a fight with him or any other of my officers will find themselves worked over so badly they'll be wishing their pappy had pulled out early! Now back to work!"

Karinga's face melted from anger to concern as he walked over to David. "Tanner, are you alright?"

David nodded. "I'm fine, Captain. And thanks to Edge, he's fine too," David said, pointing to the battered Georgie. He looked to the other five men who had been in on the taunting, but none of them dared meet his gaze.

"Good," said Karinga, walking David towards the quarterdeck. "What do you say you, Fyke and I tap one of those ale barrels and discuss where we are going to go from Port Cauldwell?"

Fyke stuck his head up from the quarterdeck. "Did I hear the magic words 'tap one of those ale barrels'? If so, I know just the one!" Fike turn and practically skipped towards the spar deck, bringing a smile to David's face.

* * * * * *

Warm spring afternoons at the Archbishop's University of Avonshire were Eleenia's favorite time of the year. Class loads were light, her coming two hours in the dish pits of the great kitchens would soon be over, and the sun shone on the beautifully manicured courtyard as the Holy Defender senior initiates began to mold their new charges. Boys barely 15 years had promised their lives to the church. They had arrived full of hope, idealism, and naivete, only to have their perceptions of the order and their young worlds shattered by the harsh realities that would mold them into true men of God.

Sitting on the ledge of a raised flowerbed, Eleenia watched Gabriel walk back and forth not four legs away, giving the junior initiates lessons on the order. She saw so much of her father's manner in him; however, he had inherited their mother's intuition, insistence, and much of her looks. Eleenia's intuition and powers of discernment were tenuous at best. She relied much more on logic, and she had her father's gift of strategy, being the only one of his children to ever defeat him at a game of King's Table. The sweet victory was a singular occurrence, and he had trounced her every other time they had played, although her father was the only one so far who could defeat her at such games.

A tear rolled down her eye as she watched her brother, her only link to her family, now that their uncle Rameus had seemingly vanished. The last month had been so hard. The other daughters of nobles had shunned her upon learning of her family's deaths. They taunted her by saying she was now a commoner, even though she had a claim of royal blood, King Nicolae being her uncle. In spite of that fact, her uncle had disowned her mother upon the marriage to her father, and in turn had disowned her.

Perhaps they were right. Perhaps she was now but a commoner.

Eleenia shook the thoughts from her mind. She was not one to give into such petty notions. After all, it was a person's actions that defined them, not birth. The lowest gravedigger, rat catcher, and middens tender who went about their life content, doing their job to the best of their ability was far more noble than a pampered dandy who had never did a lick of work in his life. That is what she believed in her heart, and expressing such beliefs in front of the nobles' daughters had gotten her into a number of heated shouting matches. The arguments had only come to blows once, but after Janelle's lessons the other two girls were no match for her. After their trouncing, the girls had resorted to gossip and snide comments. However, now that she had moved into the commoners' hall, much of the drama was behind her.

Of course, the lies the nobles' daughters had told and her fight had landed her in plenty of hot water, literally. Instead of just six hours a week in the dish pits as prescribed by Bishop Sentius, she had been assigned work hours at no extra pay. She now worked in the pits seven days a week for two hours a day while the other girls received no punishment whatsoever. The thought of it made her clench her fists in anger.

"My child, what vexes you?"

Eleenia was startled by the cathedral convent's Mother Superior. "I'm sorry, Reverend Mother. I was just angry about the judicial board's extra work hours placed upon me. It was unjust. They are just pandering to the nobles."

The middle-aged nun placed her hand on Eleenia's shoulder. "Worry not, my child. God knows the truth. If their judgment was based upon lies, it will return to them. Remember the words of the Apostle Paul in his letter to the Romans. "Avenge not yourselves, but rather give place unto wrath: for it is written, Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord."

"Yes, thank you, Reverend Mother," Eleenia said.

"I have prayed for you every night since I heard the news about your family, Eleenia." The nun patted her on her shoulder. "I shall speak to Father Steven and get to the bottom of this. It is the least I can do after the service your father once performed for me." The nun smiled at Eleenia's quizzical look and was off.

Eleenia sighed, resting her elbows upon her knees and placing her chin in her hands. It suddenly occurred to her that she should have asked what service her father had performed, but the nun was nowhere in sight. So, Eleenia turned her attention back to Gabriel as he explained the Holy Defender Articles Of Faith to the young initiates.

"Your first task shall be to learn the Articles Of Faith! You shall be able to recite them by the next Sabbath in any order asked of you if you wish to avoid cleaning out the privies!" he said, pacing back and forth with his hands clasped behind his back.

"One: Service to the Church above all, save God himself. Service above family, above country, above all! Two: Conduct yourself in a manner that reflects well upon the order, the Church, and God. Three: Discern the difference between good and evil. Four: Be cooperative between your brothers of the order. Five: Always give mercy when it is asked of you. Six: Be respectful to your elders. Seven: Do not permit your thoughts and actions to grieve the Holy Spirit. Eight: Be faithful between teacher and student. Nine: Defend those who are weaker than you. Ten: Aspire to be an example of virtue that the world can look up to. Eleven: When you suffer, you suffer for God. Rejoice in your suffering!"

Gabriel paused as he was distracted by a messenger charging through the courtyard on horseback. He continued. "Twelve: Never take life needlessly. Thirteen: Keep short account of sin. Fourteen: Respect those in authority over you, for they were placed there by God. Fifteen: Never reveal the secrets of the order to those outside of the order. Sixteen: Do not be rash with your mouth, and let not your heart utter anything hastily before God. For God is in heaven, and you on earth; therefore let your words be few. Seventeen: Always pursue peace.

One of the initiates whispered something to the boy on his left. Both broke into hushed snickering.

Gabriel stopped and pointed to the two initiates. "Brother Simon, Brother James, after your lesson you shall report for class two work duty!"

He stared at the two boys as they groaned. "Shall we make it class one work duty? I'm sure the privies need a good cleaning."

Both boys lowered their eyes and settled down.

"I thought not. An hour peeling tubers, polishing armor, or waxing floors is lenient punishment for your immature behavior." Memories of his own punishments ran through his mind. He had been tempted to make it level three work, delivering messages or reading to old clergy who no longer had use of their eyes, but justice won out over mercy. By going easy on the boys at this point would only make things harder later on.

Gabriel continued. "Eighteen: Walk properly, not in revelry and drunkenness, not in lewdness and lust, not in strife and envy. Nineteen: Let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven. And most importantly, number twenty: Give all glory to God."

The large Cathedral bells rang twice, echoing through the courtyard, marking the end of the lesson. They also marked the end of Gabriel's duties for the day.

"That's all. Report to Father Alexis for martial training. I shall meet you all at the evening meal." Initiates always dined under the scrutinizing eyes of their mentors. The knights knew it drew them closer, but the younger initiates grumbled amongst themselves that it was just another opportunity to be given work hours.

Gabriel watched as his four charges lackadaisically stood up and dusted the grass off of their pants. "Move, gentlemen! Father Alexis does not suffer tardiness lightly!" With that, they hurried to the western end of the crowded courtyard. Walking over to the flowerbed, Gabriel sat down next to his sister.

"A bit harsh on them, weren't you?" Eleenia said grinning.

"Nonsense. Tobias would have had me knee deep in maggoty garbage for that." He stretched his arms and yawned deeply, causing Eleenia to yawn. "Are you finished with your duties?"

Eleenia nodded. "Care for a game of Tabula or King's Table?"

"I don't know. After you defeated me at Chatrang in eight moves yesterday..." he said, chuckling.

"Ah, afraid, are we?" Eleenia said, poking him.

The noise level in the courtyard started to increase. Two monks ran past in the direction of the main gates. One by one, people started to follow them, speaking quickly and unintelligibly.

"I wonder what's going on," said Eleenia quizzically.

Gabriel shrugged. He caught an acolyte running past. "Boy, what is happening?"

The young acolyte stopped, panting for breath. "Bishop Malachi has arrived in Avonshire with the children from Castle Ki Kalendeen!" he said.

Brother and sister looked at each other for the briefest of instants, and they both broke into a run. Eastward they ran, pushing their way through the growing crowd. Gabriel grabbed Eleenia's hand and pulled her along as he carved a path to the gate.

Gabriel offered up a prayer as he and his sister dodged through the crowd. Could David be with them? He would give ten years of his life if it were so. Although all messages they had received stated that all of the Ki Kalendeens had been slain, something told Gabriel that they were mistaken and that David was still alive. At last, after a month of emotional torment, he would find out if his intuition was right.

The inland port city's docks district was two short blocks from the sprawling university, and the two covered the distance in a matter of minutes. The dockside market was as crowded with clergy, Defenders, and initiates as the cathedral during the Feast of the Resurrection. While being one finger short of six feet, Gabriel still couldn't see over the crowd, although he figured that the Bishop and the children were at the center.

Gabriel's eyes quickly darted around, looking for Eleenia. The crowd was quickly pressing in against him.

"I'm right behind you," she said. "Stand still and force people to move around you."

Gabriel nodded in acknowledgement. Eleenia could always be counted on for strategic advice. He dropped into a front fighting stance, placing most of his weight on his front leg, leading forward with his shoulder. As Eleenia had predicted, the crowd flowed around him like water around the keel of a ship.

Eleenia kept pressed up against him, determined to not get carried away in the current of people. She clung to his green-lined blue cloak, which he had received upon becoming a high initiate.

"Get back! Let the children through!" someone yelled. Two Holy Defenders were leading Bishop Malachi and the children through the throng of bodies. Everyone was yelling towards the Bishop, shouting questions about the attacks. Malachi kept his stoic eyes forward.

"Move, initiate!" one of the Defenders said to Gabriel, attempting to shove him aside.

"Bishop Malachi!" Gabriel was determined to catch his eye. The Defender pushed him from the side, causing him to stumble sideways out of the way. Eleenia was carried with him as he became part of the crowd, starting to become carried by its flow.

"Wait!" shouted the Bishop. "Eleenia, come here, my child!" he said, stopping in his tracks. "Gabriel, Eleenia! For goodness sake, let them through! Children, step aside. Let them through!"

Gabriel fought his way towards the Bishop, Eleenia still clinging to his cloak.

The Bishop took both of them into his chubby arms, giving them a crushing hug. "My children, I am so sorry about what happened."

"Liam!" Eleenia cried, as she caught glimpse of the young Branvold boy over the Bishop's shoulder. She dislodged herself from the Bishop's embrace and went over to him.

"Your Grace," said Gabriel, as he and the Bishop parted. "David?"

Malachi looked down towards the ground and shook his head. "I'm sorry. He insisted on staying behind."

"Your Grace, I must insist that we keep moving!" The Defenders pulled the Bishop and the children along with them. Eleenia stayed with Liam, pulling him along.

The crowd quickly carried the group away, leaving Gabriel standing, mouth agape. The reality of his last vestige of hope being gone hit him in the gut like a fist. Dropping to one knee, he hung his head and wept.

* * * * * *

Port Cauldwell was the largest port David had seen thus far. Elgannan's Port Cirill was said to be larger, but it escaped David as to how this was possible. Docks filled with ships lined the city for a quarter league in each direction from where the Waverunner put in. Everywhere were strongbacks and hawkers, sailors and merchants, all taking part in the whirlwind of commerce going on in the Decian capital.

When they came in sight of it, the first thing that struck David was the sprawling alabaster-colored buildings that went from the sea right up to the mountainside. Ships with flags of every color were coming and going. Gualian and Germanian long-distance cargo ships, usually rare this far north, were peppered throughout the port. Over the past several generations, many people from the port cities of Elgannan and Gylinia had fled to Port Cauldwell in order to avoid the war and the press gangs, as able-bodied sailors who imbibed too much ale at a seaside tavern often found themselves an involuntary member of the navy. With the war having been quiet the last twelve years, the flow to Decia had slowed, until recently. Aragil's surprise attack a mere six months after King Nicolae renewed his offensive to retake Denning had once again caused the mass migration to Decia to take hold.

To the Waverunner, that meant cheap labor for unloading and hauling goods, plus a plethora of able-bodied and experienced sailors. Before the landing party had even stepped off of the gangplank, a score of men had shouted offers for their services to Karinga. He had selected six of them to carry some sample wares to his contact's place of business.

In addition to David, Captain Karinga had brought along Edge and Fyke. This was a guild-run port, and Gaeceric had men stationed all throughout the city. Gaeceric was demanding that Karinga pay 20 gold per month in dues to be allowed to trade. Karinga, of course, had refused. Although in principle David could understand why, their level of profit was quickly rising to make 20 gold a drop in the bucket. David was waiting for the right moment to broach the subject with the captain, as not having to live in fear of an attack at sea or in port might be worth it.

Over the last twelve years, since Gaeceric became the leader, the Sea Merchants' Guild had grown in power and influence. It had also grown in reputation, and not for the better. After Gaeceric's predecessor had led a mercenary army to Pirates' Cove and rid the region of most of the large pirate fleets and captains, the guild had quickly sunk to fill their place. As a result, many of the former members had disassociated themselves from the guild, only to become targets for guild piracy themselves.

Since Karinga was a small operator, and not overly successful, he had mostly passed unnoticed by the guild. However, after the altercation in New Portsmouth and David's subsequent enlistment as the Waverunner's Yeoman, David believed that was about to change.

Slowly the group made their way through the throngs of people. David had purchased several pears from street vendors, although due to the stink of the refuse and waste that filled the alleyways of the city, he quickly lost his appetite. He had ended up giving the pears away to a pair of thin little orphans, most likely brother and sister, who now followed them. The two had quickly eaten the pears, cores and all. David was about to turn and give them some silver when Fyke tapped him on the shoulder.

"Here we are, Tanner. This warehouse is run by Lady Malcoeur. She and Jax go back a long way, but watch yourself in these negotiations, lad. She could sell a king a shack in the Devon swamps, and have him pay twice as much as a manor on the Thane costs. We shall definitely know your true mettle as Yeoman after this."

David was ushered by Fyke into the warehouse office area. Immediately his senses were assailed by the contrast with the outside world. The whites of the city gave way to a myriad of colors. The filthy stink of the streets were replaced by the sweet smell of incense. The walls were painted with a bright sky blue and pictures of landscapes that few eyes had seen were captured by the imaginations of their creators. Expensive furniture was sparsely but tastefully placed throughout the large waiting area and light streamed in from high, small windows spaced every two feet across the entire room. David was overwhelmed by the sheer elegance. Even his father's castle couldn't match Lady Malcoer's tastes. This fact brought butterflies to David's stomach, as he feared he might be in over his head.

The two street orphans darted past Fyke and stood by David, bringing the smell of the city with them. They looked to David expectantly. Reaching into his pocket, he gave them each five silvers before Fyke shooed them back outside.

"Keep that up an' you'll be that poor in a month," Edge said.

David ignored the comment as Captain Karinga came through the door.

Karinga motioned outside. "Did those two kids steal something?"

"No, Cap'n. David gave 'em some silver, that's all." Edge's voice had a touch of disapproval about it.

"Ah," Karinga said absently.

The six men came into the room, hauling two large kegs of beer and two cases of wine. Karinga turned to them, noticing them eyeing up the room. He pictured them smearing their grimy hands on Lady Malcoeur's fine possessions. Images of being required to make restitution prompted him to speak. "You men wait here until called for. Don't touch anything, don't sit on anything, just stand there. Do well, and I'll hire you gents on board my ship.

The men nodded understandingly and began to chat amongst themselves.

"Want me to wait here, Cap'n?" asked Edge.

Karinga nodded. Turning, he knocked on the ornately carved oak door that led into the main office area. The door was opened by a tall man with salt and pepper hair and matching facial hair. David felt as if he definitely had a no-nonsense attitude about him. He was almost a hand and two fingers over six feet tall. Dressed in leather britches and a red silk shirt, he wore two matching short swords at his waist. The darkness of his eyes and the chiseled lines of his face told of the lives he had taken in the line of duty. When he saw the captain, however, the hardness of his features softened into a smile.

"Jax! So good to see you!" the large man said, extending his hand. "How long has it been?"

Karinga clasped his hand. "Too long, Johan. Far too long."

Johan closed the door behind him and stepped into the entryway, eyes fixed on the two large barrels. "What have we here? Elgannan ale, perhaps?"

"Gylinian dark beer!" Fyke chimed in. "Only the best for you and Lady Malcoeur."

Johan nodded with approval. "Good. Very good indeed. Been a while since we've had some good beer in the city." His eyes fell on David. "Hello there, little fellow," he said, fishing into his pouch. "How about a silver and you be on your way."

Karinga, Fyke, and Edge laughed deeply. The captain put his arm around David. "No no, Johan. He's with me. I'd like to introduce you to my newest officer, Yeoman David Tanner. He'll be coming with me and doing the negotiating with Lady Malcoeur."

Johan pointed to him in disbelief. "A kid? Jax, you're joking."

"I assure you, my dear friend, I am not joking." Karinga's smile seemed to almost stretch beyond the limits of his face.

"Alright," Johan said, shaking his head in resignation. "She won't be happy about it, I can promise you that." He led the three men into the main office, leaving Edge with the six laborers and the sample wares.

The inner office reflected the same taste as the outer area, but it was much more practically decorated. A beautiful mahogany desk was the focal point of the room, as every one of the six chairs was turned precisely to face it. Behind the desk was a woman in her late 30's. While not possessing the type of beauty a tavern wench or a preened and decorated courtier showed, she had a striking presence about her and a strong, a very earthy beauty, and a charisma that emanated confidence and authority. Her brown, curly hair hung at shoulder length, worn back a bit to show off her ruby earrings and matching necklace. The dark red of her coat was brought out by the black trim and her white tunic underneath.

Lady Malcoeur stood when the group entered the room. "I can't believe it! Captain Jaxom Karinga!" she said, striding over to the captain and giving him a friendly hug. "I was sure Gaeceric would have caught you by now." She grinned widely.

"If that pirate does manage to catch me, then I deserve to be caught. Its good to see you, Kal." They stood smiling at one another, old friends and rivals. David could only imagine the years of memories that passed between them.

Kal's eyes lingered on the captain for a brief instant as she turned her head to Fyke. "And how are you doing, Corwyn?"

"Well, m'lady, I can't complain."

She looked to David. "And who is this handsome young man?"

"This," Karinga said, putting his arm around David, "This is my new Yeoman, David Tanner. He'll be handling my bartering from here on."

All looks of enjoyment drained from Lady Malcoeur's face. "You can't be serious, Jax."

"Oh, I assure you, Kal, I am quite serious. David here has a head for numbers and strategy, and he is wise beyond his years."

"How old are you, David?" she asked.

"I am fourteen, Lady Malcoeur," David responded.

Kal's face immediately turned sour. "Karinga, are you here to do business or to play games? If it's the latter, don't waste my time." She gave a frustrated sigh. "This isn't for fun, it is how I make my living," she said, accentuating her last words by smacking the back of her right hand against her left palm. Giving an indignant "Humpf", she went back around her desk and sat in her throne-like chair. The icy glare she gave Karinga told that nice-time was over.

The captain held out his gloved hands in front of him. "Look, Kal..."

"Jax, I don't want to hear it," she said, crossing her arms. She avoided his eyes and shook her head disapprovingly.

Karinga leaned forward, putting his fists on the desk in front of him. "Kal, look at me. If he is good enough for me, why isn't he good enough for you?"

David noticed that Johan's hands inched their way to the sword hilts on his belt. He looked relaxed, but was poised to strike at the first hint of any danger to Lady Malcoeur.

Karinga continued, oblivious to Johan's movement. "What is the real reason you won't negotiate with Mr. Tanner here?"

Kal finally looked Jax in the eyes. "Because I'd feel bad taking advantage of a child." Her voice sounded almost like a hissing snake.

"Just as your usual customers would feel bad taking advantage of a woman?" David interjected.

Lady Malcoeur's looked to David and raised an eyebrow. She looked into David's eyes, reading her soon-to-be opponent, anger and contention draining from her face. "Well now, you figured that out, did you?"

David tried to hold back a smug smile, but couldn't.

"Alright, Mr. Tanner. What have you gents got on board your little ship that I might be interested in?"

* * * * * *

"Get yer filthy hands off that, ye stink!"

The laborer quickly withdrew his hand from the silver candlestick as Edge swatted at him.

Johan emerged from the door with a tap and pewter tankard in hand. "Lady Malcoeur said I should sample some of your beer. Any one of you know how to tap a keg?"

"I do," one of the men said, rubbing his hand on his grimy tunic. "My mammy was a tavern maid. I know what I'm doing."

Johan nodded and handed him the tap.

Another laborer, who had started dancing in place spoke up. "Boss, I gotta be gettin'outta here for a bit."

Edge nodded. "Don' take too long."

The laborer dashed out the front door, ran quickly across the street dodging people in the crowded streets, and ducked into the alley between a tailor's shop and silversmith's. The shadows sufficiently hiding him from view of the street's ladies, he fumbled with the rope holding up his pants and began to urinate against the wall of the tailor's shop. Steam rose as he sighed in relief, allowing his shoulders to slump.

"Garth," a voice said from the alley entrance, startling the peeing man. The newcomer took a few steps towards him and stopped.

"Commodore Donegal!" Garth said, voice giving away anxiety.

Donegal struck a sulfurstick against the stone wall to his right and lit the pipe he had in his mouth. "Careful, you're pissing on your shoe."

Garth snapped back to awareness and tucked himself back into his pants, causing a small wet stain to grow down his leg. "Sorry, Commodore." Though the effort was in vain, he did his best to make himself presentable to Gaceric's main enforcer.

Taking a long puff from his pipe, Donegal shook out the sulfurstick and blew smoke through his nose. "Tell me what Karinga is up to."

"He's in there trying to sell two hundred barrels of dark beer and twenty cases of wine to Lady Malcoeur. He's got a Yeoman with him who's a silver-tongued young'n doing the bargaining for him. His first mate and his Jimmylegs are with him too, and five hired hands," Garth said, eager to please.

"They the big barrels?"

"Yes, sir! Took two of us struggling to carry each one."

Donegal pursed his lips together. "Hm," he said. "Two hundred of them, you say?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Good work. Here," Donegal said, flipping a silver to the grubby laborer. "Go to a tavern and get yourself a drink. Don't go back to the warehouse."

"But sir," Garth pleaded, "they were going to give me five coppers and hire me on!"

Donegal took the pipe out of his mouth and spat a stray piece of Iberian nightshade into the filthy ally. "Is five coppers worth your life?"

Garth nodded, tucked the silver into his tunic, and left the alley quickly without a word.

Ignoring the stink, Donegal put the pipe back into his mouth and smiled. "Time for a reckoning, Captain Karinga."

* * * * * *

"I know you couldn't have paid more than three gold per barrel," Lady Malcoeur said. "There is no way I am going to pay you sixteen a piece for average quality beer."

David scoffed. "Average quality. My lady, this is the finest Gylinian dark beer that Port Cauldwell shall ever see!" He ticked off each of his points on his fingers. "First, you don't have to pay guild premium on it. Second, with the war picking up again, this is going to be one of the final batches Brewer Gillhurst will be selling to merchants for possibly years to come. Third, Johan here can't seem to get enough of it." David turned to the large bodyguard. "How many tankards is that for you, sir? Two?"

"Three," Johan said, trying to stifle a belch. "He does have a point, Kal, this is an exceptional brew."

Lady Malcoeur shot an angry glance at the large man. "Johan, you aren't helping things. Go outside and make sure those hired hands of theirs aren't chewing on the furniture."

Suitably chastised, Johan made his way back out to the reception area. He motioned for Fyke to join him. The alluring call of beer was all the motivation Fyke needed to comply.

Kal turned her attention back to David. "Fine. I'll give you six gold each for them. That will be double what you most likely paid for them."

David shook his head, folding his arms. "My lady, that is unacceptable. There are at least 250 tankards in each of those barrels. Tavern owners are going to sell it for a silver each. That is 25 gold per barrel, assuming they don't water it down." David sighed. "I think I can come down to 15."

"Alright, it is quality beer. I will give you that. But I need to make a share for my up-front investment. I can't sell it for 25 gold, plus I have to store it, guard it, and keep Johan from drinking all my profits. I'll give you seven golds each."

Karinga smiled, extremely pleased with the price Lady Malcoeur offered.

"Fourteen. With as many high class-establishments as we passed on the way here, you won't have to store them for longer than a week."

"Eight. Any higher than that, and it will be more profitable for me to send my own ship up to Port Maynard and purchase 200 barrels of my own," she said, making a sweeping gesture.

David grinned. "I don't think so, my lady. I bought up his entire reserve."

"Oh, you little knave," Kal said, smiling. "Nine. And you are pushing me to my limit. Remember, if I don't buy it from you, you'll have to find another merchant with the ability to handle your load, and you won't find anyone else with our capacity in all of Port Cauldwell. Or you could go door to door and try to sell it yourself."

"Thirteen. If you don't want them, we'll simply head down to New Portsmouth. With all the extra soldiers down there, I'm sure there will be a hefty market for Gylinian brew." David thought his stomach would be in knots at this point, but he was actually enjoying the contest.

"Ten is my final offer. And you have to throw in those two sample barrels out there for free."

David sat quietly for a few seconds. He glanced at Karinga, who looked like he was about to burst with joy. Settling himself back in the chair, he studied Lady Malcoeur's face. The fact that she was blinking rapidly told him she was losing her patience and he had just about pushed his hand as far as he could. "Only if your men come to the Waverunner and pick them up."

"Mr. Tanner, we have ourselves an agreement." Kal reached across the table and shook David's hand. He exhaled in relief. Karinga, unable to contain himself further, giggled with glee.

"Now, on to the wine," Lady Malcoeur said. She picked up one of the bottles and wrinkling her nose, she examined the label. "What is this vintage called? Gylinian Seedless Swill?"

* * * * * *

Gabriel paced back and forth outside of the Grand Rectory. Bishop Malachi had been meeting with the council for three hours, but Gabriel needed to find out what had happened to his family. Three hours, three days, or three years, it didn't matter. He would stay here until he spoke to Malachi.

Eleenia had gone to the infirmary to help see to Liam Branvold. From the small amount Gabriel had heard, Liam had hardly spoken a word since he arrived. The other children were taken to the nunnery, where they would be looked after until other kinsmen could be found, or in the worst cases, they could be taken to the church's orphanage.

The warmth of the sun did little to comfort Gabriel as he continued to pace. His stomach was still in knots, and he felt as cold as the grave. Frustrated, he wrapped his green-lined blue cloak around him as he sat down on the ledge of the stone fountain. Gabriel sighed as he waited. His thoughts turned towards his brother Alexander. During his first two years of his training, Alexander had been a student at the University. While a Defender initiate had little free time, Gabriel had seen his brother as often as he could. They hadn't really been close growing up. The only sibling Gabriel had ever been close to was Eleenia. Still, it was good to get to know Alexander as a brother, rather than the bully he had been when they were younger. By the time Alexander had graduated, Gabriel had finally been able to top him physically in both wrestling and with the sword. That was one of the benefits of the grueling training regimen Holy Defenders had to endure.

Looking to the ground, Gabriel noticed the shadow of the upturned angel's hands of the fountain. Above them, a rainbow stretched between the shadow's palms, created by the sunlight refracting through the spray of water. Was God trying to comfort him? It must be so. Gabriel bowed his head and began to pray. He felt a little guilty, as since his elevation to high initiate he had been neglecting his prayer life. 'A Defender without prayer is like a jouster without armor,' Father Phillip would say in his spirituality class. Truth was, though, Gabriel had been angry with God for the death of his family and for the extra burden of Eleenia's safety, which now he felt fell on his shoulders. Protecting her would be impossible, as a man cannot serve two masters. This fact had been tearing him apart. His prayers turned to Eleenia, that God would give her a good husband who would protect her, care for her, and be able to give her the life she deserved.

Gabriel was brought out of his prayers by the black oak double doors of the Grand Rectory opening. Quickly ending his prayer and making the sign of the cross, he stood up, anxious for Bishop Malachi's emergence.

The Bishop turned to the Templar Majoris, who was escorting him out. "And convey my thanks to The High Praetorian for sending the redcloaks as an escort."

"Of course, Your Grace," Brother Carmen said.

The Bishop leaned heavily against his walking staff as he made his way to the courtyard. Two Holy Defenders ceremonially accompanied him.

Malachi noticed a figure standing in front of the fountain. Raising his hand to shield him from the late afternoon sun, he squinted to see who it was. The ends of his moustache turned upward in a smile as he recognized Gabriel.

"You two gentlemen are dismissed. I must have a word with this initiate."

The two Defenders bowed. "Yes, Your Grace," they said. Turning, they headed off towards the Defenders' garrison.

Gabriel stood and watched as the Bishop made his way towards the fountain. He clenched his fists as he tried to fight back tears. The best he could do was to limit his show of emotion to a quivering of his bottom lip.

Malachi, upon reaching him, scooped Gabriel up in a hard, one-armed embrace. "Oh, my lad, I'm so sorry," he said, still leaning upon his walking staff.

Gabriel returned the embrace. Swallowing his emotions, he disengaged himself. "My apologies, Your Grace, for creating a spectacle, hounding you like some child."

"Nonsense," Malachi said. He walked around Gabriel and sat his ample bottom upon the fountain ledge. "Here, Gabriel, sit down. You must have many questions, and I shall do my best to answer them."

Gabriel sat beside the Bishop, hands folded on his lap. "Your Grace, what happened to David? Why didn't he come with you and the rest of the children?"

"David wanted to stay with your father and brother," Malachi said, looking towards the ground. "We tried to get him to come with us, but he got away. Alas, barring a miracle from on high, I am afraid he met the same fate as they did."

"The message from Lystra said he was buried with the rest of my family," Gabriel said, trying his best to keep his voice from wavering. "But I have had this feeling that he was still alive! I have had dreams of him. Vivid dreams, with us fighting side by side. I don't know if they are visions from the Holy Spirit or just my own imaginative hopes."

Malachi nodded understandingly.

"Your Grace, was it truly undead what attacked at the wedding?"

The bishop glanced back and forth to make sure no one was listening. "Gabriel, I am not supposed to speak of it, but so you won't spend your nights wondering, I shall tell you. However, this is for your ears and your ears only. Not even your sister may be told."

Gabriel nodded. "I promise I shall take it to my grave."

"It was indeed the work of the living dead."

Gabriel inhaled sharply. His skin felt like it was going to crawl off of his flesh. "But how is such a thing possible?"

The bishop shrugged. "The evil one has many weapons, some spiritual, some corporeal. He grants his servants horrific powers to animate the dead and manipulate the energies of this world." Malachi put his hand on the high initiate's shoulder. "But fear not, my son. With faith and with God as our ally, we can always overcome. The Holy Spirit dwells within us, and greater is He than is in the world."

Several deacons walked past the fountain. Their voices were low in muffled conversation.

Malachi waited until they passed. "I am afraid I have said too much already, my son. I shall take my leave." The portly bishop braced himself against his walking staff and grunted as he raised himself to his feet. "I imagine your sister is tending to young Liam. I believe I shall pay them a visit."

Gabriel nodded. He stood and grasped the bishop's hand. "Thank you, Your Grace."

The bishop smiled and nodded. Patting Gabriel on the shoulder, he made his way to the infirmary.

* * * * * *

"I can't believe it! Fifteen hundred gold profit!" Karinga was practically jumping in the street as the four men made their way back to the docks district. "David, any doubts I had are now gone! You truly are the best Yeoman I've ever had the pleasure of knowing." The captain put his arm around the young Yeoman.

David shook his head. "Fourteen hundred eighty profit, Captain. She won't be paying for the two sample barrels."

"At least the one was only half full," said Fyke with a wry grin. "Damn that was good beer, right Edge?"

The large man nodded, keeping his trained eyes on the throngs of people crowding the dirt street.

"Plus," David said, "we barely broke even on the wine. Curse it! I should have known that anything coming out of a vineyard that far north would be fit for little more than gar."

Fyke looked taken aback. "Gar? That was high quality wine!"

Karinga slapped his first mate on the back. "I think ol' Corwyn spent too much time in the Ordures Blanches growing up! It done ruined his sniffer!" Karinga laughed raucously at his own joke. The other three couldn't help but join in. "David, after the deal you struck on the beer, I truly am not concerned about the wine. It was only twenty cases, and breaking even on such a small quantity is good enough."

A brown-haired, mustached figure stepped out of the crowd into the path of the joyful party. He wore a blue feathered hat with the left brim turned upward and a matching surcoat. A gold sash ran from his right shoulder to his waist, right above his ivory-handled rapier, telling of his high rank in the Sea Merchants' Guild. The man took his wooden pipe out of his mouth and blew the smoke through his nose. "Good day of trading, Captain Karinga?"

Karinga stopped dead in his tracks, his mood turning instantly sour. "Lads, are we near a privy trench or am I... Oh, bless my stars, it's Donegal!"

"Charming as always, Captain. And it's Commodore Donegal, if you please."

"Yes, yes, yes," Karinga said, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Whatever you say. Now if you will excuse us, we have business to attend to."

Edge protectively stepped in front of Karinga. "Let me break 'is face, Cap'n! He been a burr up yer arse for far too long."

Donegal smiled patronizingly. "Now now, Stockmore. No need to resort to violence. I'm just here to offer Captain Karinga another chance at membership in the guild. Think about it Captain, no more pestering. And I think we can even overlook those three men of ours you killed in New Portsmouth."

David took a step back, hiding behind Fyke.

"Fine," Karinga said. "I'll pay your ten gold."

"Ten? No, no, captain." Donegal put his pipe in his mouth and took a deep drag. "You see, when you were a mere errand runner for the merchants and nobility, you were barely making enough to keep your ship crewed. Ten gold was all we can expect of a piss-boy contractor. But now, you are trading in commodities, encroaching on guild territory. If you want to stay in business, you must join us."

Karinga rolled his eyes. "Get to the bottom line, you bag of wind! How much?"

Donegal regarded each member of the party one by one. "Hearing as you made a good haul today, I think a thousand gold will be enough to keep you in business."

David instinctively took a step back. Fyke's jaw dropped, and Edge grabbed the hilt of his cutlass.

"A thousand gold?" said Karinga incredulously, his face turning red. "That's bloody high seas robbery!"

Donegal smirked, folding his arms. "A thousand per month! Those are guild dues, not robbery. I'll take the first payment now. And since it is the 12th of Pentecost, I suppose I will be generous and collect your next payment on the 12th of Summerlight, rather than on the first."

Karinga stepped within arm's reach of the guildsman. He quickly snatched the pipe out of Donegal's mouth. "Here's what I think of your bloody guild dues!" With that, he broke the pipe in two, threw it on the ground, and crushed it beneath his heel. "You can tell Gaeceric to take his guild dues and batten them down his ol' hatch! What do you have to say about that?"

With gloved hand, Donegal wiped each side of his waxed mustache. "You disappoint me, Captain Karinga, but you do not surprise me. Very well then. I shall take my leave." With a slight bow of his head, Commodore Donegal stepped backwards, disappearing into the crowd.

Karinga stood with his fists on his hips shaking his head. "Gah, the nerve of that man!"

"Aye," said Fyke. "He's probably on his way to tell Gaceric right now."

"Ye shoulda let me gut'im, Cap'n!"

Karinga chuckled. "Edge, if you had, the entire guild would be on us like stink on a brothel."

The four of them stood quietly contemplating what possibly was to come. Karinga knew they hadn't seen the last of Donegal, but with more and more ships refusing to pay guild dues, they might get lucky and continue to slip through the cracks.

David decided to break the silence. "So what are we going to do, Captain?"

Karinga looked to David and smiled. "Don't worry, Tanner. We'll keep doing what we have been. We'll buy and sell commodities, earn gold on errands, and maybe frequent guild-run ports a bit less.

"Come on, lads. Lets get back to the ship. The Lord only knows what Dunkirk will do if Malcoeur's men try to take that shipment of beer away."

* * * * * *

Eleenia dabbed the cloth in some herb-scented water, wrung it out, and placed it across Liam Branvold's forehead. She was concerned for the fourteen-year-old boy, as he was said to have not spoken in a month. He ate, drank, slept, and took care of his bodily needs, but apart from that, he would just lie in bed staring off at something unseen.

Pulling her stool up next to his bed, Eleenia sat down and took his cold, clammy hand. Her own hands were becoming rough and dry from hours of working in the dish pits. "Liam, can you hear me?"

Liam turned his head slightly towards her and blinked several times. However, he did not speak.

Eleenia smiled. "Do you remember the time you and David were playing with my father's daggers? I remember you ran to my room and barged inside without even knocking. 'El! El! David cut himself!' Fortunately for you I was in a decent state of dress or the castle surgeons would have been stitching both of you up. You both begged me not to tell father. That was the first time I ever stitched up a person." El laughed. "I thought you were going to cry harder than David when I first pushed the needle through his skin."

The corners of Liam's mouth turned upwards almost imperceivably.

"Remember over Christmas when the three of us caught Alexander and Mareth kissing in your father's stables? I think your sister yanked out an entire handful of my hair when we threw the water bladders on them!" she said, rubbing her head. "Although I think you and David received worse from Alexander when he carried you both around the grounds by your smallclothes. But we sure got them back for that, didn't we?

"Or the time we covered ourselves with chimney soot and startled poor Angus McCracken? That was a stupid thing for us to do, him being a master swordsman and all."

Liam's smile had become more defined.

"How about the time we told Gabriel that we dropped father's signet ring into the manure pit and he..."

"Eleenia Ki Kalendeen!" a voice yelled from across the room.

Liam's smile faded as he focused his gaze back into the nothingness above him.

Another of the Bishop's aides, Brother Krennan stood in the doorway with his arms folded in front of him. "Mistress Wetherbee has informed me that you missed your work hours today."

El turned to avoid his gaze. "My apologies, Brother. Liam was brought into the infirmary and I thought..."

"You thought?" he said indignantly, walking into the room towards them. "You are to think in regards to your academic pursuits, not to your punitive measures! That will be another three unpaid work hours per week for the next year! Now go, or I shall make it five!"

Krennan was so close to her El could smell the alcohol upon his breath. "But I spoke to Mistress Wetherbee and..."

The Bishop's aide seized her arm and clamped his grip down, causing El to wince. "Do not talk back to me, child. You are a commoner now, and therefore have..."

"Brother Krennan, may I speak to you a moment?" a voice said softly but sternly.

Krennan turned to see Mother Superior standing at the door he had just entered. "One moment, Reverend Mother." He turned back to Eleenia, having never loosened his grip. "If you continue to..."

"Brother Krennan, I truly must speak to you this instant about a matter of great importance." The nun's voice was still as gentle as a summer breeze.

"Half a moment!" he said agitatedly.

"Please do not take that tone with me, Brother. I must speak to you immediately." Although she spoke more forcefully, Mother Superior did not raise her voice.

Krennan sighed and abruptly let go of Eleenia's arm. "What is so important that it could not wait?" he said indignantly.

"In the hallway, please." The nun turned and glided out of the room. The Bishop's aide followed her, anxious to get the conversation over with so he could go back to tormenting the young student.

Eleenia rubbed her arm. Deep red was beginning to show where the Deacon had grabbed hold of her, and she was sure bruises would form. That could be a very bad occurrence, as Gabriel would demand to know how they came to be. When she told him that Brother Krennan grabbed and twisted her arm... Shaking her head, she tried to put the thought of what her brother might do out of her mind.

The voices in the hallway were audible, but she couldn't make out what they were saying. They had risen in intensity from when they first started.

El turned her attention back to Liam. She took the rag off of his head and soaked it anew in the scented healing mixture. Wringing it out, she returned it to his forehead. Liam was still staring at the ceiling, eyes fixed upon nothing.

Brother Krennan's voice rose to a yell, but was cut short by the smack of wood against flesh, followed by a yelp.

"I don't care for your tone, Brother." Mother Superior said.

The contrite tone of Krennan's voice that followed made Eleenia chuckle. Soon, the voices stopped, and Mother Superior came back into the room.

"Eleenia, the judicial board has found the charges brought against you to be false. All of the hours you have worked to date shall be applied to your next semesters' room and board."

Eleenia could barely contain herself. Running over, she hugged the nun. "Oh, thank you, Reverend Mother! Thank you!" Embarrassed, she composed herself.

Mother Superior smiled and patted her on the head. "Now, let us see how young Liam is doing."

The two walked to the side of his bed. Mother Superior sat upon the side, next to him. "Liam?" she said.

Liam's eyes moved to focus upon the nun. He blinked several times as tears welled up in his eyes. "Aunt Ann," he said softly.

She took the rag off of his forehead and gently dabbed at the tears as the young boy wept. "You are safe now, Liam. Rest."

"It was so terrible, Aunt Ann," he said. "All the blood, and the monsters... they were everywhere."

"I know, nephew. I know. Rest."

Eleenia sat upon her stool. "Aunt Ann? Reverend Mother, you are related to Liam?"

Mother Superior smiled. "Yes, I am. Zareth Branvold was my elder brother. I was born Ann Branvold." She turned her attention back to Liam. The constant tension that had been present on his brow began to dissipate.

Eleenia shook herself out of her disbelief. It all made sense now, why Mother Superior had taken such a strong interest in her since the tragedy that had befallen both of their families. Also why she had been so insistent upon ridding her of her work hours.

"Reverend Mother, you mentioned a debt you owed my father. What was it?"

Liam pulled himself up to his elbows and sat up in his bed, looking to his aunt.

"When I was, oh, about two years younger than Liam, we had traveled to Lystra for Christmas. Since I was the only girl, and didn't have any friends in their household, your father would take pity on me and invite me along with him, Zareth, and Rameus on their adventures. Zareth and Rameus would go to great lengths to tease me. 'Don't pick on Ann,' Alexander would say, 'she's the baby.' He would always watch out for me. Anyway, on that Christmas evening when I was twelve, it had been warm throughout the months of Sanctusaal and most of Nativitas. The ice that formed over the eastern fork of the Vissik was none too strong. Still, foolish girl that I was, I wanted to prove to them that I was as brave as any boy."

"Did you fall through the ice?" Liam asked.

"Yes, I did. Rameus and Zareth began to panic, but Alexander crawled out onto the ice on his stomach to try to rescue me. When he reached me, my limbs had gone numb, and I began to sink into the river. But God bless him, he somehow managed to pull me out and bring me back to shore."

Eleenia began to laugh with a joy that was contagious, as she was soon joined by the other two.

"Is that Liam I hear laughing?"

The three looked to the infirmary doorway to see Bishop Malachi entering the room.

"He only needed some family, Your Grace," said Mother Superior.

The Bishop smiled warmly. "Thank you, Reverend Mother, for seeing to him. My heart was troubled for young Liam since our journey to Avonshire began. Since you seem to have things well in hand, I believe I shall retire. It has been a trying month and an exhausting day." The Bishop bowed his head, and shuffled out of the room.

The three went back to their reminiscing. For the first time since the attack, both Liam and Eleenia caught a glimpse of the happiness and contentment of their families that was undeservedly ripped from their lives.

* * * * * *

The group made their way through the crowded streets of Port Cauldwell, bodies practically pressing against them with every step. The altercation with Commodore Donegal had soured everyone's mood, and the constant bumping had them hanging onto their valuables, further agitating the crew.

David was more than a little bit nervous and couldn't wait to be safely back onboard the Waverunner. Ever since the wedding tragedy, crowds always bothered David. Little but the open sea calmed his nerves these days. Even his cabin gave him little respite from the images of that horrible day. At night, he would lie awake, terrified to go to sleep, as sleeping meant dreaming. While his nightmares had grown fewer and less frequent, they were still terrible when they came upon him.

He had taken to strolling the deck at night, more often than not ending up in his usual place near the jib boom. There he found peace. Standing with the salt spray on his face, the roar of the ocean, and the splashes of the keel as the Waverunner cut its way thought the dark waters felt like standing on the edge of eternity. Nothing could be seen ahead or below, yet the sounds and spray would assault his senses. Standing on the edge of eternity meant that David wasn't standing on the edge of madness. Fyke was right. There was nothing like the sea to chase away the demons of one's past.

The loud and nasally call of a pickle vendor three feet from David's ear brought him out of his thoughts. The crowd was becoming thinner. Odd, as there were usually more people near the docks, especially this time of day. David shrugged it off. He had never been in Port Cauldwell before, so maybe things were different here.

Suddenly, an image from his past, one that he had tried to bury, thrust itself into the present as David's glance caught the telltale brown toothed sneer of one of Gaeceric's men. Pembroke, the only surviving member of the group that had attacked him a month ago in New Portsmouth was stalking towards him, dagger drawn!

David froze in place as his feet declined to move and his lungs refused to release their breath in a yell that would alert the rest of the crew. His mind tried to force his hand to draw his own dagger, but his will could not break through the paralyzing fear.

Pem swung his dagger in a wide clumsy backhanded arc. David instinctively brought his arms up, knocking the dagger off course from his throat, causing it to cut him from his cheek to above his right eye.

If his will could not break through the power of fear, his pain certainly could. David screamed as he clutched his face, blood pumping from the open wound. The rest of the group turned around, just as they were set upon by more of Gaceric's men.

Weapons came out as they faced their attackers, and Edge immediately dropped one of the assailants. David had no time to watch the others. Pem grabbed him by the shirt collar and raised his dagger for another swing.

David quickly bit down hard on Pem's hand, sinking his teeth into the meat between his attacker's thumb and index finger. He then kicked him hard in the groin, causing Pem to release his grip as he yelped in pain. Quickly, David dove to the ground, crawling into the growing crowd that was enthralled with the spectacle. He darted under the pickle vendor's cart as Pem retrieved his dropped dagger and began to scan the crowd.

"Twice in me jewels? You'll die for that!" Pem screamed. He scanned the ground, finding David's telltale blood, and tried to push his way through the people who had closed around the path David had taken.

David drew his dagger from his boot as he crouched under the pickle cart. His eyes were stinging from the blood that continued to flow. Bending to the side, he looked out from under the cart. His heart skipped a beat as he saw Pem making his way to the cart.

"Where are you, you bastard? I'm gonna..."

Pem's voice cut short. He dropped to his knees, and then fell forward in front of the cart. David yelled as Pem's face dropped to the ground staring right at him in his hiding place. However, Pem only gurgled as blood poured out over his rotting brown teeth. David crouched down further and saw a knife sprouting from his enemy's back.

"David! David!" Karinga's panicking voice cried out over the din of the crowd. "Lad, where are you?!? David!!!"

David weakly reached his bloodied hand out from under his hiding place. Karinga ran over and flipped the cart over backwards, sending pickles flying into the crowd. He scooped David up off of the ground, raising him to his feet.

"Come on, let's get you to Quenton," Karinga said, his voice cracking.

Edge and Fyke, both bleeding from various small wounds, stepped over several bodies to Karinga and David.

"Come on, Captain," Fyke said. "The watch is on their way and..." Fyke paused as he saw the wound on David's face. "Oh, lad! Are you alright?"

"Of course he's not alright!" Karinga bellowed. "We need to get him back to the ship now!"

Fyke nodded and took the sobbing Yeoman's right arm as Karinga took his left. They followed Edge as he forcibly parted the crowd, leaving the five attackers dead or dying in the street.

* * * * * *

The men in the employ of Lady Malcoeur carried the barrels of dark beer off the ship one by one under Johan's constant urging for care towards the valuable cargo.

Karinga leaned on the starboard railing, watching the line of workers load the barrels onto several mule-pulled carts, wincing every time a scream pierced the air from below decks. Every cry of pain cut deeper into Karinga's heart than he thought possible. David was just a boy, a boy he had grown quite fond of, almost like a favorite nephew. He blamed himself for the wound across the Yeoman's face, one that would surely leave a nasty scar that he would carry with him until the end of his days.

The visit from the town watch had been routine. His explanation of how he and his crew were mugged, plus a handful of silvers, had satiated the guards. They warned Karinga to set sail as soon as possible before Gaeceric demanded an inquiry for the death of his men.

Another scream split the air as Quenton pushed another stitch through David's face below decks. Karinga thumped his fist on the rail as Dunkirk cautiously approached him.

"Captain," the hawk-nosed boatswain said, "We'll be ready to set sail with the tide in an hour. What shall our heading be?"

Karinga stared at him blankly. "I'm sorry, Dunkirk. With all that has been going on, I hadn't had a chance to think about it. What about replacement crew? How many did we lose this port?"

"Just two, Captain. We lost Georgie, of course, and Garth, one of the bilge men. No one else wants to leave after that payday. It's probably more than they are used to seeing in a year."

Karinga winced as David screamed anew. "Hm. Shouldn't take long to replace them."

"Aye, I've had twelve others offer their services. Seems word's gotten out about our new way of doing business." A rare smile crossed Dunkirk's sunken face.

"I guess we can afford a full crew now. Hire seven of them, the ones who look most sturdy. Have them report to Edge," Karinga said.

"Edge, Captain?"

"Yes. I want the entire crew to start training to fight. Better yet, get Edge up here."

David's screams had stopped. Karinga went back to watching the laborers load the large kegs onto the carts. How lucky they were in their simple lives, he thought, not having to put up with the likes of Gaeceric and his men. They could put in a hard day's work, no one's lives depending on them, collect their pay, and then go back home to their families and a hot cooked meal.

Karinga was brought out of his thoughts by Edge bounding up from below decks, still clutching a rag to his wounded left forearm.

"Bo'sun said ye wanted ta see me, Cap'n?"

"Edge," Karinga said after a pause, "We need to step up the training for the crew. Specifically, I want you to make sure David is the best fighter you've ever seen. I want that boy to have confidence, and I want the peace of mind knowing that the best Yeoman we've ever had won't be in any more danger than the rest of us if Gaeceric's cronies come calling again."

"Aye, Cap'n."

"Work them hard, Edge. Every last one of them."

Edge nodded and went back below deck. On the dock, Johan waved goodbye. It would be a long time indeed before Karinga and the Waverunner could return to Port Cauldwell.

"Mister Dunkirk," Karinga called out. "Set course for Port Cirill."

* * Four Years Later * *

The sea spray danced upon David's face as he leaned against the forward railing at his usual spot overlooking the jib boom. The water sparkled with the reflected light of the midday sun, and the sky had not a cloud to detract from the endless expanse of blue.

It had been another routine commodities run, although this time to the far south port city of Bord de la Mer in northeastern Gaul. There, he had purchased seven hundred bolts of fine silk that originated in either Byzantium or Greater Arabia. Fortunately, due to its cost, not many northern traders dealt in silk, as the risk was often too great. A successful pirate attack could financially ruin both a captain and his creditors, who were almost always needed when dealing with such a precious commodity. However, the Waverunner's funds were more than sufficient for such a purchase with the large sums of wealth the officers had accumulated over the past four years.

Another factor was the Sea Merchant's Guild, always trying to wring money out of members and downright extort money from independent operators, which they called illegal traders. They had continued their bullying tactics, and had become worse than any group of pirates since the Rain of Fire. With Gaeceric greasing the palms of the northern seafaring nations, guild ships had very little to worry about from any nation's laws. Most merchant ships gave the Pirate Isles, the current home of the guild, a wide berth.

The Waverunner had crossed paths with several guild ships since David had come aboard as Yeoman. Twice at sea the confrontations had erupted into swordplay. David fingered his scar that ran from his eye down to his jaw, given to him shortly after joining Karinga. That altercation had taught him a valuable lesson about being on guard. At a finger short of six feet, David, now eighteen, had grown into a fine young man. With Edge's constant training, he no longer feared to walk streets of any port alone. Using his fine cutlass plus his brass-knuckled dagger in his off hand, he had ended the career of several rogues who thought him an easy mark. His strikes were not overly powerful, but given his lean build and cordlike sinewy muscles, he struck frequently and with deadly accuracy.

David breathed in deeply, catching the salty mist. Corwyn was right, there was nothing better than the sea to purge the demons from the mind. His nightmares had dwindled to almost nothing. No one had ever recognized him, and as far as the world was concerned, David Ki Kalendeen was long dead and buried.

He occasionally wondered about Gabriel and Eleenia, but to contact them would mean exposing himself to whatever force had destroyed his family. They were safe enough in Avonshire, he reckoned, however he could never hide in such a life that the university and church would offer him, especially now that he had tasted the freedom and independence his current life had brought.

David jumped as he was startled by the appearance of Captain Karinga by his side.

"I need to tell Fyke where to set course. I'm guessing you want to sell this silk in New Portsmouth?" said Karinga.

"No, Jax. Somewhere in Decia, I think. Northpoint. That way we can pick up a shipment of timber and take it across to Gylina."

Karinga pursed his lips as he leaned against the railing next to David. He stood silent for a few moments, not wanting to question the decision of his Yeoman, whose reputation amongst traders had become infamous. Finally, his curiosity got the better of him. "Why not put into New Portsmouth? The Eddingtons would be sure to pay handsomely for most of the silk. Then we could pick up some iron and sell it at Port Cirrill."

David smiled at Karinga's question. It was good to see him start to think beyond his next trade. He had also picked up quite a few of David's negotiation techniques.
"Snakepox, Captain," David answered.

"What's those?"

"After the trade in Bord de la Mer, I spoke to Monsieur Laffont at length about the happenings around the trade routes. Quite a number of people in New Portsmouth have acquired Snakepox this year. It happens during warm summers. The area near the sea will be set upon by a plague of snakes in the springtime. Several months later, Snakepox will appear. Nasty disease. It starts with tiny purple splotches on the skin. Blood blisters, really. People pop them and they go away, only to be replaced by two more. After a few weeks, they are covered in them. They lose interest in eating, take on a fever, and die. Disgusting. I have no desire to go there until it clears itself up." David couldn't help but shudder.

"So it eventually disappears?" Karinga asked.

David nodded. "Usually around mid-fall when it gets colder. The snakes will die off or go away, and the Snakepox will vanish.

Karinga wrinkled his nose. "I see. Yes, I am inclined to agree with you. Northpoint it is."

David turned back to the sea, catching sight of a shark's dorsal fin breaking the surface.

"Tanner," Karinga said uncomfortably. "How is it you have come to know so much about so many different subjects? I've never seen you so much as open a book as long as you've been part of my crew."

A bit of anxiety cramped in David's stomach, as it always did when asked about his past. "My father made sure I was well educated as I was growing up. My older brother was to take over his tanning shop, and he wanted me to attend the university in Avonshire." It was the same story he told others when they asked.

"Do you ever intend to fulfill your father's wishes?"

"Not on your life, Captain," David replied with a smile. "I love being part of the crew, seeing the world, and making more money in a month than my father made in a year. Go to Avonshire and sit around all my life arguing the finer nuances of Piranian's principles of morality with a group of stuffy narrow-minded popinjays? I would rather sleep naked on a pile of broken glass. No, education without application is pointless."

Karinga chuckled and patted David on the back. "There's a good lad.

"Oh, Corwyn tells me you've passed your eighteenth birthday a while back. Is that true?"

David nodded. "Yes sir, I did."

"Then I'll have to quit calling you lad soon, being on the doorstep of manhood and all."

David rubbed his scar again, not taking his gaze from the sea. "I think I passed that threshold a while ago, Captain."

"Aye, lad. That you have."

* * * * * *

The sharp pounding on the door cut its way through Gabriel's blissful slumber. He wished nothing more than to be embraced by the sweet darkness that sleep would bring, but alas, the villain outside his room was intent on foiling his plans.

Yesterday had been one of the most trying days he had endured over his seven years of training. While he was now considered a master with the sword, surpassing even most of his teachers, his skills in the realm of academics left a lot to be desired. However, with Eleenia's help, he had prepared himself, and yesterday he had passed the Test of Knowledge. One test was completed, and two more lay before him.

This day was his Test of Combat. He would fight the three initiates he had been training for the last two years, and while they were all top quality fighters, Gabriel had little doubt in his abilities. This would be the easiest of his three tests. Tomorrow would bring the Test of the Angelic Blade. A Holy Defender was expected to be strong in mind, body, and spirit, thus all three were rigorously tested.

Over the past several days, Gabriel had been neglecting his sleep, studying and being quizzed by Eleenia until the wee hours of the morning. El didn't mind, as she hardly stepped foot outside of the Great Library these days and her thirst for knowledge had grown unquenchable. Gabriel joked that he would dress her up like him and have her take the Test of Knowledge for him.

Truth be told, Eleenia would have had no problems. Of all four of Lord Alexander Ki Kalendeen's children, she by far possessed the greatest intellect. Gabriel had never beaten her at a game that required strategy, and it was said that she had once even defeated their father at a game of King's Table, a feat he himself could never have hoped to accomplish.

The banging continued. "Brother Gabriel," the voice called through the heavy oaken door. "The midday meal is in a few moments, and then your test of combat!"

A wave of anxiety washed over him. He had overslept! Gabriel jumped out of bed and tried to rub the sleep from his eyes. "I'm awake! Thank you," he shouted back to the steward. Had he not been awakened, he would have slept right through his Test of Combat.

Walking over to the washbasin, he splashed some of the cold water on his face and grabbed his clothing. After today, only one obstacle remained to his becoming a full knight in the Order of the Holy Defenders. If only his father could see him, he thought.

* * * * * *

"It is indecent for a woman to be reading of wars, Mistress Ki Kalendeen!"

Eleenia looked up from her book, the orange and yellow light of two flanking lamps dancing upon her overly pale face. "Thank you for your most unsolicited opinion, Professor Skinner," she said, regarding the dour face of the crotchety older man across the table from her. "However, the strategy of battles is one of my interests, and Homer's Iliad contains some of the most..."

"I am well aware of The Iliad, you impertinent..." The professor stammered over his words as Eleenia cocked her head to the side, staring at him with an amused smirk. He shook his finger at her, his frustration evident. "Your problem, young lady, is that you lack a sense of propriety! Spinsterhood is your future. Your poor mother and father are probably rolling over in their graves!"

"Nonsense, Professor. My father always encouraged me to pursue whatever held my interest, regardless of stuffy old traditions." She batted her eyelashes, mocking him.

"Preposterous!" he said. "Utterly preposterous! You are court trained, Mistress Ki Kalendeen! You should be spending your efforts trying to catch the eye of a noble or country lord, not spending your time in useless pursuits."

"Useless, Professor?"

"Of course!" Skinner said, placing his hands upon his lapels, attempting to look as scholarly as possible. "Matters of strategy are best left to men, as the male mind has a stronger grasp of abstract concepts."

Sensing the gauntlet had been dropped, Eleenia folded the corner of the page in the book to mark her place and stood. "Would you care to put that to the test, professor? A game of King's Table, perhaps? Or would a defeat be too much for your superior abstract mind?"

"Bah!" Skinner proclaimed. He reached down and took the book from in front of her. Eleenia tried to stop him, but he had the book out of her reach. "To even suggest such a thing is the height of absurdity! You mark my words! No man is interested in a bookish woman who doesn't know her place! The best you can hope for is that someone will take pity upon you and..."

"I don't need to get married to have self-worth, Skinner! And mind yourself for a change. I pray to God that someday I will have so little wrong with my life that I could go around pestering others about the speck in their eyes while ignoring the forest in my own!"

The professor dismissed her with a wave of his hand and walked away grumbling to himself, the book Eleenia had been reading under his arm.

Eleenia looked around the room, darkened by the closed drapes. The other two library patrons in this particular room were staring at her, uncomfortable at the spectacle they had witnessed.

Outside, the midday bells rang. Gabriel's Test of Combat would be in an hour. She was confident he would have no problems, in spite of how well he had trained his three charges over the past two years. Four years prior, he had struck his mentor when he was an initiate, but the only way for him to be struck would be out of his own carelessness.

Gabriel had asked her if she would be attending, but she had avoided giving him an answer. Today and tomorrow, she would be spending the afternoon with Janelle and Holle once her rounds in the infirmary were complete. While over the past few years he had stopped pestering her about her friendship with the two, he would still cast a disapproving glance her way when she mentioned a visit. He had been hurt by her not promising to be at his Test of Combat, but the truth of the matter was that after tomorrow, as a full Knight, he could be sent away on church matters and forever be out of her life. As her last remaining immediate family member, the thought pained her deeply. So deeply, she didn't want to be part of the ancient ceremonies that could tear them apart.

She sat back down on the hard bench as other thoughts crossed her mind. He could always fail the Test of the Angelic Blade. If that were the case, he would be exiled to Coldar's Spring for "penance," although none that failed the test ever returned to Avonshire.

None of the Holy Defenders were allowed to talk about the Test of the Angelic Blade, and not knowing what was involved burned away at her as any unsolved mystery did. Perhaps she could coax it out of Gabriel after he passed the test.

She blew out the two lamps she had put upon the table earlier. It was time for her to make her rounds.

* * * * * *

The Hellfire blade cleaved straight through the swamper's crude leather armor, biting viciously into the flesh beneath, through his shoulder and down into his chest cavity, puncturing his lung. The grimy man couldn't even let loose his death cry as his blood spewed downward to mingle with the filthy mire.

Sagaroth placed his boot against his opponent's gut and pushed him over backwards, dislodging his sword. The man landed with a splat.

All around, the sounds of swords striking swords rang out as the swamper raiding party was repelled. Another attacker, shoulder padding bright with crimson dye, lunged at the large general, leading with his rusted sword. Sagaroth cleaved the old blade at the hilt, grabbed the raider, and using his momentum, launched him into the air. The smaller man smashed against a tree, the sound of his backbone splintering echoing above the din of battle.

Upon seeing the death of their tribal leader, the other raiders disengaged and ran back towards the heart of the swamp. The Aragil soldiers took final swipes at their opponents as they raised a hearty cheer of victory.

Sagaroth sheathed his evil blade, disappointed at the lack of further opponents. Such raids were common along Aragil's western border. The tribal dwellers of the Devon Swamp often raided the border towns when starvation provoked them to desperation. Aragil's former monarch, King Tyral, had considered the slaughter of the swampers a necessary evil. Sagaroth considered it sport.

"Lord General," said a panting young soldier, trotting up to his side. "We managed to capture five of the raiders. What shall we do with them?"

The edges of Sagaroth's mustache turned upward. "Kill them one by one and place their heads upon pikes. That should discourage any more raids for a while."

A look of shock came upon the young soldier's face as he hesitated at the command. "Are you serious, Lord General?" he asked quizzically.

An armored gauntlet backhanded the soldier across the face, knocking out several teeth and sending him sprawling into the mud. "How dare you question my orders, boy!" He beckoned to two other soldiers who were tending the minor wounds of a few of their comrades. "You two, take him back to Daggermount and deliver him to Chancellor Dameus. I'll not be disrespected by my own men."

The two soldiers picked up the dazed young man by either arm and brought him to his feet. They quickly stripped him of his weapons and began to take off his armor when the young soldier came to his senses.

"Lord General!" he protested, "Please forgive me, sir! I meant no disrespect!" He tried to struggle to get free, but a knee to his newly unarmored gut by one of the soldiers on his flank silenced him, causing him to buckle over in pain.

"Enough out of you, boy. The General has spoken. You're as good as dead... or worse," said the soldier who had kneed him. The other began to snicker.

The young soldier's cries for forgiveness faded as they dragged him away to be put at the whim of the evil necromancer, causing Sagaroth to smirk. He didn't care one bit for Dameus, arrogant bastard that he was, and he was sure the feeling was mutual. However, giving him the soldier not only kept the other men of Aragil's army in line, it also would get Dameus out of the way for a time while he performed his vile experiments on the lad.

Dameus had become a minor annoyance. While the little weasel's ego had grown far beyond its merit with his being appointed Chancellor, his lust for knowledge kept him generally out of the way.

Sagaroth, on the other hand, had become a national icon, a living symbol of Aragil's might. Peasants would point and whisper with glee when Lord General Lexar Sagaroth graced their villages with his presence. Courtiers would bow and beg his pardon at his passing, often offering up their charms. King Dorian himself saw him as larger than life, and bards from the Devon Swamps to the Decian Sea would sing songs of his glory for decades to come.

Still, he wanted more.

While he could easily fill his days with adoration, and his nights with female company, he knew from experience that he would grow weary of it all. Sagaroth was a conqueror, and conquerors needed enemies. These pitiful swampers, while fulfilling his lust for battle and glory in the past, now paled in comparison to his battles in the east. Two noble families destroyed, three cities captured, and leagues of countryside battles had showed him the taste of true conquest.

Why had King Dorian stopped? Elgannan's southern border was defenseless, and her forces severely weakened from the years of warfare. They could have marched northward, razing Port Cirill and Avonshire, then pushing into Caledonia, also weakened. Drive them all into the Highland Mountains, he had suggested to the king. His advice had met with condescending laughter from Dameus, followed by a patronizing series of sarcastic questions and remarks. The fool. He would die for that one day.

The screams of the swamper pulled Sagaroth out of his thoughts. His soldiers, trying to follow his example, were showing no mercy to the terrified tribals. The other four raiders watched in horror as their kinsman was tied down to a makeshift chopping block.

Sagaroth turned away and looked back into the swamps. While an execution would have filled him with vile pleasure in the past, it now provoked no feelings from him whatsoever.

No, there had to be more.

* * * * * *

Gabriel stood in full battle armor in the Defender's Courtyard, shield and wooden sword in hand. It was time for his Test of Combat. Facing him were the three initiates he had been training for the last two years. The one standing on the left, Brother James, was by far the most skilled of the three. He was raised as nobility, his father being Lord Lancaster of Gillingham. The one in the center, Brother Samuel, could also be a problem for him. While Brother Samuel wasn't quite as skilled as Brother James, he was the only left-handed one of the lot. On the right was Brother Cornelius. He was by far the most rash, in spite of Gabriel's best attempts to mollify his attacks during their training.

"Brother Gabriel," said Father Alexis, "You must defeat the three before you in a timely manner. Your skills in combat will be tested, as also will your skill as an instructor. Initiates, are you prepared?"

"Yes, Father Alexis," they all answered in unison.

"Brother Gabriel, are you prepared?"

Gabriel turned his armored head from side to side and peered about the courtyard for Eleenia. Her absence filled him with sadness. In spite of his pressing for a reason, she remained silent about her motivation for missing his Test of Combat; the only of the three tests outsiders were permitted to attend. However, he was heartened by the presence of Brothers Tobias, Jonathan, and Demetrius, his former mentor and two classmates respectively. Liam Branvold was also present, although standing away from the others.

"Brother Gabriel, are you prepared?" repeated the well-muscled priest.

Gabriel snapped his attention back to the matters at hand. "Yes, Father Alexis," he replied.

"I suggest you focus yourself. Your future in the order depends upon this test."

"I am ready, Father Alexis," Gabriel replied.

"Good. Begin!" Father Alexis jumped back out of the way of the four combatants.

Gabriel quickly moved to his right as the three initiates tried to surround him, placing Cornelius between him and the two more dangerous opponents.

Predictably, Cornelius charged.

Gabriel dodged further to the right, as quickly as his armored body would permit. He swung in with a low back swing, attempting to take Cornelius out of the battle quickly. However, his wooden sword was blocked with the initiate's shield. He barely had enough time to get his own shield up to deflect the counterstrike.

Cornelius pressed him hard, driving him back several steps, causing Gabriel to concentrate strictly on defense. He quickly took note of the positions of his other two opponents, who were holding their ground behind their more rash teammate, hoping Cornelius would tire their mentor out.

Amidst the vicious but straightforward blows, Gabriel feigned a high attack. As Cornelius raised his shield and wooden sword to protect himself from the supposed attack, Gabriel kicked him in the side of his calf muscle. Cornelius immediately lowered his guard to protect his legs and Gabriel tapped him on the side of his head with the flat of his wooden sword.

"Brother Cornelius," Father Alexis called out, "You are dead. Please lie still for the remainder of the fight."

Gabriel moved back to his left, leaving his fallen foe out of his way. It was difficult to move as freely as he liked with the extra weight of full plate armor, and he was beginning to feel the first twinges of fatigue.

James and Samuel moved in as one, both holding their swords to their outside and keeping their shields locked in front of them. In doing so, they protected one another's flanks; an advantage two fighters with opposing sword arms could capitalize upon. Once they were within reach, their attacks became a blur.

Gabriel managed to deflect their blows, although not without difficulty. It occurred to him that he might have trained his charges too well. With James trying his best to get around his shield, Samuel could alternate between offense and defense when Gabriel was able to attempt a strike. As he took steps back, the two initiates pressed in.

The stalemate continued for several minutes. Gabriel's breathing started to become labored in the hot air of his armored helmet. The muscles of his shield arm were beginning to cramp, but still, James and Samuel continued their patient attacks, not meant to end the fight, but to tire him. They knew he couldn't hold out much longer.

Gabriel stepped back with his left foot one more time, then pulled his shield back and swung it in James' direction. The swing caught the initiate off guard, and he stumbled backwards. Seizing the advantage, Gabriel barreled forward into Samuel, their shield clashing. He swung his sword around in a back swing, but James had recovered and blocked it. The seemingly desperate attack had been deflected, however Gabriel had managed to force himself between the two initiates. They now faced him with their sword arms on the inside.

Their attacks and lunges had little chance of getting through Gabriel's defenses now, as their arms got in the way of the other's strikes. Gabriel stepped quickly to Samuel's side, and forcing his shield up with his own, brought his sword in on the initiate's ribs. Before Father Alexis could call the strike, Gabriel shoved Samuel into James and followed through with a thrust that caught the final initiate in the solar plexus.

Father Alexis clapped his hands. "Brother Gabriel, you have achieved victory! And a fine fight it was. Well done. You receive full marks for both your swordsmanship and your training of your charges. Tomorrow at sunset, report to the Tribunal room for the Test of the Angelic Blade."

Letting his sword and shield drop, Gabriel pulled off his helmet, gasping for air. He managed a beleaguered salute. "Yes, Father Alexis," he said through ragged breaths.

"Brothers James and Samuel, you have both proven yourselves in your duties. You are hereby both advanced to the rank of high initiate."

A relieved smile crossed their faces as they panted for breath. "Yes, Father Alexis," they said, saluting.

"Brother Cornelius," Father Alexis said as Cornelius was dusting the dirt from his white tunic.

The initiate snapped to attention.

"While your display of swordsmanship was impressive for your rank, you must learn temperance. You shall spend the next month doing so. Report to the Master at Arms at once for your new assignment."

"Yes, Father Alexis," the dejected initiate said with his salute.

"Brothers James and Samuel, you are excused from your duties until the Sabbath. Well done, gentlemen.

"Now, if you will excuse me, I have other duties to attend to." Father Alexis turned and headed off across the muddy courtyard towards the cathedral.

Samuel smiled and clapped his mentor on the shoulder. "Congratulations, Brother Gabriel. That victory was well earned."

"Indeed," said James, rubbing his chest.

A young junker approached the group and began collecting the weapons.

"You two are also due congratulations," said Gabriel, handing his wooden sword and shield to the junker. "I remember when I was promoted to high initiate. What a relief!"

Cornelius plodded over to the group. "Brother Gabriel, thank you for your restraint in the test. I apologize for my rash actions. I made you look bad," he said as he began to sulk.

"Nonsense, Brother. You performed your duty adequately. The only one your rashness reflects on is yourself." Gabriel began to remove his breastplate. "Samuel, would you lend me some assistance?"

"Of course," Samuel said, moving to unfasten the armor buckles.

Tobias, Jonathan, and Demetrius joined the group.

"That was quite impressive, gentlemen," said Tobias with a proud, beaming smile. "I'm thankful I didn't have to fight you three in my test of combat."

Demetrius gasped in feigned shock. "What are you on about, Brother Tobias? We worked our jewels off for you and worked you over something awful!"

Jonathan began to snicker.

"Don't let him fool you, initiates. I was pitted against these three here," Tobias said, pointing in turn to his three former charges. "Brother Gabriel here actually struck me in the leg before I finished him off."

"Struck your mentor?" Cornelius asked. "That must have been quite the feat! I don't feel so bad now."

"You shouldn't," said Tobias. "Brother Gabriel is one of the finest swordsmen in the order. You did well to hold your own against him for so long. And what was your extension as low initiate? A month? Jonathan and Demetrius here were given three months."

"Don't remind us," said Jonathan, recalling the extra privy cleaning duties.

Gabriel finished removing his leggings, the last remnants of his battle gear. Two more junkers collected the pieces of armor and dragged them off towards the armory.

"Your praise is too kind, Brother Tobias," Gabriel said.

"Nonsense. I may have bested you four years ago, but I wouldn't want to fight you now with anything less than the Angelic Blade itself in my hands."

"Speaking of which," interjected Jonathan, "we three have to take the test tomorrow. I think I'll head off to confession before spending the afternoon in meditation."

"Aye, I had better go, too," stated Demetrius. "It'd be a shame to throw away seven years of hard work only to be sent off to Coldar's Springs."

Gabriel nodded. "I should join you. Although I'll be along a bit later," he said, looking over to Liam Branvold, standing by himself, staring blankly at the group.

Gabriel left the group to approach the boy. Liam had spent the last four years at the university studying Law and Administration at his aunt's insistence. That was the area of study all young men who were one day to rule were assigned. Liam hadn't seen any reason to do so, but Mother Superior often told him that he was now the rightful Lord of Kheog.

Liam, while leaving behind his catatonic state that he had arrived in, was still tormented by the events at castle Ki Kalendeen. He was still sullen, and had an air of depression about him that nothing could penetrate. Rarely smiling, Liam merely lived day to day, eating, sleeping, studying, and going to class, but not interacting with anyone unless forced to.

This current condition cut a stark contrast with the Liam Branvold that he remembered, charging through the castles with David, playing at war games, and conspiring with Eleenia to make Gabriel look the fool. What he wouldn't give to have that Liam back.

"Congratulations, Gabriel," Liam said as Gabriel approached him. "You shall be a knight of quality and a credit to the order, I am sure." The slightest suggestion of a smile briefly crossed Liam's lips.

"Come over and join us," Gabriel said, motioning over to Tobias and the remaining initiates. "You are always welcome among my friends. As far as I am concerned, you are family."

Liam looked away and dismissed the notion with a wave of his hand. "No, I have very little to say to them. I am not of their world, and if I were to speak they would show no interest."

"Oh, Liam, that isn't true. But I won't press the matter. I want to give you my most sincere thanks for attending my Test of Combat. It means more to me than you know. I only wish..." Gabriel left the thought unsaid.

"She is afraid she is going to lose you soon. Don't take it to heart, my friend. What El does, she does to protect herself, not to hurt you." Liam patted him on the shoulder. "You are the only family she has left, with Rameus being assigned to Crystal Falls."

"She also has you."

Liam uncharacteristically laughed outright. "You are too kind, Gabriel. But I am not family. Our fathers were best friends. I love El like a sister, but love and friendship do not a family make."

"We shall have to agree to disagree on that point," said Gabriel. "It is good to see you, Liam. I wish you had come around more in the past few years. Now, if I may take my leave, I must spend the rest of the day in prayer."

"May God be with you in your Test of the Angelic Blade. The next time I see you, may I behold a Knight," he said, showing an emotionless smile.

Gabriel watched him turn and leave, his heart aching for the stranger that Liam had become.

* * * * * *

Eleenia poured the tea into Janelle's cup.

"I think you'll enjoy this blend. The merchant said it was brought all the way from Cathay."

Janelle placed a honey dipper into her tea and stirred it around. She took a slurping sip of the hot liquid. "Hm! Quite good," she said. "How much did he charge you for it?"

"A full bag for four coppers," Eleenia said, replacing the teapot on the serving tray.

"Only four coppers? Did he pinch the bag or mix in some oak leaves?"

"No, I watched him measure it out. And does it taste of oak leaves?" El asked.

Janelle took another slurping sip of the brew. "No, I can't say that it does. But how did you get him to sell it so low?"

El sipped from her own cup and relished the earthy taste. "My father had us trained in negotiations by Master Cohen himself. You just have to know what to look for. First off, it is summer, and not many people buy tea in the summer. It was also late afternoon, and the tea merchant was hawking very loudly, which indicated he had had a slow day. He was selling outside of a tavern, and the smell of the food had..." El noticed that Janelle's eyes had begun to glaze over. "It's not important, I suppose."

Inhaling the aroma of the tea deeply, El sat back in her chair.

Janelle had maintained her family's house well since her brother and father left on their most recent campaign two years earlier after a month-long leave. With the extra money Janelle had earned training Eleenia while she could still afford the lessons, plus the ample coinage her brother Felix had left her, she had transformed the sparsely furnished dwelling into a respectable home.

The two friends sat in silence for several moments, drinking their cooling tea.

Janelle decided to break the silence. "Gabriel most likely would have completed his Test of Combat by now."

El sat her teacup down on the saucer with a clank. "I don't want to talk about it."

"You shouldn't let yourself get so ruffled, El. I don't think you have anything to worry about."

"How do you mean?"

"When I was over at the betting parlor the other day, Gabriel was showing less than even money on becoming a knight. A poor bet indeed. The best odds in the whole house were on his failing one of his tests. No one was foolish enough to throw their coin away on that wager," Janelle said with a wry smirk.

"People are betting on the Holy Defender initiates?" El asked incredulously.

Janelle shrugged. "Of course. With no movement on either side of the war in years, plus the last three seasons of plentiful crops, the people have a lot of time on their hands. Not much else is happening, and the goings on in the church are always a source of drama."

"You didn't wager on him, did you?"

"Of course not. Not worth betting on him making it, and knowing the buffoon I wouldn't dream of wagering against him." Janelle raised her teacup to her lips. "Although if the Archbishop kicks by the end of Summerlight I'll make a few golds," she said under her breath.

"Oh, Janelle, you didn't!" exclaimed Eleenia.

"It's not as if I'm causing him to die, El," she said defensively. "He hasn't left his bed since the end of Frostwane!"

El shook her head in mild repugnance. "Gambling on a clergyman's death. Indeed."

Janelle rolled her eyes. "Please. You are beginning to sound like your brother. It's bad enough that I'll have to listen to him pontificate for the next several decades. I don't need two moralistic busybodies in my life."

El stopped and glanced towards her friend. "What do you mean? You believe he is going to stay in Avonshire?"

"Of course," Janelle said. "Everyone is also talking about his three charges and how after only two years their swordsmanship has become astounding. The consensus opinion is that 'Brother Gabriel' will be given the task of training high initiates or even full knights! The Templar Majoris was overheard stating those exact plans. The church would be foolish to send him off somewhere.

"And you know how much it pains me to say this about that popinjay, so you can rest assured that it is the truth."

El smiled. "Thank you. I truly needed to hear that."

Janelle sat back on her comfy chair, pulling her legs up under her. A clap of thunder echoed in the distance as rain began to lightly tap upon the roof.

"It is good to see you out of the library, El," Janelle said, staring into her teacup while circling her finger around its edge. "Here it is the beginning of Summerlight, and you are so pale I can almost see your guts if you turn against the light."

Eleenia let out an exasperated sigh. "Seems I'm not the only one who sounds like Gabriel."

"Please. Don't insult me."

* * * * * *

The Waverunner had put into Northpoint an hour before sunrise, giving them the opportunity to see the great lighthouse beckon them from the ocean. The cool predawn sea breeze and the early morning silence had given the city a surreal feeling that had reminded David of the times he would watch the sleeping city of Lystra from Castle Ki Kalendeen's parapets before the first light of the new day brought his home town to life. It had given him butterflies in his stomach so badly that even the intense bartering session with one of the local dockside merchants failed to calm him.

David had sold him three hundred and forty-three bolts of the silk at almost three times what he had paid for them. He would have sold them all, but the merchant had no more money to spend. Large profits caused by overvaluing goods and decreased competition was the one thing the guild had done for the crew of the Waverunner. It almost made up for all of the aggravation and the occasional need to dump cargo when being pursued by a guild enforcer ship. Seeing the crimson flag with a black anchor upon it struck fear into the heart of independent sailors as sure as a red sky in the morning or a blood moon at night. One such ship, The Clearwater, had found its way into the Northpoint port this morning, but it was still being directed in by the time David had completed his transactions.

After the fight that had given him his scar, David hadn't ventured out alone from the Waverunner until his seventeenth birthday. Edge had pushed him farther than he thought he could achieve in swordsmanship, and now, there were very few he feared. Having become more streetwise being around Fyke and Captain Karinga, he now knew which areas of the port cities to avoid.

As per his newly adopted custom when celebrating a particularly profitable transaction, David had made his way to the finest inn that the city could boast after the crew began unloading the bolts of silk. In Northpoint, his customary venue was The Four Dragons' Inn. Master Bailey was a kindly older man, and he and his three sons kept the place as clean as possible. Master Bailey was reputed to have once been the assistant cook for the lord of Narbonne in Gaul, and the quality of his food lent credence to his story.

Midmorning, David had partaken of a particularly delectable dish of sautéed haddock in creamy cheese sauce over red potatoes. It was so good he had ordered seconds.

His time in port was often limited by the need to sell and procure goods, and he usually spent the day looking for commodities that were of high quality but being sold at bargain prices for one reason or another. He had meant to buy some timber today and take it up to Gylinia. However, with their next stop being Port Cauldwell to unload the rest of the silk, it wasn't necessary to purchase replacement cargo, as anything he could purchase here would also be available at their destination. The remaining three hundred fifty-seven bolts of cloth would be sold to Lady Malcoeur, and he would worry about restocking the Waverunner then.

David rested in the cushioned chair at his usual table, his back to the wall. It was still an hour before noon, and he was the only customer in the inn's dining room. He had several hours before the silk was unloaded, and the tide wasn't due in until early evening, so he decided to pass the rest of the morning sipping at creamed whiskey and admiring the Narbonnian paraphernalia that lined the dark wooden walls of the inn.

"Anything else for you, Master Tanner?" said the serving boy, the youngest of Bailey's sons.

David tilted his head back, draining the cup of creamed whiskey to the last drop. Smacking his lips, he handed the cup back to the boy. "Another one, please, William. Please make sure it's cold if possible." He had considered ordering some lamb to take back with him on board the ship, but it would be cold by the time he was hungry again. The thought of cold meat was even less appetizing than Doc's many faces of hardtack.

The boy returned with a full cup of the thick, light brown liquid that David had grown to treasure. David flipped him a silver, which the boy pocketed discreetly. David doubted it would find its way to the till.

Sunlight filled the inn as a man opened the door and stepped inside. David could not make out who the dark outline was until he closed the door behind him. The man stood for a few seconds, allowing his eyes to adjust to the candle-lit room.

The eye patch, bald head, and "X" shaped scar on his right cheek told David this was Captain Laudabacker, one of Gaeceric's guild enforcers. While not as vicious as Captains Ferndock, Frigmar, and Donegal, Laudabacker was still not someone to be trifled with.

David nonchalantly turned to the side lowering his gaze to his drink, hoping to not be noticed. He had his cutlass and knuckled-dagger with him, but he preferred not to get into a fight, as Gaeceric's enforcer captains rarely traveled alone. He let out a sigh of relief when Laudabacker sat down at the bar.

"What can I get you, Mi'lord?" asked William.

"A flagon of Ulsterian stout, boy," he said, placing four coppers on the bar.

William moved to one of the tapped barrels along the wall behind the bar.

"Not that one, lad, I want the Gillhurst stout."

"The Gillhurst stout is a silver per flagon, sir," he said sheepishly.

Laudabacker slammed his gloved fist down with a loud bang. "I said Gillhurst, damn it! And four coppers are what I'm going to pay.

William began to visibly shake. "Yes, Captain," he said, voice squeaking.

The bald man rubbed his nose and folded his arms in front of him as he waited for his drink. "I noticed the Waverunner in port. Been told Tanner would be here. Have you seen him?"

David cursed under his breath as young William pointed a finger, shaking with fear, his way. Instinctively, his left hand slipped into the knuckled grip of his dagger.

Laudabacker appeared confused for an instant, then followed William's hand to the dining area. His face lit up with a wide, toothy grin. "As I live and breathe! It IS David Tanner! And he's all by his self." He took his stout from the boy and walked towards David's table.

David put his right hand on the hilt of his cutlass and planted his feet under him, ready to spring into action.

The guildsman dismissed his action with a wave of his hand. "No need to be getting all testy, lad. I'm not here to fight you. I'm here to offer you a business proposition."

"Any business the guild has with the Waverunner needs to be addressed to Captain Karinga."

Laudabacker sat down at David's table and took a deep drink from his flagon. Setting it down, he wiped the heavy foam from his lips. "I'm not talking about the Waverunner, lad. I've a business proposition for you."

"Not interested," David said coldly. He relaxed, but remained alert.

"Don't be so hasty. Hear me out." Laudabacker settled himself in his chair. "Now, you've been making a lot of gold for Karinga and Fyke over the last four years. I don't hold that against you, boy. I know you're only trying to make a living." He took another drink from his cup, trying unsuccessfully to string out the conversation for dramatic effect.

David sighed.

"However," Laudabacker continued, "the chickens are coming home to roost, so to speak. Karinga is no longer a minor annoyance to Lord Gaeceric. With the destruction of the Cornwallace and subsequent capture of Black Jack Mulligan, and Black Company's fleet, Jaxom Karinga is now the most profitable non-guild paying independent that sails the Decian Sea. Gaeceric has offered us a hefty bounty on his head, and we are going to be actively looking for him at sea."

"So why tell me this?"

"Because I want you to leave the Waverunner and come work with me. I'll pay you double what Karinga pays you, and you can start today. I'm sailing to Port Cirill with the tide tonight on guild business, but I'd like to make some extra gold on the trip.

"Besides," Laudabacker said, dropping his tone, "it would be a shame for such a keen mind to go to waste."

David leaned in and spoke low, so only the guildsman could hear. "First off, Laudabacker, why don't you pay William the other six coppers you owe him for your drink. Second, the guild only has itself to thank for Karinga's success. If that bastard Kirby and his men hadn't attacked me on the streets of New Portsmouth, the Waverunner would still be running merchant errands and no threat to your sea trade monopoly, if it were in business at all.

"Now, as to your offer, I appreciate that you think so highly of me, but I am going to have to decline. After what your guildmates did to me that day, I would never work on board a bedeviled guild-cursed ship, nor one that even pays guild dues. However, if you ever decide to leave that pirate organization, keep an eye out for me."

Laudabacker rubbed his chin in contemplation. "Huh. Wouldn't that be something. Leave the guild, take you on my crew, and sail the Decian Sea making more gold than the pontiff himself." The one-eyed captain shook his head. "No, what am I talking about. The guild owns the Clearwater, and they would forget about Karinga all together until they strung us up." He cast his gaze downward in disappointment. "You make me sad, Master Tanner. So be it. I still suggest you leave Karinga's crew this very day." He stood up and drained the rest of this stout. "I like you, Tanner. I really do. And I am truly sorry for what will happen."

David's eyes followed Laudabacker as he walked out of the inn. He exhaled heavily as the door closed behind the captain, relaxing at having avoided the confrontation. David took drink of his creamed whiskey. It was probably a good idea to get back to the ship.

The door to the inn burst open, and two dirty, stinking men with clubs drawn walked into The Four Dragons' Inn. They peered into the relative darkness, and one pointed towards David.

There was no avoiding a fight now. David slowly drew his knuckled dagger, passing it to his right hand instead of wielding it in his usual left. This fight would be in close quarters, and Edge had always told him to use the longer blade in the off hand in such situations.

The men stormed over to David's table. David, however, leaned back in his chair, waiting for them to make the first move.

"Ey, Tanner," said the shorter of the two, "Ya want ta do this here or out back in th' alley?"

"Oh, looky here, little Davie likes creamed whiskey! 'Tis a woman's drink, ya fop!" said the taller of the two.

"Gentlemen, this is a nice establishment," David said, trying not to gag over the intense body odor they gave off. He picked up his cup and looked into it. "You're stinking up the place something awful. Why don't you leave before you make my cream curdle?"

"We gots ta break one a yer arms first, popinjay," the shorter one said.

David quickly splashed his drink into the shorter one's face. As he stood up, he flipped the table over with his off hand in the direction of the taller man.

As the shorter one was wiping the stinging liquid out of his eyes, David punched him full force in the jaw with his knuckled dagger. Several of the man's rotting teeth broke under the force of the blow to his jaw and he fell to the ground unconscious.

His remaining attacker swung his club in a wide arc. David stepped back, drawing his cutlass with his off hand. The filthy pirate followed up with a back swing, but David again stepped back out of his reach. As soon as the heavy club passed his head, David stepped in and made a quick flicking slash with his sword, its curved blade drawing blood from a superficial cut on the man's right thigh.

Startled at being cut, the man dropped his guard for an instant, which gave David enough time to punch him with his knuckled dagger on the bridge of his nose.

The man's head lolled back and forth as he dropped his club and staggered. David cocked back, readying another blow, but the man took two steps back and fell, hitting his arm off of a table on his way to the ground.

David sheathed his cutlass, but left his dagger in his hand as he made his way to the door.

William peeked his head out from behind the bar.

"It's alright, William. No furniture broken. Feel free to search them for coinage to pay for the cleanup and the delousing. Oh, and here," David said, flipping the silver to the boy. "That's for Laudabacker's stout."

The boy caught the coin, and then looked towards the two unconscious forms lying in the middle of the formerly pristine dining room. His nose wrinkled at the thought of having the touch them.

David opened the door, ready for another attack, but none came. It was fortunate, as David had to squint as the midday sun assaulted his unaccustomed eyes. He stepped out of the inn and held his hand up in front of his face, blocking as much of the light as he could.

"Ah, my boy, you're uninjured," said Captain Laudabacker.

David swung around and put his knife to the captain's throat. "Damn you to the deepest circle of hell, Laudabacker! I ought to poke your good eye out for sending your goons at me!" David spat in anger.

"Gaeceric's orders, not mine. Orders I urged him to reconsider," Laudabacker said, glancing down at David's dagger. "Consider yourself lucky to be unharmed."

"Consider your men lucky that I left them alive!"

"Oy! You there! Get that knife away from that man's throat before I throw you in the jail for a month!"

David glanced to his side, seeing three of the town watch, swords drawn. He slowly replaced his dagger in its sheath.

"Well, go on," said the head watchman. "Get out of here! Leave that man alone!"

David's anger began to recede as he walked back out into the street, heading down the slight grade of the hill that led down to the harbor.

"It would still be best for you to leave Karinga's ship, Tanner," Laudabacker called after him.

"And it would be best for you to leave the bloody guild!" David hollered back.

Captain Laudabacker shook his head as David made his way back to the docks. "What a waste."

* * * * * *

This was it. It was time for the Test of the Angelic Blade.

Gabriel sat on a wooden bench outside the Tribunal room, four servants and five other high initiates present. For seven years they had prepared themselves for this day. The outcome of today would mean either the honor of being a full Knight, or the disgrace of being exiled to Coldar's Springs. Gabriel wondered what it meant to serve the order in Coldar's Springs. No one ever spoke of it, or what ultimately became of The Fallen, as those who were rejected were so called.

"I wish they would get a move on," Demetrius said. "The anticipation is making me want to explode!"

"Two Knights have come in from Ulster," said Barnabas, another of the initiates soon to be tested.

As was the custom, when a Knight of the Order of the Holy Defenders returned to Avonshire after being out in the world, they immediately had to grasp the hilt of the Angelic Blade. While these subsequent testings were said to be less traumatic than an initiate's first, they were no less important, as a fallen Defender could act as an infiltrator for those who wished to do the order harm.

They had been waiting outside the Tribunal room for an hour. Their testing was to begin at sunset, however the previous group had gone long, then the council had been delayed further by the return of the other two Knights.

Gabriel shifted on the hard bench. He was thankful that this test required no ceremonial armor, as sitting upon the stiff wood was uncomfortable enough.

The waiting area outside of the Tribunal room was the same cold stone that most of the Hall of the Defenders' interiors seemed to consist of, with no decorations of any kind, save the four benches. The voices from the other side of the double doors were muffled, far beyond the ability of even the most determined spy to hear what was occurring on the other side.

The Order guarded its secrets surrounding the Angelic Blade as closely as an embezzling banker guarded his true ledger. Two guards were posted outside of the Tribunal room at all times when the council was in session. The chamber itself was almost soundproof, except for the doors, but they had been doubly padded in order to distort anything spoken inside.

Jonathan paced back and forth in front of Gabriel. He had been in constant prayer since his Test of Knowledge two days before, and practically also since his Test of Combat the day before that.

Time moved by slowly as the six initiates continued to wait. The small candle lanterns swung ever so slightly back and forth as the cool evening breeze blew through the many windows in the waiting area. It had started raining the day before, and the rain had continued until midday this day, giving the otherwise hot month of Summerlight a respite with an unseasonably cool evening. Still, several of the initiates were sweating. This was the least demanding, yet most difficult test of all.

Finally, the door opened.

The initiates all jumped to their feet, Demetrius shaking his leg, which had fallen asleep.

A Defender, hair and beard white with age, yet his face chiseled with wisdom and his eyes filled with strength, strode out of the room. "High Initiates of the Order of the Holy Defenders, I bid you enter."

One by one they entered the chamber, the old Knight saying "God be with you" to each of them in turn. Gabriel was the last to enter.

"God be with you," the Knight said.

"And also with you," replied Gabriel.

The old man smiled. Gabriel had been the only one to reply to him.

The decorations of the large testing chamber cut a stark contrast with the waiting area outside. Paintings of all past Templar Majoris' lined the walls in chronological order, going all the way back to Brother Michael, the founder of the order. Gabriel wished he had the time to walk through the chamber and examine the pictures and all of the artifacts that were stored in glass boxes along the walls.

Along the eastern wall of the chamber was a long table, set in front of seven thrones. In the smaller chairs were six of the Council of Twelve, three on each side of a larger throne, which was occupied by the Templar Majoris himself.

Across from the council members there were six smaller, padded chairs. Between them, on a white pedestal, sat a sword of the purest silver in color, hilt of the finest gold. The sword emanated a soft, blue light that pulsed rhythmically with what seemed to be the beating of Gabriel's heart. It was the most beautiful sight his eyes had ever beheld. A rush of tingles crossed every inch of Gabriel's skin as he gazed upon the Angelic Blade. He so wanted to touch it.

Two Knights stood before the Templar Majoris. They saluted and walked out of the room.

The older Knight bolted the door behind them. He then bade the initiates to sit in the order they entered the room. Gabriel sat on the end, the closest to the doors.

The Templar Majoris, a man in his late forties, Gabriel suspected, stood. "Initiates, what you are about to experience is the deepest secret The Order holds. Never, upon your word bond, will what occurs within these walls be spoken of outside. Not to friends, not to family, not to clergy, and not to each other. Only with another Knight may you speak of what transpires. If you agree to this, respond by saying 'so shall it be'."

"So shall it be," replied the six initiates in unison.

"Initiates, I present to you the Angelic Blade. It is a sword forged not within our world, but given to our founder, Brother Michael, by the Archangel Uriel himself. With this blade, he defeated the forces of Hell itself, and stopped the Rain of Fire.

"Brother Jonathan, please stand," said the Templar Majoris.

Jonathan, seated in the first chair, stood. Sweat dribbled down his face, although he was reluctant to wipe it. Instead, he tried to blink it out of his stinging eyes.

"Brother Jonathan, is it your wish to become a full knight in The Order? To follow the tenants of The Church, the Articles Of Faith, and the Word of God from this day forward until the Lord calls you home? If so, reply by saying 'I so do'."

"I so do," replied Jonathan.

"Brother Jonathan, take up the Angelic Blade."

Jonathan wiped the sweat off of his brow. Slowly, he stepped up to the pedestal. His hands shaking, he grasped the blade with both hands and held it up before him. For a brief moment, his eyes went blank as he stared off into space. Suddenly the sound of searing flesh echoed through the chamber. Jonathan's eyes opened wide in terror as he screamed at the top of his lungs. The Angelic Blade began to glow a stronger shade of blue, no longer pulsing. He dropped the blade upon the ground, the metal clattering as it struck the stone floor.

Jonathan fell to his knees and wept as he looked upon a spiral brand overlaying a branded cross on his right hand. He had failed. His anguished sobs caused the other five initiates to sink back into their chairs, wondering if the same fate was to befall them.

"Brother Jonathan," said the Templar Majoris. "You have been judged, and your spirit has been found lacking. You have fallen by the wayside. In the morning, you shall leave for Coldar's Springs, where you will possibly spend the rest of your days contemplating your failure."

Gabriel was stunned. All that work Jonathan had done, all for nothing.

"Brother Kent, please escort Brother Jonathan outside."

"Yes, sir!" the old Knight said as he saluted. He strode across the room, picked up the Angelic Blade, and placed it back upon the pedestal. "Come on, lad," he said to Jonathan, grabbing one of his arms and slinging it over his shoulder. He lifted the sobbing Fallen Templar to his feet and helped him out of the room. After a moment, he came back in and once again bolted the door.

Brother Cathal, the council member seated to the Templar Majoris' right, addressed the remaining five horrified initiates with his thick Ulsterian accent. "Brothers, do not allow your heart to be troubled over what has just transpired. The Angelic Blade tests the heart, not the outward appearance of a Holy Defender." He glanced over to Demetrius, who was raising his hand. "Yes, Brother Demetrius?"

"Are you saying that all of Brother Jonathan's... well, holiness... was just a farce?" Demetrius asked.

"A farce, an attempted deception, I cannot say." Brother Cathal sat back in his chair as the Templar Majoris rose again.

"Brother Demetrius, please stand."

Nervously, Brother Demetrius rose to his feet.

Gabriel sank in his chair as the ritual continued. Jonathan; he still couldn't believe it. Since his second year, he had been Gabriel's friend when they were brought together with Demetrius under Tobias' tutelage. Throughout their training, no matter what the situations or punishments, no matter how often Gabriel or Demetrius had grumbled or complained, Jonathan had always bore his circumstances with stoic dignity, never once uttering a contrary word. He found joy in the mundane, and peace in service. If anyone would have passed the Test of the Angelic Blade, thought Gabriel, it should have been Jonathan.

However, he had been rejected. He bore a brand of shame on his hand, which he would have to carry the length of his days, a constant reminder of his failure. Tomorrow, instead of the Induction Mass, Jonathan would be joining the caravan to Coldar's Springs where he would perform his penance, whatever that might be. Truth be told, no one ever spoke of what became of the Fallen.

He came out of his thoughts as Demetrius hesitantly took up the Angelic blade. An instant of blankness crossed his face, and then he took a deep gasp of air. His eyes rolled upward as he dropped the sword, and Demetrius fell backwards unconscious.

The four remaining initiates leaned forward in their chairs, craning their necks to better see what had just transpired, but none daring to stand.

The seven councilmen stood, several grinning. "Brother Demetrius has been judged and found worthy. Tomorrow, he shall attend the Induction Mass and become a full Knight of the Order!

"Brother Kent, please take Brother Demetrius outside so he may be returned to his quarters. Inform the servants to assign a junker to watch over him as he sleeps and to rouse him before Mass."

"Yes, sir," Brother Kent replied. After replacing the Angelic Blade to the pedestal, he scooped up Demetrius in his sinewy arms, slung him over one shoulder, and carried him to the door.

Gabriel offered up a silent prayer of thanks for Demetrius' success. He also prayed that he had sustained no injury, as when he fell, he had struck his head fairly hard on the stone floor.

The next two initiates were accepted, both passing out onto the stone floor, and both having to be carried out by Brother Kent. Simon, the initiate before him, was rejected, receiving the brand of failure upon his hand. During the entire testing time, Gabriel felt like his insides were going to explode with anxiety. He wanted to get his testing over with, yet he was terrified of what would transpire.

Finally, the Templar Majoris spoke the words he both longed and dreaded to hear. "Brother Gabriel, please stand."

A sudden surge of peace and confidence filled him as he rose to his feet. He held his head high in front of the council members. If he was to fail this final test, let it not be for cowardice.

"Brother Gabriel, is it your wish to become a full knight in The Order? To follow the tenants of The Church, the Articles Of Faith, and the Word of God from this day forward until the Lord calls you home? If so, reply by saying 'I so do'."

"I so do!" replied Gabriel.

"Brother Gabriel, before you take up the Angelic Blade, I wanted to inform you that we were all very pleased with your previous tests. Of all initiates being raised to Knighthood this year, your Test of Combat score was the highest, far outpacing the second placed. Also, you were second in the Test of Knowledge, missing the first spot by a mere two points. It is rare indeed that an initiate scores so highly in both tests."

Gabriel was speechless. While he suspected he had done exceedingly well on the Test of Combat, he was sure he had barely squeaked past in the Test of Knowledge. He made a mental note to once again thank Eleenia for her help.

"Brother Gabriel, take up the Angelic Blade."

Gabriel stepped forward boldly to the pedestal. The beautiful sword was displayed before him, once again almost hypnotizing him with its power. Gingerly, he picked up the blade and held it before him. It felt warm in his hands, almost alive. Tingles moved from his hands, up his arms, and then flushed his body with blessed heat that caused him to relax deeply.

Gabriel looked around the room. Time began to slow, literally, as the movements of the seven council members came to a halt. A light, more pure than the sun, beamed down from above to fill the room. The radiance was such pure white, that it made the white of his tunic look dingy gray in comparison. However, instead of illuminating the room, the light dimmed it. The figures before him seemed somehow less real. Even his own body took on the look of a wispy shadow before the untainted supernatural glow that filled the room.

Before him, the light began to swirl, pulling in what looked like glowing orbs of blue energy from around the room, further bathing him in the otherworldly illuminations. The light began to focus, and before him stood the most beautiful man Gabriel's eyes had beheld. He was at least six and a half feet tall, broad at the shoulders, with hair of radiant gold. He wore a robe of the purest white, and feathered wings hung outstretched from his back. The man gazed upon Gabriel with a look of serenity.

Gabriel immediately fell to his knees and prostrated himself before the heavenly figure, averting his eyes in shame for the filthy taint of his sin that had suddenly become so evident to him.

The man's voice boomed as he spoke. "Do not worship me, Gabriel Ki Kalendeen! We are both servants of the One who sent me, He Who is most holy, who reigns forever and ever, Whose name is exalted above all creation. Stand, Gabriel!"

Gabriel rose to his feet. He suddenly realized he was no longer holding the Angelic Blade, and he looked around to see if he dropped it. However, he saw that he was standing beside his own body, which stood holding the blade before it.

"Yes," the man's voice thundered. "You are in the spirit. Concern yourself not for the things around you, only the matter at hand."

Gabriel looked down at himself. Although he was in the spirit, he still appeared to be wearing the same clothes he had worn while in the flesh. He held out his left hand before him. It appeared more real to him than his body, or the other earthly matter within the room.

He quickly tried to focus himself. "Who are you?" he asked.

"I am the Archangel Uriel! He who stood guard over the Gate of Eden! He who watches over thunder and terror! I am the Angel of Repentance! The guardian of the north! And the heavenly guide of your order."

"Sir," Gabriel replied, "What would you have of me?"

"The Spirit has looked into your heart and found you suitable to bear the title of a Knight in the Order of the Holy Defenders! You have been selected for a great service to the world, although the choice is yours whether to accept your quest."

"Sir, I shall do anything required of me!"

The Archangel smiled, speaking in a softer tone. "Good. Tomorrow, after the Induction Mass, go into the city to start your quest."

"Sir, what must I do?" Gabriel replied.

"You shall know what to do when your task is set upon you. Listen to the messages given to you, Gabriel Ki Kalendeen. Heed well what the messengers say. Remember the tenants of The Order, and submit to the Will of God.

"For others," the Archangel continued, "I show them their true selves. What they hide, what they pretend to be, and their most deeply held secrets, are exposed by the light of the showing. However, this would interfere with your quest, as it takes time from which to recover."

The Archangel began to speak in his thunderous voice once more as the heavenly light about the room began to fade. "Remember, Gabriel Ki Kalendeen! Tomorrow, after the Induction Mass, go into the city! You shall know what to do!"

"Wait!" Gabriel cried. "I have so much more to ask you!"

But it was too late, the Archangel had gone, and Gabriel was left standing before the council again, holding the Angelic Blade before him. The icy filth that was reality hit him like a wave, the serenity he had felt while being in the spirit destroyed by the taint of a fallen world. He was tempted to weep at the loss, but the only ones who had wept before were those had failed their test, so he did his best to compose himself.

The confused council members were looking between him and one another, expecting something to happen. Gabriel sat the Angelic Blade back up on the pedestal as he began to become a bit embarrassed in the uncomfortable silence.

Brother Dechlan, the other Ulsterian on the council, was the first to speak. "Uh... Brother Gabriel, please present your right hand."

Gabriel held up his hand, palm facing the council. There was no brand to be found upon it.

"So does that mean he has been accepted?" asked another council member.

The Templar Majoris shrugged. "Brother Gabriel, what did the Archangel say to you?"

Gabriel cleared his throat as he prepared to address his confused leaders. "He told me I was accepted and I needed to start a quest."

The room broke into murmurs as the council members began to speak in hushed voices to one another.

The Templar Majoris raised his hand, silencing the others. "You will have to forgive us, Brother Gabriel. Things like this have only happened in the distant past. A questor has not been named in over five hundred years. I shall take you at your word that you were accepted in light of the lack of the brand on your palm. You may go. Report for the Induction Mass tomorrow."

Gabriel turned and walked towards the door, which Kent opened for him.

"I must consult the Archangel to find out what this means," said the Templar Majoris as Kent closed and bolted the door behind Gabriel.

No words of congratulations? Gabriel was a bit disappointed by his dismissal as he walked through the waiting area before the Tribunal room. Still, it was of little consequence. He had passed his tests, and tomorrow, he would be a Holy Defender!

He was still completely astounded by his meeting with the Archangel. He was practically walking on air. Seeing a heavenly being on this side of his last breath! It was an amazing experience that filled his soul with the purest of joy! Now, he understood the striking depths of the faith that Knights of the Order exhibited. There was no more room for doubt, and there would be no reason to doubt ever again.

The confused servants watched as he walked past. "Brother Gabriel," a red haired servant said. "Do you need help back to your room?"

"No. I am fine."

"Did you not take the test, sir?" the servant asked.

"Yes, I did take it. I shall be at the Induction Mass in the morning. Thank you for your concern, my good man."

"But... they all need helpin'," another servant said.

Gabriel shrugged. "I do not."

The servants immediately started gossiping amongst themselves, but Gabriel didn't care. Let them talk. It didn't matter. He could not be concerned with something so ephemeral.

As he opened the door to leave the Hall of the Defenders, twenty or so people stood outside awaiting the results of his testing. Gamblers, most of them, with several town criers amongst them. Gabriel held up his right hand to them, part in greeting, but mainly to show that he had no brand upon his hand.

"Did ye pass, sir?" asked one of them.

"Yes, I did. I shall be in attendance at the Induction Mass on the morrow."

"But, they always need carried out afterward! Are you sure you passed, Brother Gabriel?" asked another.

"Indeed, I am quite sure. Now, if you will excuse me." Gabriel pushed past several people. One of them grabbed his hand and ran a thumb across his palm. Gabriel jerked his hand back, his annoyance at the spectacle growing by the second.

"There's no brand!" the man said. Several of the crowd spat curses at the announcement, having wagered on Gabriel's failure.

The crowd quickly dispersed, several to start the rumor mill, others to cash in on their winning bets. The ones who had lost their wagers were the only people who took their time leaving the Hall of the Defenders.

Gabriel strode along the darkened path that led to the Defenders' barracks. Soon, he was alone. He would take his time this evening, enjoying the tranquility that filled him, accentuated by the crisp, cool night. Moisture still hung heavy in the air, and the wind began to pick up as it blew through his short, black hair. He inhaled the fresh aromas the breezy summer night offered. This was truly one of the best days of his life.

The glow of a whale-oil lamppost shined up ahead, its light penetrating the leaves of the trees that lined the cobbled path. Gabriel pushed the low hanging branches out of his way, spilling cold water from the leaves upon him. He shuddered as the water ran down his hair and further down his spine, but it too was of minor consequence.

Gabriel stopped for a few seconds to brush the excess water from his right sleeve, and then continued on. However, he stop suddenly, startled by a small, bent, shadowy figure standing on the path several legs before him.

He looked closer at the figure. With the light of the lamppost obscured by the trees, he couldn't make out who it was, but the shape of the outline told him it was a nun, probably advanced in age.

"Sister? May I help you?" he asked.

The nun hobbled out of the shadows, revealing herself to be quite advanced in age. A gnarled hand clung to a walking stick that she leaned heavily upon, taking the weight off of her hunched back.

"A message, Ki Kalendeen," she said in a quiet, raspy voice.

"Sister, you'll catch the death of cold out here. Let me take you back to..."

The old nun interrupted him by pointing her walking stick in his direction. "The cord of three is torn asunder: Knowledge, pride, and worldly plunder. Faith cast down must be set right, or suffer we an endless night."

Gabriel looked to the nun, perplexed. "Faith cast down? Cord of three? What does this all mean?" He moved towards the old nun order to get some clarification from her, but she turned and hobbled down the path, back towards the abbey.

"Sister! Wait!" he said.

"Leave me be! I'll catch my death of cold out here." The old nun continued down the path, walking out of sight.

Gabriel stood, trying to reason out what the nun had meant. Cord of three? Perhaps she was speaking of his three tests, but he had passed them all. Could she mean the confluence of his body, mind, and spirit? Knowledge, pride, and worldly plunder, though. What could that mean? His desire was to serve. He cared little for wealth, the church providing him with all he needed. Knowledge? It definitely wasn't a stumbling block for him. While he enjoyed gaining knowledge, sitting in a library or listening to professors drone on was usually the farthest thing from his mind. And pride? Bah. He was by far the most humble person he knew!

Perhaps it was related to his quest. Perhaps he was to gain the three. But that couldn't be it either. The rest of her message held negative connotations to them.

He shrugged and continued down the path. Perhaps Eleenia would be able to derive some meaning from it. He would ask her the next time he saw her.

Gabriel continued on the path, unable to suppress a wide smile. Tomorrow started his quest. His mind raced with possibilities of what marvelous adventures lay before him.

* * * * * *

Gabriel stepped forward and knelt before the altar.

The priest dipped the host into the chalice of wine held by the acolyte in the act of intinction. "The body and blood of Christ, given and shed for you."

"Amen," Gabriel said, accepting the Eucharist upon his tongue. He stood, made the sign of the Cross, and went back to his seat in the front row.

The smell of the incense was only one of many things making him a bit light-headed this morning. During Father William's sermon, he and the other eighteen tested initiates had come forward and received their royal blue cloaks in the ceremony that had made them full Knights. As he had turned to face the congregation, he had seen Liam and Eleenia in the third row, faces beaming with pride. He was so happy Eleenia had come to support him. Not only that, he was happy she had come to mass, as she had hardly stepped foot into a church in the last four years with the exception of a few obligations. If only she could know the spiritual high that he felt right now. If only he could tell her what he had experienced during his final test.

The rest of the service went as usual. After communion, the priest continued with the liturgy, after which they sang the closing hymn, were blessed, and dismissed.

A crowd of people pressed in against the honored newly raised Knights, congratulating them, patting them on the back, and shaking their hands. Gabriel was very cordial with everyone, but he quickly made his way out of the mob.

Eleenia stood by Liam next to the pew they had occupied and waited for him. Janelle had been right and she felt strong pangs of guilt for avoiding Gabriel these past few days. When he approached her, she threw her arms around him and hugged her brother tightly.

"I'm so proud of you," she said. "If only everyone else could be here today."

"Don't worry, El. They're watching," he said, returning his sister's embrace.

Liam grasped Gabriel's hand in a congratulatory handshake. "Gabriel, this is a great day for you," he said, in his usual subdued tone. "I am very happy for you. Your father would have been pleased."

"Thank you, Liam. It means a lot to me that you came."

Liam gave a restrained laughed. "Well, in spite of how I feel about crowds, I wasn't going to miss your induction." He looked about the packed room, face turning to trepidation. "But, if you'll excuse me, I think I've had enough." He made his way among the pressing bodies, heading towards the door as quickly as he could.

"Come," Gabriel said. "I'll walk you to the library or Janelle's, or wherever you want to go."

Eleenia was taken aback somewhat. "But, don't you have duties to attend to now?"

"No. I have yet to receive my orders. Tobias said it might be up to a week before they assign me, and I am free to do what I will until then. But have no fear. I spoke with Father Alexis before mass, and he told me I was being assigned to training duty."

El nodded knowingly. "So you'll be staying in Avonshire."

"Indeed I shall."

Gabriel made his way through the crowd, Eleenia walking in the wake of her large brother. Soon, they were outside the cathedral and making their way to the university's main gate.

They talked almost the entire way to Janelle's house, El acquiescing to her brother's desire to reminisce about their family. She noticed, however, that he didn't have his usual dour disposition when discussing their departed loved ones. He must have made peace with himself by ascending to the Knighthood, and for this she was glad.

The people of the city bowed low as Gabriel passed, many of them interrupting their conversation to offer Gabriel a respectful word of congratulations.

When they were two doors before the Argos house, a town crier stepped in front them. "Hear ye, hear ye!" he yelled. People stopped their bustle and commotion as the din of the city's immediate area died down.

"Behold, Brother Gabriel Ki Kalendeen!" the town crier said, grabbing hold of Gabriel's wrist and holding his hand high.

Gabriel sighed with a smile, deciding to indulge the overzealous crier. Eleenia stepped back to the crowd a bit, more than happy to allow her brother to bask in glory alone.

The crier continued. "Here before you is the first man in five hundred years to walk away on his own from the Test of the Angelic Blade! He did not need to be carried, nor did he weep! What this means, we do not know. However, I suspect that we can expect great things for this young Defender. I suspect we shall hear his name in bard song for generations to come. Mark this day well, my countrymen, for you shall be able to tell your children's children that you were there on the day that Brother Gabriel Ki Kalendeen first became a Knight of the Order!"

The crowd began to applaud, and Gabriel turned a deep shade of crimson in embarrassment. The subject of bard song, indeed! But then again, who knew what the future might hold.

The town crier thanked Gabriel for his time and went on about his business of reciting the news of the day.

"The price of fame, my dear brother," Eleenia told him as they continued their journey.

Thirty more steps brought them to Janelle's door. Gabriel knocked loudly upon it, a bit more harshly sounding than he had intended.

"Thank you for escorting me," El said.

Gabriel smiled. "My pleasure. Would you like me to stop by and take you back to the resident hall?"

"No, thank you. I'm not sure how long I'll be."

"Don't be too long," Gabriel said.

"Gabriel, please don't start again."

"I'm sorry," he said, holding up his hands. "I just worry about you."

The door was pulled open abruptly. "What the bloody hell is all the pounding about?" Janelle hollered. "Oh, El, it's you. And what are you doing here?" she said, motioning to Gabriel. "I thought you would be at a reception or something."

"I was just leaving," Gabriel replied.

"Good. Just leave."

El chuckled. Their little drama had been played time and time again over the past years. "Now, you two stop it. Gabriel, I'll be back long before sunset. Don't you worry," she said, stepping into Janelle's house.

"Very well," Gabriel said. "If you decide to leave within the next two hours, I shall be at the Dragon's Bane."

Janelle made motion to slam the door in Gabriel's face, but decided not to. She leaned halfway out the door, looking at him quizzically. "There's something different about you today, and it's not just the blue cloak. You have a glow about you. If you were a woman, I'd think you were... I don't know... pregnant."

Gabriel smiled at her warmly. "Thank you, Janelle. I'm sorry I've been rude to you these past few years. And I thank you for befriending my sister."

"An apology and gratitude?" Janelle shuddered for effect. "Stop it, you're acting too strange."

"Ah. Well, I do not wish to distress you further. Good day." Gabriel gave a slight head bow and walked into the crowded street.

* * * * * *

Gabriel quietly roamed alone through the streets of Avonshire. A hearty portion of stout-based stew sat heavily in his stomach, adding to the relaxing surreal quality of the day, one filled with the highest of expectation that even far surpassed the combined anticipation of every sleepless Christmas Eve of his childhood.

After his meal and a glass of wine, Gabriel had spent some time listening to a town crier. The man had nodded to him and smiled in the middle of his news of the day, pointing him out to the crowd as having been raised to Knighthood. Fortunately, this crier was less flamboyant than the last.

It was now two hours past midday, and Gabriel's meandering led him to the great market square that spanned the small north fork of the Thane River that flowed through the city. All about were the sounds of commerce, mostly women haggling for food to prepare for the evening meal. Unfortunately, the stench of the raw sewage that flowed through the north fork wafted up and overpowered the subtle scents of the many merchants that hawked already-prepared foods.

"Brother of the Order," a merchant called out to him. "Would you care for a gooseberry pie? Baked fresh this morning by my very own blind mother!"

Gabriel politely shook his head and continued walking.

"Going on a journey, M'lord?" called another. He fell into step beside Gabriel, trying to show him samples of his wares. "I have high quality hardtack for mere coppers a pound. Guaranteed to be weevil free or your money back. Dried meat, free of maggots, and fruit preserves! Flatbread, plus yellow, white, blue, and green cheeses! Oats for your horse?"

"Thank you, my good man, but I have no need," Gabriel replied.

"Caledonian heather for your secret love, M'lord?" another said.

Gabriel continued on, ceasing to make eye contact with the merchants. Even merely glancing in their direction encouraged them, his new midnight blue cloak making him a prime target for a hard sell.

"Weapons for sale! Long lost artifact from the south! Swords, axes, hammers, blackjacks, knuckle-daggers, morning-stars... Ye need it, I's gots it! And if'n I's don't, I's can get it!"

Gabriel stopped and glanced over at the weapons dealer. The stout bald man sporting a red bandana stood beside his display cart, filled with weapons of every make and style.

The merchant spotted Gabriel's interest immediately. "Ah, there's a man who knows quality! Lord Defender, I would be honored if ye would consider me wares," he said, motioning for Gabriel to join him.

Gabriel strode to the cart, and looked over the impressive selection. A jeweled Persian scimitar struck his fancy, so he lifted it off of the hook it hung on, admiring the fine craftsmanship. "Fascinating!" he said. "Look at the way these gems catch the light and split it into a rainbow. Can you imagine how impressive it would look under the wasteland sun?"

"Aye, ya know your weapons, M'lord. That there belonged t'the Sultan of Adbah Mushtyat, or some such place. If ya like jeweled items, come over ta this side."

Gabriel replaced the jeweled scimitar upon the hook and followed the merchant to the other side of his cart. All of the blades he displayed on this portion of his cart were laid out upon pieces of red silk.

The merchant pointed to an old blade in the center of the display. "Now, this one dates back to when Elgannan was still called Mercia. It belonged t'the third son of Thingfrith, name of Ecgfrith who was..."

The merchant droned on and on as Gabriel's interest in the history of the blades began to wane. He was about to excuse himself, when a jeweled dagger caught his eye and tugged at his memories, long suppressed and buried where they could cause little pain. However, the sight of the blade caused them to sear back into the forefront of his mind.

A wave of excitement washed over him as he beheld the engraving of an eagle overlaid upon a cross on the hilt. He picked it up and removed it from its sheath. The silver blade bore the same insignia.

"Where did you get this?" Gabriel asked, interrupting the merchant's latest dissertation.

"That one? I bought it in New Portsmouth, four years ago."

"How much?" Gabriel asked bluntly.

"I suppose I could part with it fer eighteen gold. That's close t'what I paid for it," the merchant replied, anxiously biting his lip.

Gabriel pulled out his coin purse and counted out eighteen gold, handing it to the stout man.

The merchant silently cursed himself for not starting his price higher. "A fine blade, that one. Almost got me in a bit of trouble, getting it."

Gabriel held the dagger up for the merchant to see. Another swath of emotions rolled over him as he tried to sort through them. "This was my father's dagger!" he said, hand and his voice almost shaking. "It belonged to Lord Ki Kalendeen of Lystra. From whom did you purchase it?"

The merchant closed his eyes as he feigned trying to remember. "I... Sorry, M'lord. I just can't seem ta jog me old brains."

Gabriel could sense that he was lying. "Do not try to play your knavery upon me, sir," he said angrily. "You shall tell me every detail of how you came into possession of this dagger."

Several passersby walked slowly past, casually watching the altercation. The merchant saw that he was gaining an audience, and incurring the wrath of a man of the Church in Avonshire was a sure way to be shunned and out of business.

"Alright, alright! Don't get yer moral underpinnings in an uproar," the merchant said, trying to diffuse the situation. "I gots it several days after th' fall a' House Ki Kalendeen. A lad sold it t'me. About five and a half feet tall, blonde hair. He was an awful mess. Had th' piss beat out a' him by the looks of it. Looked t'be about thirteen or fourteen." He stared at Gabriel for a few moments. "Looked a lot like you, he did."

"David..." Gabriel whispered.

The merchant shrugged. "I don' know what his name was."

Understanding washed over Gabriel's face. "Cord of three... The cord of three!!!" he yelled, grabbing the merchant by the shoulders and shaking him.

The merchant was starting to feel a bit uncomfortable. "Aye, whatever ye say, M'lord!"

"He's alive! David! HE'S ALIVE!!!" Gabriel put the dagger in his tunic pocket and turned, running through the merchant square. The message from the nun now made some sense to him. The path of his quest was now clear. He had to tell Eleenia!

Gabriel ran through the market, dodging through people as they rushed to get out of his way. Excitement flowed through him as the possibilities raced through his mind. David was alive after these last four years. It was almost beyond belief, but being of the Order, he was willing to take many things on faith alone.

The odd doubt crossed his mind, such as why David had not contacted him and Eleenia or come to live in Avonshire with them, but the thrill of the quest before him and the memory of the Archangel's words quickly drove any uncertainty from him.

He hastily made mental notes of all he must do before he departed. First, he would have to ask permission from the Templar Majoris. Next, he would need to talk to the Order's treasurer to receive the necessary funds. While he had more than enough gold saved up to pay for the journey ten times over, it was a path that God had set his feet upon rather than a personal expedition. However, if the expenses were denied, he would gladly pay for himself. Gabriel cared little for material wealth.

Then there was the problem of Eleenia. He had dreaded what would happen if his duties ever came in conflict with his self-imposed responsibility to remain her guardian, and it appeared as though that possibility was about to become a reality. She could stay with Janelle, he supposed, but she would still have to make her rounds. She had living quarters on the University grounds, and if she was to not venture out into the city while he was gone... No, Gabriel realized Eleenia would never agree to that. If only she could come with him, he could continue to watch after her.

A small bit of anxiety found its way through the euphoria. What would the Templar Majoris or the Bishop say if he made his vow regarding his sister known? Even if he managed to work things out this time, what about next time?

No, it wouldn't be a problem. Next time he was sent out, David would be here to protect her. Gabriel mentally rebuked himself for allowing his faith the slip. Yes, he would find David, who would be overjoyed to come back to Avonshire to stay, and David could watch over Eleenia while he was gone. His mind was made up. That is how things would be. The anxiety left him as quickly as it had come.

On he ran through the crowded streets, leaping over the occasional obstacles that lay in his path. Losing control as he rounded the final corner to the Argos home, Gabriel plowed into a group of people chatting on the street corner.

"Hey, you watch where you are going, Popinjay!" one of them shouted. "Or I'll..." The man stopped his threat short when he saw Gabriel's midnight blue cloak.

"My apologies, my good man!" Gabriel shouted as he ran from the group. "God's blessings upon you!"

Gabriel arrived at the Argos home, stopping to briefly catch his breath. His deep breathing exercises of his training worked beautifully, and in a quarter of a minute, he had recomposed himself. He quickly began pounding on the door.

"El! I need to speak to you!" he shouted. He continued to pound, drawing curious looks from passersby.

"Seems as though that cavorting heathen Argos girl is finally going to get what she has coming to her," said a persnickety woman engrossed in the spectacle, making no attempt to conceal her words.

"Yes," said her equally snobbish and loud companion. "I hope the church throws her in the dungeon and beats some propriety into that wicked hoyden. It would do her a world of good."

"Indeed, and I wish I could be there to see it all," stated the first woman.

At their words, Gabriel stopped his knocking and spun upon the two gossips, finger pointed threateningly in their direction. "You speak from ignorance, woman!" he said, righteous anger filling his words. "Judge not another person's heart, lest you be judged by the same measure! Away with the lot of you! Back to your sewing circle!"

The two women gasped indignantly, mouths agape. "The nerve of that indecorous churcher," one of them replied haughtily. "Who does he think he is?"

Gabriel took a threatening step towards them. While a good two legs away, the two women still backed up. "You should get down on your hands and knees and thank God daily with all of your being that you were not given the lot of Janelle Argos! To whom much is given, much is required, yet by your actions you are found wanting! You lord the circumstance He has blessed you with over others of less fortune! Now be gone!"

He turned back to resume his pounding on the door, but came face to face with Janelle, staring incredulously at him.

"Who are you?" she asked. "What has become of Gabriel Ki Kalendeen?"

"Janelle, I urgently need to speak with El."

"Uh... come in," she said, holding the door for him, concealing a smirk at the gratifying spectacle she had just witnessed.

Gabriel stepped into the Argos household, but for the first time, invited. "Where is El?" he asked.

"She's in the sparring room, catching her breath. Hardly has any wind left sitting in the library day in and day out. Come with me."

Janelle led Gabriel through the home, into a room with no furniture save two benches on opposite walls. On the floor were mats stuffed with straw, and several training dummies hung from the rafters. Ports cut into the wall were propped open, allowing light and the stench of rotting garbage and sewage in from the alley behind the house. The room had been recently added to the house with mostly Felix's pay from the Free Company. Eleenia sat on the left hand bench, quarterstaff at her side, staring at the ceiling trying to catch her breath.

Gabriel quickly walked over and sat beside her. "El! I have some fantastic news!"

Eleenia shifted her gaze from the ceiling to her brother, panting not subsiding. "What... is it?" she said between breaths.

Gabriel retrieved the dagger from his tunic pocket, holding it out for her to examine. Eleenia took it into her hands, turning the hilt against the light so as to make out the engraving.

"Where did you find... find it?" she asked, still panting.

"From a merchant in town. El, he purchased it from David!"

Eleenia handed the dagger back to Gabriel. She took a deep breath as her wind began to return to her. "Don't be foolish. Why would he have sold Father's dagger? He would have been forced to muck out the stalls for that."

"No, you don't understand. He sold it AFTER the attack! El, David is alive!"

Eleenia hung her head and placed her hand upon his. She sat quietly for a few seconds, trying to select words that would not hurt her brother too badly. "Gabriel, David is dead. He was laid to rest four years ago in our family's mausoleum. I thought you had accepted this."

Gabriel would not be swayed. He shook his head, smiling. "No, he's alive. And I'm going to bring him back."

"Stop it. He's dead," Eleenia said, rubbing her temples. She was beginning to feel exasperated. "If he were alive, he would have contacted us. Why do you think he didn't?"

"I don't know, but I'm going to ask him. I must be off to the..."

"No!" Eleenia interrupted. "He didn't because he was killed with everyone else! Why must you drudge up these emotions? You have to put this behind you."

"El, let me explain. An old nun gave me a message that mentioned a cord of three. 'The cord of three is torn asunder,' she said. She must have meant you, David, and me. The merchant said the lad he bought the dagger from looked like me!"

"So?" El said coldly.

"You know how much David resembles me. We have different hair color, but apart from that the resemblance is fairly hard to miss."

El patted Gabriel on his hand again. "Anyone could have looted that dagger from the castle. Don't do this to yourself."

Gabriel withdrew his hand. "I know he is alive. I am going to ask permission this very day to travel to New Portsmouth. When I bring him back to Avonshire, I will accept your apologies."

Eleenia threw up her hands. "Fine. Go on your little quest, based on the word of a drunken weapons salesman and an old nun's delusions most likely prompted by indigestion. But don't say I didn't warn you when you come back empty and disappointed!"

Gabriel stood and kissed her on her forehead. "And don't you be angry over being wrong when David and I return," he said, giving special emphasis on the word 'wrong.'

He straightened his tunic and faced Janelle. "Thank you, Janelle. I shall take my leave." He turned and strode out of the room.

Thoughts of Gabriel making a fool of himself raced through Eleenia's mind. "Wait!" Eleenia called after him. "I'm coming with you!"

* * * * * *

The Waverunner rocked back and forth upon the choppy waters, north of Decia. The sounds of sailors running back and forth, trying to change tack to keep up with the continuously changing winds thudded upon the roof of the captain's cabin. Karinga took a slug of whiskey, considering the implications of his Yeoman's statements as his six officers waited in the crowded room.

"So," Karinga said, putting the empty wooden cup down upon his desk. "What exactly are you implying, Mr. Tanner?"

"I'm not trying to imply anything. I just find it odd that Laudabacker and his men knew exactly where I was going to be and when."

"But you go to the Four Dragons often when we are in Northpoint," Fyke interjected.

"True," David said, "but never that early. And those two ruffian stinkpots he brought with him would have stood out if they were hanging around outside all day waiting for me."

Dunkirk spoke up. "The guild has spies all over the northland, David. Anyone could have told Laudabacker where you were."

"The only ones that knew I was going to the Four Dragons are the people in this very room, Bosun," David said angrily.

Karinga stood up, nearly bumping his head on the crossbeam. "Tanner, that's enough. I've been with these men for seven years now. I trust them all just as much as I trust you!"

"Davey," Doc said, "someone could have been skulking around outside the inn and run to the docks as soon as they saw you. They then could have told Laudabacker as soon as the Independent was moored. Unlikely, I'll admit, but not outside the realm of possibilities."

"It might all be just a coincidence that he showed up," the boatswain said.

"Damnit, Dunkirk, didn't you listen to me?" David yelled. "He said 'Been told Tanner would be here!' Someone told him I WOULD be there! They had foreknowledge of where I was going to be!"

"Ah yes, my apologies. I forgot and I stand corrected."

Karinga settled himself back in his chair. "Alright, gentlemen. I am going to go with Doc's theory. We need to put this behind us. With the guild getting ballsier toward us, we must rely on one another, and we can't be suspicious of each other. We're putting into Port Cauldwell in a week or so. Once there, tell everyone we are heading north for Kirkwall. However, once out to sea, we shall turn south, making for Bord de la Mer. Not a word to the crew about this, gentlemen. If the guild does have spies watching us, I want to throw them off our trail. Then we shall dismiss the crew and lay low for a while until Gaeceric's attentions turn elsewhere."

Edge and Fyke looked downcast at the thought of extended shore leave.

For Fyke, being at sea meant everything to him. Ever since he left the Ordures Blanches when he was barely a man the sea had called to him. The rocking of the ship, while making other men sick, would put Fyke to sleep like he was a babe rocking in his mother's arms. These days, when he had to spend a night on land, he would barely sleep a wink. The stillness put him in mind of the grave, and without peace in his soul, thoughts of the grave filled him with dread.

Edge's reasons were different. When ashore, he went through money like a divorced noble went through courtesans. Since David had come on board, he had earned more money than he ever thought possible, but somehow, he would still end up broke by the time he got back to the ship. Gambling, drink, food, women, fights, and jail awaited Stockmoor when he was in port. His worst enemy was his success.

Karinga noted their disappointment, but remained firm. "I'm sorry, gentlemen, but things are getting too hot for us out here. Three months should be long enough. Dunkirk and I will stay with the ship to get her refitted. That is all."

One by one, the officers left the cabin, David trailing behind. As soon as the rest were out, David closed the door in front of him. He turned to face Karinga, eyes downcast.

"My apologies, Captain, for overstepping my bounds," he said, not wanting to meet Karinga's gaze. "I thought my warning was for the good of the crew. I didn't mean any disrespect or to cause dissension."

A particularly nasty wave hit the starboard side of the boat, causing it to lurch. Karinga's cup fell from the table and clattered across the floor. David shifted his stance to maintain balance.

Karinga merely stared at him, not saying a word.

"Captain," David started.

Karinga put his hand up, silencing the young Yeoman. "It's alright, David. Since you were the one they approached, I suppose that rules you out as a suspect. You are correct. One of my men is most likely working for the guild. Possibly even an officer."

David looked up, his eyes widening. "What? You knew and didn't say anything? You made me look the fool in front of the men?"

"Yes, I did," Karinga said flatly. "If the turncoat knew I had an inkling, I might not catch him. I have to know for sure, though." He bent over to collect the cup that had fallen and sat it back upon his desk. "A week ago, upon performing an inspection, I noticed that several of the support lines under the main topsail had been partially cut. Had some men been up there trying to open or shorten the sail..." Karinga left the rest of the thought unsaid. "Tell no one of this, my boy. Not even Fyke. This is between you and I."

* * * * * *

Gabriel and Eleenia reached the Hall of the Defenders shortly thereafter. On the way over, Gabriel had explained the strange meeting with the old nun, however El still brushed it off as an old woman's delusion.

Gabriel strode inside the Hall, giving a quick head bow to the groups of Defenders who went about their administrative duties. Eleenia stayed close by, never feeling quite comfortable within these environs. They made their way to the stone stairwell that led up to the Templar Majoris' office, three floors above them.

While Gabriel was tempted to take the stairs two at a time, he opted to keep a modicum of outward order, even though inside he wanted to sprint all the way to New Portsmouth this very hour.

"Have you given a thought as to what you are going to say?" El asked. "The story you told me isn't very convincing."

"Not to worry. The Templar Majoris will understand. He is most likely even expecting me."

"Why is that, Gabriel?"

Gabriel stepped to the side to allow a priest descending the stairway to pass by. "I can't say."

"You don't know or you aren't allowed to tell me?" El inquired.

"I am forbidden to discuss it with you. My apologies, but that is one of the tenants of the Order," Gabriel replied.

"Please, Gabriel," El said. "I am your sister. You can tell me anything. Surely you wouldn't withhold this kind of information from me. Please, tell me."

"I'm sorry, but I cannot."

"I would tell you if our roles were reversed," El said with a wry smile.

Gabriel stopped dead in his tracks, halfway between the third and fourth floor landings. "Oh, really? Let's see. I remember several years ago, you bested Father in a game of King's Table. He said you could have one request of him, and if it were within his power to grant it, he would. You asked him a question. Tell me, dear sister, what was that question you asked Father? And what was his reply?"

El angrily pursed her lips together as Gabriel cocked his head to the side in mock expectancy. She had sworn to her father that unless her life depended upon it, she would never reveal what he had told her to anyone. She could not tell Gabriel, and he knew it. To her recollection, this was the first time he had bested her logically, and she did not like it one bit.

"Fine!" she spat. "Keep your little Order secrets if you must."

They continued up the stairs, entering the fourth floor hallway. Several of the council members had their offices here, and at the end of the hall, two Defenders stood in ceremonial armor outside of the Templar Majoris' office. Gabriel approached the door, unsure what to say. His uncertainty was short-lived as the guard on the right pulled the door open for him.

Inside, the waiting area was empty. The knight who had opened the door for them walked to the office door and knocked gently. A voice form inside bade him enter, and he closed the door behind him. El took a seat on one of the many benches as Gabriel paced about the room, examining the paintings that adorned the walls. As he was admiring one entitled 'Brother Michael and the Rain of Hellfire,' the inner door opened and the knight stepped out.

"The Templar Majoris shall see you now, Brother Gabriel," he said.

"Thank you, Brother," Gabriel replied, not knowing the knight's name. "El, would you care to join me?"

"No, I'll wait here," she said, suddenly intimidated by the thought of standing before the leader of the Holy Defenders.

Gabriel shrugged and stepped inside the office. He pulled the door closed as he entered and glanced around the room. Although the Templar Majoris was a man of great importance, his office layout was extremely practical with very few frills. A shield with the five cross standard of the Holy Defenders hung on the rear wall with two decorative swords behind it. The office's two windows overlooked the Coldar River, the top floor of the building being slightly higher than the walls that separated the University from the rest of the city.

Behind the simple wood desk sat the Templar Majoris, reading through some parchments. In front of the desk were two simple wooden chairs. The leader of The Order did not acknowledge Gabriel's presence as he picked up a quill pen and scratched his signature across the bottom of a parchment. He replaced the quill in the ink well and glanced up to the newly initiated Knight.

"Has your quest become clear to you, Brother Gabriel?" he asked.

"Yes, sir, it has," Gabriel replied. He drew the knife from his tunic and offered it handle first to the Templar Majoris, who took it in hand.

"Very fine craftsmanship," he said while looking the dagger over. "What does this have to do with your quest?"

Gabriel took a deep breath. El's words of doubt began to creep into his mind under the scrutinizing eye of his leader. What if she was right? No, Gabriel thought, this had to be what the Archangel was speaking about. "My lord, you remember the tragedy that befell my family? This dagger belonged to my father, and was purchased several days after the attack by a boy that I believe was my brother. He was last seen in New Portsmouth, and I would like permission to venture forth to retrieve him from whatever has befouled him." As Gabriel spoke the words, a spiritual strength filled him. He felt reassured. The Templar Majoris' deadpan stare turning to a wide smile underneath his mustached face told him he had chosen the correct path.

"Brother Gabriel, I am pleased you overcame your doubts and acted on faith. The Archangel told me of your quest last night. Your permission is granted." The Templar Majoris picked up the parchment he had just signed and handed it to Gabriel. "This is a voucher for the gold you will need for your journey."

A soft knock interrupted the meeting. The knight who had shown Gabriel in opened the door and stuck his head in. "Pardon the interruption, my lord, but Bishop Sentius is here to see you."

"Very well. I shall be a moment longer."

Gabriel turned back to the Templar Majoris. "Thank you, sir!"

"Brother," the Templar Majoris began, a look of concern crossing his face. "Might I remind you of the words of Saint Matthew, that no one can serve two masters?"

"My lord?" Gabriel asked, confused. "I do not serve material wealth. I tithe above and beyond what is required, and even requested! I care little for gold!"

"No, Brother, that is not the master of which I speak." The Templar Majoris motioned towards the door. "Your sister. I have noticed that since tragedy struck your family, you have considered yourself her guardian. Your sense of duty towards your earthly family is of what I speak. That is your second master, and I fear it shall one day come into conflict with your service to the Almighty."

"Ah," Gabriel said. "My lord, I understand your fear, and have fretted over it myself, losing many a night's sleep. However, in finding my brother, a serendipitous result shall be that he may be El's protector. And since we are on the subject of my sister, I would like permission to take her with me."

The Templar Majoris stood silent in thought for a few seconds, then nodded. "There has been an outbreak of the Snakepox in New Portsmouth. As a healer, she would be valuable to your mission by demonstrating Christ's mercy. She may accompany you, but she shall do so as a representative of the Church."

Gabriel tried to suppress a smile, as he knew this would mean he would be expected to be her protector. The conflict of two masters was resolved, albeit temporarily. No matter. It would give him enough time to find David, and then all of his problems would be solved. The Lord had truly smiled upon him this day, Gabriel thought.

* * * * * *

The following morning, Gabriel and Eleenia were met outside the Cathedral grounds gate by Janelle Argos, Holle McLeod, and Liam Branvold. When they came upon the trio, Janelle was chatting with Liam, while Holle hung back giving Liam a discreet appraising once over.

"So what I heard is true," Liam said in his characteristically deadpan voice, mindlessly running his finger over the hilt of Gabriel's double-edged longsword sheathed in its plain leather scabbard strapped to his horse's side. "Do you honestly believe he is still alive?"

"With all of my heart," Gabriel replied from atop Thunder, his black charger given to him by his father as a gift on his fifteenth birthday. The horse nickered, eager to get on the road, not used to the amount of gear and supplies placed upon it.

"May God go with you, my friend. And may your quest be successful."

El sat uneasily in the saddle of Nightingale, her dappled palfrey. She had not ridden in a number of years and had lost a good bit of her muscle tone. Saddle bags were slung across the horse in front and behind her saddle. The bottles that contained her elixirs and powders rattled from within as the horse impatiently stamped its front legs.

Janelle handed her a sheathed dagger. "Just in case. The road is dangerous this time of year. Bandits, thieves, Aragil guards, wickaraks..."

"There is no such thing as wickaraks," El replied. "But thank you for the dagger. I shall return it to you, hopefully unused."

"Yes, there are! Felix fought one last Emberlight on the border of the Cursed Lands after he caught it trying to eat one of the company's horses!"

"Aye," Holle said, in her thick Caledonian accent. "They are much more common up north. Haven't seen one m'self, but me Ma has. Killed her father and mother!"

El rolled her eyes and gave an exasperated but good natured sigh. She would miss her unrefined best friends terribly these next few weeks.

"I wish I could come with you. I'm sure you could use some intelligent conversation," Janelle said, loud enough for Gabriel to hear.

Gabriel glanced sideways at her and gave half a chuckle.

"Be careful." Janelle took Eleenia's hand and gave it a squeeze.

After saying their goodbyes, Gabriel and El began their fortnight's journey to New Portsmouth.

* * * * * *

David found himself at the bow of the ship, looking out over the jib. In a mere four years, he had amassed so much wealth that he could retire. With the heat on Karinga, it may be time to toss around leaving the Waverunner. He loved the tranquility of the sea, and he loved the thrill of taking on much more experienced merchants, but with Gaceric and the guild being so vindictive towards Captain Jaxom and his crew, it might be time to lay low and think about a land-based trading career.

Edge came up behind him and put his hand on his shoulder, startling David and bringing him back to the present. "Davey," Edge said in a concerned tone. "As you know, I am not good with my gold. I'll be broke in a week if left to my own devices."

David turned to face him. "That would be unfortunate, my friend. I imagine we will be stranded in Bord de la Mer for at least a month. Possibly for a month and a half! How much gold do you have saved up?"

"Twenty-eight gold."

David laughed. "Edge, you could live like a Lord for two months on that much!"

Edge nodded with a hint of embarrassment in his dark, close-set eyes. "I know, but I tend to get into the revelry of the moment! Some ale, some whiskey, some women, some gambling..."

"So what do you want from me?"

Edge met David's eyes. "I want you to hold onto my gold for me. Pay for my lodging then only let me have two gold and five silver a week. Could you do that for me?"

David nodded with a smile. "Of course! After all you've taught me? Tricks and technique that my..." He caught himself almost saying his fighting tutor. "My mind would never have come up with on its own? Don't worry. You'll have money to spare when we put back to sea."

The big man heaved a huge sigh of relief. "Thank you, Davey. I owe you big."

David turned his attention back to the sea after Edge strode off, anxiety no longer written across his face. His thoughts turned back to his land-based trading. He would have to learn Gaulian to be able to effectively trade with the merchants there, and learning foreign languages was not his best skill. They all seemed so ass backwards in their structure.

He started doing mental calculations in his head of the cargo they had on hand. A bit of it would fetch a good price in Port Cauldwell, such as the remaining silk, the whiskey they picked up in Port Maynard and the crates of preserved meats and seafood they got in Northpoint, and he could use the profits from that to load up on copper and iron before heading to Bord de la Mer, were both were in extreme demand right now.

A stop at Lady Malcoeur's would do for the whiskey, and he could sell the foodstuffs himself at the market while Captain Karinga was having some minor repairs done on the ship. Four days, Fyke had said it would take. More than enough time to hawk some rations, which would more than double their profits that they would receive from Malcoeur, Segovax, or any of the other dozen or so warehouse merchants in the city. Plus, the fact that they were going to be there for four days meant he could use the time to his advantage with Lady Malcoeur, saying that he could sell the whiskey to the taverns himself.

No, he thought, he would stay with the Waverunner for as long as possible. This life just had far too much to offer to leave it behind.

* * * * * *

Sitting back, Eleenia let the warmth of the bath water replace the aching that seemed to penetrate her down to the bone. Four days on the road, sleeping on the ground in way stations, eating hardtack and cheese, made the contrast of the Wayfarer's Inn seem utterly luxurious. Tomorrow morning, they would set out for Gillingham, then cross the newly redrawn border into Aragil. But for tonight, it was a restful bath, wild game pie, sweet wine by the fire, then sleep in a warm bed with a down pillow.

El hated traveling in Summerlight. Rain, muddy roads, and waking up covered in sweat. Well, better now than in Winterdark. On their return trip, it should be a good bit cooler, although Gabriel's disappointment upon the realization that he was on a fool's errand would make the trip none too pleasant. She was sure he would self-righteously punish himself, and her along with him, by forgoing all comforts and sleeping out under the moon. And probably on rocks.

She was eager, though, to get to New Portsmouth. She had read about the Purple Pox, or Snakepox as it was also called. The disease only seemed to show up during hot summers. She had a few ideas about treatment that she wanted to try out. Word had it that Lord Eddington's wife had been struck by the malady and wasn't expected to survive. That was where she would start. At least staying near the lord's manor would afford some comforts.

A serving girl came into the room and placed a cup of sweet wine on the small table next to the tub.

"What is this for?" Eleenia asked. "I didn't order anything."

"My compliments, m'lady. I understand you are a healer and..."

"Are you sick, girl?"

"Oh, no! Not me, m'lady," the serving girl said nervously. "Its me da. He has the runny bottom. He has spent most of the last two days in the outhouse."

"Ah," El replied. "It will usually go away by itself. Tell me, what does your father eat?"

"Mostly leftover stew I bring home with warm ale."

"Try feeding him rough grain bread and hard yellow cheese. Trust me, I've been eating that since we set out from Avonshire, and I haven't been able to go in two days. Oh, and lots and lots of water." El took the cup the girl had laid there and took a sip. It hit the proverbial spot. Not too strong, nice and sweet, and much of the flavor of the grapes still in it. "And thank you very much for the wine, miss."

The serving girl smiled. "Oh, it's the least I could do. Thank you, m'lady." She smiled and left the room.

El relaxed in the cooling water. If only every sickness was that easy to cure, she thought.

* * * * * *

Gabriel was having an ale at the table next to the small fire, empty bowl of stew and bread crumbs in front of him. Two men, dressed like him, only with red cloaks, walked into the common room from outside. 'Fallen,' he thought. One was a little older than he, about two fingers short of six feet tall. The other was five feet and two hands, middle aged, and they were both sturdily built. Clean shaven, brown hair, and with all the dust on them, they were obviously fresh off the road.

"I'm going to get us a room," the older one said. "Get us a table and some meat and taters. I could choke at the thought of another bite of travelling bread."

"Yes, Brother," the younger one said. He walked towards the tables when he saw Gabriel's blue cloak. "Brother! Always good to meet a fellow member of the order. I am Brother Phillip, and my companion is Brother Maxwell."

Gabriel stood up and offered his hand. "I am Brother Gabriel." As they shook hands, Gabriel felt the spiral brand on the man's hand given to him by his failing the test of the Angelic blade. "Please, won't you and Brother Maxwell join me?"

Phillip eagerly took a seat. "Thank you."

"I have to admit, you are the first Fallen I have met."

"Oh, we're not much different from you. Not as many obligations, more travel, and the work is far more interesting."

Gabriel cocked his head sideways. "Truly? I thought the Fallen merely stayed in Coldar's Spring and meditated on their... you know..."

Phillip gave a loud belly laugh. "Is that what they told you? Too funny! No, we do spend some time meditating, but we do a lot of the Church's dirty work. For example, Maxwell and I are returning from Port Cirril. Some bandits were robbing the priories along the Thane River, so we tracked them down and dealt out some holy justice."

The serving girl came over to the table. "What can I get you, m'lord?"

"Two servings of meat and taters, and two pale ales," Phillip said.

"Rabbit or beef, m'lord?"

"Hm. They both sound good. How about one of each. Whichever one Maxwell doesn't choose, I'll have."

She curtsied and took her leave.

"What did you do when you caught them?" Gabriel asked.

"Cut off their hands. They won't be using them to reach into the Church's pockets no more, eh?" he laughed.

Gabriel sat back a bit aghast. "I had no idea!"

"And before that we were sent to Denning where a priest was accused of raping altar boys. We actually walked in on him in the act! So we did a bit of altering ourselves. Although I hear he sings beautifully now!"

Gabriel gave off a nervous laughter, crossing his legs.

Brother Maxwell came over to the table and sat down. "What'd I miss?"

Phillip motioned to Gabriel. "Just telling Brother Gabriel here about our adventures."

"Ah, pleased to meet you, Brother." They shook hands. Again, Gabriel was able to feel the brand.

The serving girl brought the ales over and a bowl filled with salty sticks. Maxwell drained his tankard and ordered another.

"You don't look like you've been a knight for very long, Gabriel," Maxwell said after wiping the froth from his mouth. "Under a year, from the looks of you."

"Yes, I was raised to the cloak a mere week ago."

"Well then, congratulations are in order!" He raised his newly refilled tankard. "To Brother Gabriel! May God grant you long life and happiness!"

"Hear, hear!" Phillip said, raising his tankard.

The serving girl brought over the plates of piping hot food.

"Oh! I'll take the rabbit, if you don't mind, Phillip!"

"Not at all, Brother."

"Another bowl of stew for you, m'lord?"

"Ah, yes, please," Gabriel replied. "Gentlemen, I have a good friend who failed his final test. Name of Brother Jonathan Rothschild. He was the one in our group we were sure was going to pass. If you would watch out for him, I would be in your debt."

Phillip sprinkled some salt on his half mashed taters. "Brother, we all watch out for one another. Your friend will not be an exception. But we shall tell him that we met you, and that you send your best."

"And my condolences, for I did not get to talk to him before he left for Coldar's Spring."

Maxwell and Phillip looked at each other and snickered. "I think you're the one who should be receiving condolences, Brother," Maxwell said through a mouthful of rabbit. "His life is going to be much more adventurous than yours. I heard that there is an opening in the Blackguard. I'd love to fill it myself, but Brother Bradford wants some fresh, young blood. If your friend gets assigned to them, he is in for a life of adventure."

Phillip gave a knowing nod and daintily began eating. Nobility, most likely, Gabriel thought, whereas Maxwell was probably the son of a merchant or a tradesman.

The serving girl brought the bowl of stew and another section of warm bread. They ate their meals in relative silence, and then the two Fallen excused themselves and headed off to the men's bath, Brother Maxwell nursing his chest.

"Old wounds giving you some trouble, Brother?" Phillip asked.

"Nah, just a bit of discomfort. It happens every now and then..." Their voices trailed off as they walked towards the baths.

* * * * * *

It was evening when the Waverunner pulled into Port Cauldwell. Lady Malcoeur would buy the remaining silk and the whiskey, David thought. She was a bit of a night owl, so Karinga would see her tonight. Afterwards, David wanted to come back to the ship and knock off early. He wanted to get up before sunrise so he could procure a hawking stall in the prime space of the market. Normally he would stay in an inn tonight, but he wanted to save money, since he didn't know when he would be trading again.

The walk to Lady Malcoeur's was uneventful. Karinga and Edge were the only two who accompanied David, as Fyke was going to arrange for the ship repairs. Johan greeted them at the door, as per usual, and invited them in.

"Kal will be along in a minute or two," he said, as he brought them into the waiting room. "Can I get you anything?"

"Creamed whiskey. Please make sure its cold if possible," David said.

"Oh, dear God! What is that?" Karinga asked pointing to the cage in the corner. Inside, a young, orange ape sat there playing with a small stuffed doll.

"I'll bet a silver that none of you know what it is," Lady Malcoeur said as she strode in the room, wearing a stunning silk gown.

David walked over to the cage, fascinated. "It's an orang. This one looks like a Pongo breed, probably from a trader out of Singapore. I'd say it's five years old, male, and looks a bit sick. What have you been feeding it, Kal?"

Karinga rolled his eyes. He fortunately knew better than to bet against David's obscure and seemingly limitless knowledge.

Kal sighed and flipped David a silver. "How do you know all these things? We feed it meat and bread. Why? What do they usually eat?"

"Try giving it some fruit, and occasionally some honey and eggs. In fact, is it for sale?" David reached into the cage and the ape moved over to him to get a good scratch, which David obliged.

"Yes, it is, actually."

"How much?"

"Hold it right there, Tanner!" Karinga interjected. "I'll not be having that crazy, hairy bastard on my ship!"

"Oh, please, Captain? I'll take good care of it and clean up after it. See how much it likes me?"

The monkey reached through the cage to give David a playful poke in the ribs.

"No, and that's final. That bloody thing HAS to be bad luck, and it looks like it probably flings its poo!"

The orang looked over to Karinga, stuck his tongue out, and raspberried him, which caused everyone else to laugh.

"Fine," David said. He pet the ape one more time, then turned his attention to the matters at hand. A quick glance into the warehouse showed that Malcoeur had plenty of copper and iron ingots on hand, which she was probably anxious to get rid of. Not too much timber or wool, so metals it would be. He would be able to sell them in Normandy for four times what they were going to pay for them, which was probably twice what Malcoeur had paid. He hoped the negotiations would be quick, as he wanted to get a good start tomorrow.

"So, Tanner, what have you got for me?" Kal said as they sat down at her desk.

"Silk and whiskey, both of the highest quality," David replied.

"High quality, huh? After sitting in the hold of a ship for a few weeks, I doubt the silk is high quality anymore."

"Better quality than those moth eaten rags you've got on! And not nearly so gaudy! As to the whiskey?" David snapped his fingers and Edge handed him a bottle. "We'll all have to sample it ourselves, won't we?"

Johan's eyes lit up, as per usual when David brought alcohol to sell. He practically did half the negotiating for him, much to the displeasure of Lady Malcoeur.

David poured out five small shots of the dark, amber liquid. "Bottoms up!" he said, as the five of them grabbed a shot. The burning feeling in David's throat didn't last long, as he was getting used to drinking stronger drinks.

"Oh, that is excellent," Johan said, drawing a sharp stare from Kal. "A hint of peat, but the smokiness and oak really makes the flavor come together. Can I have another?"

David poured Johan another shot.

"Johan, you aren't helping. Yes, Tanner, I have to admit, this is very good! But in summer, people tend to like bitters and pale ales. Hard drinks are better in the fall."

"Which is right around the corner! Just think, you could get the drop on everyone selling it to the taverns in two short months. And remember, with this type of whiskey, letting it sit in its oak barrels for two months will only enhance its flavor."

Kal laughed. "Two months? With Johan here, I'll have none left and not get a lick of work out of him in the mean time! I'll tell you what, I'll give you 3 gold for each cask of whiskey, and 6 gold for your silk."

David pretended to clean his ears. "I'm sorry, Lady Malcoeur. I thought I heard you say 3 gold. My ears must be clogged, because I KNOW you can't be trying to diddle me that much. Or did that include you filling up our hold full of iron and copper too?"

"Oh, spare me, child. How much did you pay for that whiskey? 2 gold and 5 silver?"

David stood up. "Okay, gentlemen. We're done here."

Lady Malcoeur rolled her eyes. "Where else are you going to sell it?"

"We're in port for six days for repairs. I can take it to the taverns myself. Plenty of them down by the docks. It has been fun, m'lady, but I believe Master Segovax has goods to sell."

"Sit down, boy. What do you want for them?"

"A platinum for each bolt of silk, and don't even try to go lower on that. You know you can turn a huge profit in days." David sat back down. "As for the whiskey, there are over 400 shots in each cask. At the taverns, they will sell them for half a silver each. That is 200 silver per cask. I know you will sell it to them for 15 gold, so I figure 13 gold is low enough."

"You've got a deal on the silk, but five gold for the whiskey."

"Then fill our hold with copper and iron free of charge. I know you want to be rid of it! And I won't even charge you for all Johan is drinking. Seven shots, Johan? I understand why Kal doesn't want to keep the whiskey here."

Johan burst out in drunken laughter.

"Alright fine, you've got a deal. I'm taking a bath on this, but your men can come get the ingots in the morning."

David nodded. "Fine. They will bring the whiskey and silk with them.

* * * * * *

After six more days riding, Gabriel and Eleenia were getting close to the new border of Aragil, two days ride from Kheog, the former home of their lifelong friends, the Branvolds. Two more days and they would ride into Lystra. They had hardly said a word to one another in days as the anticipation of seeing their home became palpable.

Up ahead, two figures were standing on the road. They weren't dressed in any kind of guard outfits, but one of them was wearing a flourishing hat with bright red feathers. They were both armed with swords. Eleenia untied her quarterstaff.

"I don't like the looks of them, Gabriel. Robbers, most likely."

"We represent the Church. They don't dare touch us."

They continued to ride on up to the two men, who held their ground.

"Stand aside," Gabriel commanded. "In the name of the Church!"

The man with the hat removed it and bowed. "I'm sorry, m'lord, but there be a tax to get into Aragil. Just a mere ten gold apiece."

Eleenia looked down her nose at the man. "You are oddly dressed for border guards. Perhaps you need the gold to purchase a new uniform?"

"Indeed you are right, ma'am," said the other man. He grabbed hold of Gabriel's horse's reins. "Come on, churcher, hand over the twenty gold or we'll cut off your jumblies. Or maybe we could give you a discount if you let us have a go at this fair lass."

Gabriel kicked the man square in the face with his boot heel, breaking his nose and sending him sprawling on his back. "Be gone with you, vile highwaymen! I have no wish for bloodshed, but press me further and you shall find your head on the ground next to your lifeless corpse!"

"Churcher, you're going to be regretting that!" The man with the hat put two fingers in his mouth and whistled. Five more men rushed out from behind some nearby rocks, armed with knives, swords, axes, and quarterstaffs.

Gabriel drew his sword and jumped down from his horse. The head highwayman took a few steps back and waited for his men.

"El, go!" Gabriel shouted.

Startled, Eleenia took his advice and rode off a fair distance. She wasn't going to abandon him, but needed to get a safe distance away, mainly to give him room. She had seen Gabriel fight, but seven on one might be too much for even a swordsman of his caliber.

The men quickly surrounded Gabriel. The head highwayman once again showed his cocky attitude. "Seven against one, church knight! Hardly a fair fight, eh?"

"Yes, hardly a fair fight. If you want to go get more, I understand."

The robbers broke into laughter.

"Just remember," Gabriel said, looking a few of them in the eye. "You are going to have to kill me before I give up. And for your act of murder, your souls will burn in the fires of hell for all eternity!"

The robbers gave pause and glanced at their leader.

"Bullocks! You could choose to pay up, but instead, you are forcing us to kill you! So your death shall be on your own hands!"

"That makes no sense at all, ruffian. And I promise you, if you attack, I shall be the one walking away from this." Gabriel glanced at the men behind him through their reflections on his polished blade.

"Get 'im!"

Gabriel sprang into action, attacking the two men behind him. Spinning, he thrust out his sword. His momentum carried his blade through the first man's throat, cutting four inches deep, and biting into the shorter man's temple, who dropped like a stone, twitching as Gabriel yanked his sword out of his skull.

Seeing their comrade gurgle his lifeblood out of the gaping wound in his throat, and the other shaking on the ground in a growing puddle of blood like a man with palsy, gave the other four bandits pause.

"Wait!" screamed the man with the broken nose, hauling himself up off the ground. "He's mine!" He charged in at Gabriel, swinging wildly. Gabriel knocked his blows away, jumped to his side, and sliced downwards, taking the man's hands at the wrist. He screamed and fell to the ground.

The axe-wielding bandit took a chop at Gabriel, who stepped back and swung upwards. Another scream met Gabriel's ears as he swung his sword upwards, slicing deep into the man's groin. A quick swipe to his right dragged his sword across the abdomen of a bandit who was wielding two knives, disemboweling him.

The bandit leader stabbed at Gabriel, who batted away his attack and countered with a swing at his neck. His head fell to the ground as his lifeless body crumpled.

"Hold!" one of the last two men screamed at seeing their leader killed. "Spare us! Please, show mercy, mighty Defender!"

"Drop your weapons!" Both men immediately complied.

"As one of the rules of my order is that I must show mercy to all who ask, I shall spare you. However, as punishment for daring attack a man of the Church, remove your clothing.

The two men looked at one another, unsure.

"Now!" Gabriel barked. He gave two quick slices and the men's pants both fell, the rope holding them up cut clean through. "Do it or I shall do it for you."

Both men removed their tunics and boots, stepping out of their pants.

"And your smalls."

Red-faced, they did so, and stood in front of him with their hands over their manhoods.

"Now be off with you." They ran in the direction of Gillingham, past a laughing Eleenia.

* * * * * *

The dungeons of Daggermount were infamous throughout Aragil. Given King Dorian's love of public executions of malcontents and rabble-rousers, many of the cells and torture rooms were now empty, giving Dameus the perfect place to work. Plenty of dark energy residue from the years gone by, and no one to bother him. The last four years had almost been tolerable.

Dameus leaned over the fresh corpse. Another failure. Tolinar was close to producing an undead that retained its soul. He couldn't let Tolinar beat him to it. Four years of failure after failure. One day soon.

A messenger burst into the cold crypt-like torture room. "My lord, I have urgent news!"

"Damn it." He rolled a rag around in his bloody hands. "Well, spit it out!"

The messenger averted his eyes from the necromancer's gaze. Something about him just wasn't natural. "My lord, the children of Alexander and Arianna Ki Kalendeen have entered the borders of Aragil."

Dameus heaved a sigh, looking at his most recent failure. Another distraction. Still, Kadeus' orders were clear. "I don't have time for this," he muttered under his breath. "No matter. We shall go and tell the king, then I assume we shall be transporting to Ironshield to inform General Sagoroth. I suspect there will be a new law written about the children of traitors.

"If they visit their family crypt, they'll be in for a nasty surprise. Now, tell me what you know of these two."

* * * * * *

Later that night, Gabriel stared almost trance-like into the fire, his still-bloodied sword discarded on the ground. "Where are my feelings? I should be wracked with remorse right now for murdering those men."

Eleenia looked up from her history book she was reading by the light of the fire. "Gabriel, had you not killed them, they would have killed you and passed me around the campfire like a bottle of cheap Caledonian whiskey. And you didn't murder them, you killed them."

"Same thing. I broke the sixth Commandment."

"No, you didn't," El replied. "The original Hebrew, 'ratsakh', means the taking of life through murder!"

Gabriel sighed. "I know. And you're right. Deuteronomy 20:16-17 shows that we can kill if commanded. And 13:5! "

"Exactly," El said with a smirk. "So don't fret over it."

"Yes, I know. I shouldn't. I'm turning in."

El noticed that Gabriel didn't clean the blood off of his sword, a weapon he usually kept immaculate. She hoped he would snap out of it soon.

"So what are you going to tell David when you find him?"

Gabriel's eyes lit up a bit. "I hadn't thought of it! I suppose I'll ask him where he has been these last four years and let him know that he is safe now and come back to Avonshire with us." He picked up his sword and absent-mindedly started cleaning it. "I'm sure he will be positively thrilled that we came and found him!"

El smiled. Gabriel would be fine.

* * * * * *

"Remember, Tanner, we sail at first light tomorrow with the morning tide."

"I'll be ready, Captain. I've only got a crate of goods left to sell, and I should have that sold by midday." David stood in the hawking stall in the busy market, getting ready for a day of haggling.

Karinga nodded, and walked off to hire a few last carpenters and sail menders. Truth be told, the ship was ready to go right now, but Karinga wanted everything to be perfect while they were here, as it was to be docked for most likely over a month. They were fully crewed and the ingots were stowed in the hold. The Waverunner was weighed down pretty heavily, with an extra five feet of her under water. The bilgemen would be earning their pay on this journey.

"Step up, ladies and gentlemen! Get some of the best-tasting tinned meats and seafood you've ever tasted! Gylinian sausages so good, they will melt in your mouth! Flaky fish stuffed with crab meat! Come up now and taste a sample!" David started attracting attention, a few people coming up and sampling his wares.

"Tanner! Good to see you again!" said a man in a torn tunic and saggy pants, a black Moorish man at his side.

David's eyes lit up. "Captain Armstrong! How's business?"

"Not as good as yours, it seems! You've really cleaned up here!"

"And how's my favorite Moor today, Cassim?" he said, extending his hand.

"He is well, I am sure. As am I, my friend." the black man said with a wide smile, taking David's hands.

"Setting sail soon?" asked Armstrong.

"Tomorrow. We're off to Port Cirril. You?"

"We are setting off in the Crimson Moon tonight. Down to New Portsmouth to deliver some whiskey, silk, and rum for Lady Malcouer, then we're going to pick up some livestock and bring it back for her."

" And with you fellows heading due west, we won't have to worry as much about running into a guild ship," said Cassim in his deep Moorish accent.

"So," Armstrong said, pointing at the crate of food. "How much for the lot."

"Seven gold."

Armstrong counted out seven gold galleons and plunked them on the wooden table.

"God's wounds, Armstrong, you don't even try to haggle me down! No wonder you're still running errands for merchants. Here!" He handed the crate of food over to him with two of his gold. "And let me see the contract!"

The captain handed David the rolled parchment, which he unrolled and skimmed over. "No bonus for returning early, other than that, the standard rate. Look, you are heading down to New Portsmouth with your hold most likely half filled, correct?"

"Yes, what of it?"

"There is a Snakepox plague there. There is a man around the corner selling aloe extract. Buy some of it, and don't pay more than 2 gold a crate for it. When you get to New Portsmouth, take it to the noble district and sell it for 9 gold and five silver a crate. That will put an extra 70 gold in your purse if you can scrape together 20 gold now."

Armstrong grinned. "Thanks, Tanner," he said, taking back his contract. Always get the best tips from ya."

Cassim picked up the crate of tinned food and headed off towards the Crimson Moon, while Armstrong headed over to the aloe hawker to put David's advice to good use.

David began to close up the stand. Early day for him, and no work until tomorrow. Maybe Kal would let him play with that Orang again! Dropping his bulging coinpurse off with Karinga, David set off towards the warehouse district.

* * * * * *

"There it is, Gabriel. Kheog," El said, motioning to the city walls on the hilltop. "They say it was taken by the forces of Aragil in a matter of hours."

Gabriel nodded. "So I've heard. I hope the border guard doesn't give us much trouble."

"Are you expecting them to?"

"After being attacked in broad daylight? I would honestly be surprised if they did not. People in this region are losing respect for the Church. Still, maybe we shall be blessed."

The two rode on for another half hour before they arrived at the border post, being manned by four guards in traditional purple Aragil uniforms.

"Hold!" one of the guards shouted as they approached the station. "State your business."

"I am Brother Gabriel. A knight of the Holy Defenders. I have been charged with bringing this healer to New Portsmouth.."

"A healer, eh? What's your business in Aragil, girl?"

Eleenia spoke up. "Lady Eddington is sick with the Snakepox. I am to attend to her and see if I can relieve her suffering."

Gabriel shot a surprised look at her, which the guards noticed.

"Oh, he was not aware of my mission. Only that he was to take me to New Portsmouth. I try not to confide in churchers. You understand, don't you?"

The guards laughed. "Indeed we do, miss! Glad to hear that Lady Eddington may be finding some relief. On with you then. Oh, we've heard of some people being robbed along the highway. You didn't meet with any trouble, did you?"

Gabriel spoke up. "You won't have to worry about them, sir. I dispatched them for you."

Eleenia smiled and nodded. "That's why they sent this one with me. Quite the bore by the campfire, but handy with his sword."

The guards laughed once again. "Okay, miss. Thank you for taking care of that little problem. Go on with you. Oh, and if you happen to stay in the city tonight, might I suggest the Golden Dragon? Tell them watch Captain Reardon sent you and you will be well taken care of."

"Thank you, my good man!"

"And keep tight reins on that churcher! We don't need him stirring up trouble here! And best of luck with Lady Eddington!"

When they were well out of earshot, Gabriel brought his horse closer to Eleenia. "What on God's green earth was that about?"

"My dear brother, had I let you do the talking and told our true reason for being here, the trouble you were fearing may have come to pass! You see, back before people realized that the Purple Pox occurred when there were snakes, it was called the Nobleman's Pox. So, it was logical to assume that the lords in New Portsmouth would be afflicted. Lord Richard, however, is a spoiled brat who inherited his father's title two years ago. Had I said it was he who was sick, they may have turned us around, as given his personality, he could not be popular. So I said it was Lady Eddington. Anyway, I heard a rumor about it back in Avonshire. Being forced to marry that popinjay, she would have most certainly won the pity of the nation."

"But why did you humiliate me?"

"I would have thought that was obvious! The fact that we were attacked on the road here, as you pointed out earlier, makes me believe that the Church is falling out of favor with the general populace. Plus, did you see the nasty looks the guards gave you when they saw you? Referring to you without respect gave us something in common, which I played upon."

Gabriel gave a heavy sigh.

"Oh, don't worry, my dear brother. It was all an act. I have the utmost respect for you."

Gabriel smiled. His sister truly did receive father's keen mind, perhaps even surpassing it. Perhaps she didn't need to be looked after as badly as he previously thought.

* * * * * *

It had cost him a silver, but David was once again playing with what he hoped would someday be his very own orang, playing keep away with a half an apple.

Lady Malceour walked into the room, amused at seeing her usually most challenging negotiating adversary playing like the kid she thought he was on their first meeting. "Having fun, Tanner?" she said with a grin.

David turned. "Oh, hi Kal!" The orang took the opportunity and snatched the apple out of David's hand.

"David, I have a question for you. Who are you really?"

David froze, feeling a wave of anxiety wash over him. He chuckled nervously. "Not sure what you mean, Kal."

Lady Malceour folded her arms and began pacing back and forth. David remembered that she only did this when she knew she had the upper hand.

"I'm glad you came back. I didn't want to do this in front of Karinga, or even Johan. Last week, I was negotiating with an emissary from Gylinia's queen, a Master Cohen."

David's anxiety grew to horror at the mention of his former teacher. He did his best to calm himself. "Never heard of him." He turned back to the orang, tickling it on the side of its neck.

"I'm not convinced. You see, up until him, I thought your style of negotiating was unique. And it was thanks to my experience with you that I made any profit at all in my negotiations with him! After we were done, I asked him if he knew you. He said no, that at his rates, he could only be afforded by nobility and royalty for teaching, and a son of a mere leather worker wasn't worthy of his attention. That and all of your obscure knowledge, the way you can do sums in your head, even the fact that you can read and write! I'm going to ask you again, Tanner. Who are you?"

David's hands began to shake. He withdrew them to his side to steady them, disappointing the orang. "I told you. My father is Michael Tanner from Northpoint. He owns a large tannery in the western section."

"Why would it be in the west of Northpoint?" Kal asked. "One would think his shop would be located near the port in the northeast of town so he could buy the cattle coming off the ship."

"My grandfather bought the land before I was born, so he doesn't have to pay rent. He has an arrangement with two pig farmers and he sells the carcasses to butchers. I've told you all of this before, Kal. He makes enough money to have me educated." David turned his attention back to the orang.

"David, I sent Johan to guard a shipment of weapons to Northpoint after my thumping at the hands of Master Cohen. There is no tannery west of Northpoint. Now, last time, who are you?"

Thoughts of undead and necromancers filled David's soul with terror. Would Kal sell him out if she found out who he was? He couldn't take the chance. It was time to leave. Now. He gave the orang one last scratch and stood up. "Well, then perhaps he moved or made enough to retire. I don't know. I haven't been home in many years. Well, if you will excuse me, Captain Karinga needs me back at the ship."

Kal gave him a doubtful look. She gave an exasperated sigh as David beat a hasty retreat out of her warehouse. She'd find out someday.

* * * * * *

Gabriel and Eleenia didn't want to linger in Kheog. People's attitude was quite different here than in Elgannan. There was an almost palpable disgust for Gabriel, and half of the churches had been shuttered. Besides, there were way too many painful childhood memories there, but it was nothing compared to what surely awaited them in Lystra.

"I want to visit the graves," El said. "We never got a chance to pay our respects."

Gabriel nodded. He hadn't spoken much since they entered Aragil. El was a bit worried. When they got to the family crypt and saw David's grave, his hopes would be dashed. But it was the closure she knew deep down inside that he needed.

Being unencumbered by servants and wagons, the normal three day ride to Lystra would only take them two. Plenty of inns along the way, and she was sure she could convince Gabriel to stop at one or two for the night. The novelty of sleeping outside had long since worn off.

* * * * * *

El woke up on the ground next to the spent campfire. She sat up and twisted her torso, stretching her muscles and cracking her back. She looked around. Gabriel was on his knees, saying his morning prayers sword in hand. The horses were already packed up. She was grateful that he did most of the work during the trip. It was good for the soul, he said, but she thought he felt guilty for making her camp so much.

Before sundown, they would be at the crypt. She began to prepare herself for the epic meltdown that was sure to follow his disappointment.

Gabriel got up. "You're awake! Good. I wanted to get started. We'll be in Lystra tomorrow."

El began rolling up her sleeping gear. "Ow," she said, rubbing her back. "Gabriel, can we please stay at an inn tonight? There is that one a few minutes' ride from the crypt. The Hunter's Lodge, remember? Father took us there that one time when we were going to visit the Branvolds."

"The one with all the stuffed animal heads on the walls? I suppose. They had really good stew from what I remember. The owners were pretty old. I wonder if they are still alive or if the inn is even open."

Eleenia chuckled. "Remember how you and Alexander got into a fight with their grandsons? What was that over?"

Gabriel winced. "I don't remember. I just remember the beating we received from Father afterwards. It was difficult to ride the next day!"

"Just to let you know, Father was impressed that you two took on four kids almost twice your size. I hope they haven't taken over the inn. Or if they do, they don't remember us."

"There are plenty of other places to stay if they do."

El gave a sigh of relief. They were sleeping at an inn tonight.

* * * * * *

David woke to the sounds of commotion on deck. Usually he was up with the sun, but on the first day at sea, the rocking of the boat usually kept him in bed a little longer. He put on his sea pants and boots, ran his fingers through his blonde hair, and got up.

When he stepped outside, the first thing he noticed was the coastline of Decia on the Larboard side. Something was terribly wrong. He quickly ran over to and up the ladder to the Quarterdeck. Fike was at the helm, while Karinga, Dunkirk, and Edge were conferring with Quenton. "What's going on?" David asked.

Karinga turned to him. "Oh, good, you're up. Helmsman and the night watchman have disappeared, the wheel was covered in blood, and we are headed due south. Someone tied a rope to the helm to steady it."

"A guild saboteur?" David asked.

"At least one," Fyke said as he turned the bloodied wheel to starboard. The Waverunner sluggishly responded as the ship turned westward.

"Tanner, get someone to clean that helm and the deck. Edge, I want the night watch quadrupled. Dunkirk, try to keep the crew calm. Last thing we need is them chalking it up to ghosts or sea monsters."

"Aye, sir," the officers responded, as they each went off to do their appointed tasks.

David was glad they were resuming course to Port Cirill. With Lystra so close by, there would be little market for their ingots in New Portsmouth.

* * * * * *

The horses nickered nervously as Gabriel and Eleenia arrived at the Ki Kalendeen family crypt. El jumped down off of her horse and tried to calm it. She noticed that the crypt, which was dug into the side of a steep hill, was remarkably well maintained and that there were cut lilies not two days old laying outside of the ancient stone door.

"Gabriel," she said. She looked up at her brother and noticed he was staring at the crypt, his eyes wide. "What's wrong?"

"El, don't go inside. Something is terribly wrong here."

"Oh, don't be silly. Please, Gabriel, I want to pay my respect and show you David's grave."

Gabriel jumped down off of his horse. "I can feel it. There is a darkness here, an evil. Dear God, I can almost taste it!"

El grabbed her quarterstaff, lantern, and a pack of sulfursticks from her pouch. She struck the sulfurstick against the rock door and lit the hooded lantern. "I'm going inside. Help me open the door."

Gabriel gave an exasperated sigh. "Fine. Stand back." He dialed the three locks to the correct position, 7-7-7, and after the telltale clicks, he pulled the large stone open.

Eleenia thanked her brother and walked inside, expecting to be struck by the smell of musty mold, but even the inside of the crypt was well maintained. No cobwebs or rat skeletons to be found. Who had been maintaining the Ki Kalendeen family crypt all these last four years? Could Gabriel be right? Could it be David? There was only one way to find out. El made her way to the newest section of the crypt, which was freshly dug to the right side of the family sigil, a large silver eagle overlaid with a cross, which marked the floor at the center of the crypt. After passing the two previous generations, she entered the chamber that held her father, mother, and siblings.

Sadness fell over her as she saw the double tomb that contained the mortal shells of her mother and father. The double tomb was very beautiful; it must have taken the carvers months to do. The bodies had been laid side by side, holding hands, a practice that was almost unheard of, as it signified them as equals. She gently ran her hand over the sarcophagus, but it was dust free.

She continued on, to Alexander's tomb. Oh, her dearest older brother! She remembered the times that she and David had played pranks on him and Mareth. Good natured as it may have been, she now felt a pang of regret.

Beyond that was David's casket. David had been her best friend growing up, her baby brother, and her partner in crime. She openly wept and she fell to her knees at the memories they had shared. Gabriel would be crushed. This journey had been in vain, but Gabriel would continue his fool's errand, she was sure of it. At least she would get to examine the Snakepox in New Portsmouth, perhaps even get to make a difference. The healers from the south were notorious for their superstition and their insistence on clinging to the outdated old ways of healing. Bloodletting and leeches, while they had their place, were not the cure for everything.

Suddenly, there was an explosion of rocks. When the dust cleared, two skeletons armed with swords stood before her.

Eleenia began to panic as the wall of logical reason that she used to shield herself came crashing down. "GABRIEL!!!" she screamed, as she raised her quarterstaff to defend herself.

The skeletons moved like lightning and were on her in a matter of seconds. She tried to overcome her fear and call Janelle's lessons to mind. She moved around David's tomb and put her back to the wall. She did her best to deflect the rapid blows of the undead horrors, but it soon became evident that she would not be able to get any offensive strikes in.

In a flash of blue light, the skeleton on her left was cleaved in half, skull to pelvis. The hollow eyes of her remaining opponent turned to its new and far more dangerous threat. Gabriel stood, sword in hand, with an intensity and holy wrath in his eyes. The skeleton swung at Gabriel's left. The attack was knocked aside and Gabriel quickly countered, removing the skeleton's sword arm, leaving its sword to fall to the stone floor with a clank. Gabriel raised his sword, which had started to glow blue, and he smashed it through the center of the skeleton, causing it to fall into two inert halves.

Eleenia stood still in shock as Gabriel replaced his sword into his scabbard.

"Before we leave, I am going to have to sanctify the ground. Someone must have cursed it to allow these abominations to step inside. I think they were placed there specifically to target us,"

Eleenia let out a blood curdling scream. "Gabriel! What were those things? How is that even possible?" she said as she started to sob, the new reality that had been thrust upon her being too much for her to handle.

Gabriel walked around the casket and put his arm around his little sister. "Come on. The sanctifying can wait. We are less than 100 legs from The Hunter's Lodge tavern. I'll get you some sweet wine to calm your nerves."

* * * * * *

Minutes later, they rounded the corner. However, the inn that stood where The Hunting Lodge had stood had been renamed. "The Happy Basset?" Gabriel remarked. "That logo looks like Father's scent hound, Jake!"

Eleenia, still trying to compose herself, looked up. "Yes, it does."

They rode their horses over to the water-filled trough and Gabriel tied them to the post. He helped Eleenia down. They walked into the tavern, taking a few seconds to allow their eyes to adjust to the relative darkness.

A gasp met their ears, followed by a crash as a tray full of empty mugs fell to the floor. "Me poppins! ME POPPINS!!!" They were suddenly both enveloped by a hug from an older woman.

"Nana Jolina!" Gabriel cried out. "Praise be to God you survived!"

Jolina reluctantly released them. "Drake!" she shouted turning around, "Get your behind out here! It's Gabriel and Eleenia! They've come back!!!"

A short-legged hound dog came over to them, sniffed them, and started to whimper, tail flailing back and forth.

"Jake!" Gabriel said, bending down and scratching the hound, who immediately rolled onto his back in both submission and to get a belly scratch. "At least now we know who has been maintaining the crypt!" The dogs left rear leg started to rotate wildly as Gabriel found his tickle spot. "Oh Jake, the adventures we used to have together."

Drake dashed out from the back. Various stains dotted his off-white apron, which he quickly flung off. "Bless my soul! You two are a sight for very tired eyes!" Tears began to well up in the eyes of Lord Ki Kalendeen's most faithful and honored servant. "Let me get us all some stew and ale... and sweet wine for my sweet Eleenia."

* * * * * *

Eleenia had finally composed herself and she began eating the venison stew. Drake had become quite the cook over the last four years. The other three had eaten as Gabriel told them of the events in the crypt over dinner. After a few bites, Eleenia decided she wasn't hungry. A smile cracked her lips as the hound sat wagging its tail, staring at her with his head cocked expectantly to the side.

"Drake, I apologize, but I'm not that hungry. Would it be alright if I gave my stew to Jake?"

"Ah, go ahead. That dog is already spoiled rotten, and it will save me from having to chop up some more meat for him."

Eleenia sat the bowl on the ground, which Jake began to eat ever so daintily. Obviously, Eleenia thought, this dog has never had to wonder where its next meal was coming from.

"So," Gabriel said, "it looks as though you two have done quite well for yourselves."

Jolina and Drake exchanged nervous glances. "Gabriel," Jolina said, "I want to apologize, but after the attack, Drake and I were the first ones back to the castle. We took all of the valuables we could find in order to protect them from looters, but we sold a few in order to buy the tavern and get started."

Gabriel smiled. "Nana, after the wonderful surprise of seeing the family crypt maintained, you've earned more than that."

Drake and Jolina sighed with relief. "Oh, Gabriel, thank you," his former nanny said. "I've always loved your family as if they were my own, and I wanted to hold the valuables until the house of Ki Kalendeen was restored as the rightful lords of Lystra."

Eleenia glanced over and put her hand on Gabriel's arm. "Nana, I don't think there will be another lord of Lystra from the house of Ki Kalendeen. I saw David's grave in the tomb."

Jolina motioned for them to come closer. "Poppin, we buried a body in that grave, but it wasn't David."

Eleenia's mouth fell open with disbelief. "What?!?"

Gabriel beamed. "I knew it. That is why we are here. We are heading down to New Portsmouth to retrieve him."

"Wait, wait, wait! How did you know it wasn't David?"

Jolina smiled. "The body's face was charred beyond recognition, but when we undressed the body, the scar that Liam gave him, the one you stitched so skillfully, wasn't there."

"But why didn't he contact us? Where is he?"

Jolina put her hand on Eleenia's. "Poppin, he has his reasons, and we must respect them. He'll let us know in his own good time when he is ready to come back." She leaned back. "Going to get him, are you? Maybe seeing his family will cause him to come out of hiding. Oh, Gabriel. It is hard to believe the man I see before me is the little boy whose smalls I changed for four years."

Gabriel blushed as Eleenia laughed. "Four years? Really, brother?"

Jolina shook her finger at Eleenia. "Don't you be getting too full of yourself, miss 'I didn't talk until I was five.' Your mother was ready to call in an exorcist!"

Gabriel snickered. "What were her first words?"

Jolina smiled. "'Nana, how can I read?' Now come here, I have something to show you."

Gabriel downed the rest of his ale and the four got up. Jake, having finished the stew, stepped in place right behind Gabriel.

Eleenia frowned. "Oh, I feed you and you follow him. I see how it is."

The group made their way through the common area, in through the kitchen, to a room next to the larder. Drake pulled out a ring of keys, quickly sorted through them, and inserted a large iron key into the lock. After a loud click, he grabbed a nearby torch and opened the sturdy oak door.

The first thing that Gabriel and Eleenia saw was the large painting of their entire family, which their father had commissioned the summer before Gabriel had been sent to the university.

"Oh, Nana," Eleenia said, "I can't believe you saved it! Thank you so much!" She brought her hands up to her face and tried to choke down tears. Throughout the rest of the room were piles of gold candle holders, suits of armor from their father's courtroom, various objects of art, sterling silver cutlery, Lady Ki Kalendeen's collection of antique plates, finely crafted weapons, and almost everything else of real value that their family had around the castle, even Eleenia's elaborate dollhouse that had been passed down through three generations.

"You say you sold some of it? By the looks of this room, you didn't sell much," said Gabriel.

Drake put his hand on Gabriel's shoulder. "It was just a few gold and diamond candelabras. We swore we would eventually buy back replacements."

Gabriel smiled. "I, as eldest of the house Ki Kalendeen, release you from that vow. In fact, if you find yourself in need or want, feel free to sell more. Just please keep the doll house and the family portrait."

Jolina and Drake smiled at one another.

"I've always loved your family, Gabriel, as if they were my own."

"Nana, as far as I'm concerned, you and Drake are family." They all hugged once again as the shadows from the setting sun moved across the room.

* * * * * *

David had taken up his usual nighttime spot at the bow of the ship. As he grew older, he no longer sat out on the jib. Leaning against the rail was enough. Most of the crew were turning in, and the sound of the gentle waves hitting the hull of the Waverunner and the occasional flap of the sail were the only things he could hear. Whoever the carpenters were that Karinga had hired were good. The ship no longer creaked as it raised and lowered cutting through the water. Then again, it might just be the fact that they were so loaded down. He decided to purchase a book on shipbuilding when they arrived at Port Cirril so he would have something to occupy his mind while they hid in Bor De Le Maer.

Again and again he had rolled the scenario of the disappearance of two crewman the other night in his head. He kept coming up empty. Everyone was a suspect. He realized that other than one of the higher ranking non-officer members of the crew who had grown wealthy enough to retire, that was the first time they had lost a crew member since the night of his first meeting with Lady Malceour.

He closed his eyes, leaned against the rail, and let his thoughts wander. For a second he thought he heard some voices shouting in the distance. Wrinkling his brow, he turned his right ear to the sea and struggled to listen.

Yes, there it was a again! Quenton had the best hearing by far of the officers, so David ran down to the forecastle and pounded on his door. "Quenton, wake up! I need you."

The door cracked open slightly. "Davey, are you alright? Did you hurt yourself?"

"No, I need your ears. I thought I heard some shouting out at sea."

Quenton opened his door, stepped out, and closed it behind him. "Up by the jib, I would guess?"

"Yes. It sounded like people shouting, possibly for help."

The two men made their way up the ladder to the foredeck. Quenton strolled to the edge of the bow and leaned his head over the jib. "Now quiet, Tanner."

David stood quietly, scarcely breathing.

Quenton's eyes went wide. "Captain Karinga!" he shouted at the top of his lungs. "Captain!"

Karinga and other members of the crew strode out of their quarters. "What is it, Quenton?"

"Shipwreck, about ten to twenty degrees off of the port bow. Not sure how far."

Karinga nodded. "Helm! 15 degrees to port," he shouted.

"15 degrees port, aye aye, Captain!"

The officers waited by the jib, listening. Slowly the sounds grew louder until they could make out audible cries for help.

"5 degrees starboard, helm!"

"5 degrees, aye"

"Dunkirk, stand by at the anchor. I don't want to run into them."

The voices got louder until they changed from cries of help to shouts of joy.

"I guess they see us," said Fyke.

"Aye, Corwyn, that they have. Dunkirk! Two minutes, then reef the sails and drop anchor."

Two minutes later they were able to see a crew of about 35 to 40 men in the water clinging to driftwood. The Waverunner dropped their rope ladders as the overjoyed men began to climb up.

David was midship on the port side, helping the stranded sailors onto the ship. He reached down and a black hand grasped his. A feeling of dread came over him as he pulled the Moor up to the deck. "Oh no, Cassim! What happened to the Crimson Moon?"

The soaked Moore wrung out his clothes as they stepped away from the ladder. "It was Commodore Donegal with the GS Intrepid. They attacked this morning. They ordered us to surrender, which Captain Armstrong did. When they got on board, they captured the captain, took our cargo, and scuttled the ship. They left us here to die. It is a fortunate thing that you came along when you did."

"I'm sorry, my friend. Let's get the rest of your crew on board and we'll get you lads something to eat. You must be starving."

"Thank you, David Tanner. You are a true friend, and I owe you a blood debt."

"Well, let's not get ahead of ourselves there." David slapped him on the back and they both fell into laughter.

* * * * * *

Gabriel had risen before sunrise, removed the bits of shattered skeleton, sanctified the crypt, and readied their horses. It didn't come as a surprise that Drake had completely restocked their traveling food and water. He even put a small cask of ale in Gabriel's pack and a cask of sweet wine for Eleenia. Jake had slept with Gabriel the night before, and as he always had done, he hogged the bed, pushing Gabriel to the very edge. The hound sat watching him pack, his tail wagging.

"I'm sorry, boy, I can't take you with me. Drake and Jolina are your masters now."

The dog launched into a heart-string tugging whimper.

When he went back into the tavern, Jolina was setting four places at the large table. The other guests weren't awake yet. The plates were packed with eggs, bacon, steaming sweet rolls, and sausages.

"Thank you, Nana. Your hospitality has been very refreshing since we arrived in Aragil."

Jolina didn't meet his gaze. "Poppin, things have changed. I'm sure you know that the Defenders have been pushed out of Aragil. The town watch has been disbanded and their duties have been taken over by the Aragil army. It has gotten so bad that most churches have gone underground. Two years ago, one of the priests who had been critical of the monarchy had his mass trampled upon by the king's men. The priest and half of the parishioners were slaughtered, and the others were marched off to Ironshield and haven't been heard from since. You had best avoid Lystra and take a riverboat straight down to New Portsmouth. You can be there tomorrow afternoon."

"What happened to the family castle?"

"It is still there, abandoned. The king put one of his lackeys in as the Lord of Kheog. Lord Quinn rules Lystra through the captain of the legion stationed there. The captain is brutal, but as long as the citizens produce their quota of steel goods, he generally leaves us alone." Jolina looked up as Eleenia groggily walked down the stairs. "How did you sleep, dear?"

"Like a baby. I woke up screaming every two hours. It is still difficult from me to rationalize those skeletons that attacked us yesterday," Eleenia said, wiping the sleep from her eyes. She sat down, and Jake took up his place next to her.

"Maybe you shouldn't try to rationalize it, sister."

Eleenia nodded and took a drink of the apple juice that Jolina had set out.

An hour later, they were saying their goodbyes at the door.

"When you find him, please bring David by to see us."

"We will, Nana," Gabriel said, giving his former nanny a hug.

* * * * * *

David made his way across the damp deck, picking his way through the sleeping bodies that crowded the deck. With their hold full of ingots, there was no other place for the extra men to sleep. Some of the Waverunner crew had given up their beds to the men who were a little worse off, and more had volunteered to, but most of the Crimson Moon's crew had refused. David had allowed Cassim to share his cabin, but when he woke up, the Moor had gone. The note he left read "You are very flatulent in your sleep, my friend. I shall sleep with my crew."

The morning was unseasonably cold for late Summerlight, and there was a deep fog over the ocean. David took his usual place at the jib rail. The fog was so thick, he could only see about 30 legs ahead of them. No matter, he thought. The sun will be up in a few minutes and it would burn it away.

He was a bit upset that Karinga had decided to bypass Port Cirril and head right to Bor De La Maer. The iron and copper would fetch far fewer coins there. But he understood Karinga's reasoning. With the guild getting more ballsy, outright attacking independent ships, it was best to lay low as soon as possible.

Donegal was the guild's main enforcer and Gaeceric's right hand man. He was a vicious captain, and his ship carried 130 able-bodied men and officers. Guild sailors were the lowest of the low, willing to do anything for a handful of silvers. With them in the area, Karinga had good reason to be cautious.

For a brief second, David caught a glimpse of the top of a main-mast flying guild colors. Time to wake the captain, he thought.

Quietly, David made his way through the sleeping men to Karinga's cabin. He gave three quick knocks on the door. "Captain, are you awake?"

Karinga stood up from his desk and opened the door. "David, please by all means, come in."

"Captain, there's no time. We have a guild ship dead ahead of us. I'm thinking it may be the Intrepid."

The color drained from Karinga's face. "Tell the helmsman to do a 180 and fetch the officers. This fog won't hide us for long. Get Cassim in here and keep the crews quiet!"

David ran up and relayed the captain's orders to the helmsman, then spent the next few minutes gathering the officers and Cassim. The seven of them stood before Karinga's desk in the captain's quarters.

"Gentleman," Karinga said, "We have a problem. It would seem that a guild ship in the area. So far, it hasn't spotted us, thanks to the fog, but I don't want to depend on random chance for our lives. Yeoman Tanner believes it to be the Intrepid. If Donegal gets us, we are as good as dead. Cassim, please tell us about the Intrepid."

"Large, three mast frigate, crew of about 130," replied the Moore.

"The way I look at it men, we have two options. We are faster than the Intrepid, but with our hull full of ingots, it could easily run us down. We could dump the cargo and outrun it, or if it catches us, fight. I want your opinions." Karinga looked expectantly at his men.

"Dump the cargo and run," said Fyke. "With our crew of 45, they'll outnumber us over three to one."

"I agree with Corwyn," replied Dunkirk. "Dump the cargo and run."

Edge nodded. "I hate to say it, but yes, dump the cargo and run."

"I say dump the cargo and run," said Quenton.

"Dump the cargo and run," replied Doc.

"Cassim? Your fate is in the balance too, so I want your advice," Karinga said.

"I've seen what those pig-waste bastards will do to you. Throw the cargo overboard and run."

"And Yeoman Tanner." Karinga looked at David, expecting the same reply.

"I say we turn around, hunt them down, and fight."

Seven pairs of shocked eyes fell on the Yeoman. Karinga stood up, a bit caught off guard. "I would very much like to hear your reasoning, David."

"Captain, they have 130 men. Sure we have a crew of 45, but we also have the 39 men we rescued. Put swords in their hands and their odds are cut more than in half! Plus, the Crimson Moon was carrying whiskey! You know the type the guild hires. They would have heavily partaken in celebration last night. This early in the morning, they'll still be drunk!"

"I don't have enough medical supplies aboard to treat all the injuries," protested Quenton.

"Cassim, did Armstrong buy the aloe like I suggested?"

"Indeed he did."

"In addition to the whisky, the Crimson Moon was carrying silk. We could rip up half a bolt and use it as bandages. Plus, Kal will be in our debt if we make her delivery to New Portsmouth.

"Not only that, but think of what it will do to the morale of the guild! Their best ship, not only beaten in battle, but taken by a merchant's crew and Gaeceric's right-hand man utterly humiliated! I say we take the ship, kill as many of the crew as we need to, and send Donegal and the survivors off in the lifeboats stripped naked!"

Karinga turned and stared out of the large window at the rear of the ship. "Edge, do you think it will work?"

"If they are drunk, as Tanner says, we'll slaughter them. I'll inform the crew to strike at the side of their heads instead of overhand. Their peripheral vision should still be all messed up," replied the Jimmy-legs.

"Captain!" a voice shouted from outside. "Guild ship off starboard bow! It's the Intrepid! It looks like they want to ram us!"

Karinga stood for a second, still pondering, and then a huge, confident smile crossed his face. "Break out the weapons and the scarves! Prepare to repel borders!"

Within seconds, the deck was alive with commotion. Men darted back and forth, getting ready for the fight, tying the green scarves on each of their arms, marking them as members of the Waverunner's crew. Twenty archers stood against the starboard rail as the large ramming boom that doubled as the jib mast inched closer. David went with Karinga and Fyke up to the helm.

Karinga stared through his looking glass at the ship. "Wow, they really are drunk. A couple of men are even losing their breakfasts over the side. As they get closer, turn to port so they coast up next to us."

Fyke tapped Karinga on the shoulder. "Let's have a look-see, Jax." Karinga handed the glass to his first mate. "It seems as though they have a ballista mounted on each side. They are taking a shot!"

The bolt landed a good 40 legs from the ship, causing David to smirk. He had been right.

The Intrepid bore down closer to the Waverunner. "Okay, helmsman, hard to port."

The helmsman spun the wheel to the left, but instead of turning, the rope that ran over the helm, down through the bilge pump room to the ship's rudder fell limply down one of the small holes, having been cut.

"Holy balls!" Karinga screamed. "Dunkirk, Fyke, Tanner, get down there and get that rope fixed! Now!"

"Aye, Captain," they all said, and bolted down ladder to the main deck, then down the stairs to the bilge room. David reached the room first as his boots splashed down into almost knee deep red-tinted water. Floating face down in the bilge were the three bilge pumpers. David made his way over to one and turned him over, revealing his throat had been slit.

David heard two splashes behind him. "God's wounds!" Fyke said. "What the bloody hell happened here?"

"They've been cut ear to ear!" David replied.

Dunkirk fished one of the ends of the rope from the water. "David, run up to the helm. When I hand you the rope through the right-side hole, loop it over the helm and drop it down to me through the left. Then come stand by the stairs so you can relay to the Captain when we're done."

"Aye, sir," David replied. He darted up to the helm, pausing to look at the Intrepid. They had a little over a minute before they would be rammed. He could hear the shouts of the enemy crew.

A piece of rope stuck through the left-hand hole, which David grabbed. He looked at it for a brief second. It had been cleanly cut. He quickly looped it over the wheel and threaded it down the other hole. The wheel spun as Dunkirk pulled the slack. David ran down and stood atop the stairs. The jib ram drew closer.

A deck hand came to David and presented him with his knuckle dagger and saber. "Cap'n said to fetch these for ya, sir!"

"Good job," David said to the young lad, who he estimated was about the same age he was when he came on board. "Gather two other deck hands. After you hear me yell, run down into the bilge room and start working on those pumps or we could sink."

"Aye, sir!" The boy ran off towards the front of the ship.

David tied his sheath belt around his waist. The Intrepid was almost upon them. This was going to be close.

"Now, Tanner!" Fyke shouted.

"Now, Captain!" David replied.

The helmsman turned the ship hard to port, but the jib ram had already passed over the rail and tangled in the rigging. Ropes snapped and lashed down onto the deck as some of the sails tore and others flapped free in the wind. The Waverunner was at about a 45 degree angle when the ram struck the main mast. David grabbed hold of the ladder as the ship was pushed and tilted. All around, men slid down the deck towards the port rail. Those that could find something to hold onto stopped their slide. Others hit hard on the rail.

The main mast began to splinter and crack as the Waverunner continued to be pushed. It was a good thing their hold was filled with ingots and weighed down or surely they would have capsized, David thought.

Suddenly, the ram slipped off of the main mast as the Waverunner turned parallel to the Intrepid. The ship lurched to starboard. The momentum snapped the main mast, which fell through the rigging onto the deck of the Intrepid, pulling down sails and their rear mast. Both ships were crippled.

David released his white-knuckled death grip from the ladder. Already grapples were grabbing on to the remaining rigging as the guild sailors prepared to swing over.

"Battle stations!" Karinga screamed.

David drew his weapons and braced himself in the fighting stance Edge had shown him as men from the other crew started to swing across amid a small barrage of arrows.

One of the enemy was headed straight for him. David stepped to his left and swung hard with his saber as the man passed. It bit deep into his abdomen, spilling his guts on the deck as David yanked his sword free. He spun around as one of the other crew landed hard on the deck and stumbled to his knee. David swung, removing the man's head from his shoulders. Sounds of battle echoed around him as he engaged another enemy.

David looked into his eyes and could tell he wasn't drunk or hung over. Most likely an officer, he thought. David parried the hard, straight down blow, knocking the man's longsword to the side. David countered and stabbed him between the ribs with the dagger he held in his left hand, and then kicked him hard between the legs.

The enemy officer let out a short scream, which ended abruptly as David's saber sliced into his left lung.

A large bolt slammed into the deck next to him. He glanced up and saw three men reloading the ballista, the gunner's eyes on him.

"Tanner," Karinga shouted down to him. "Take two men over there and disable that ballista!" He was immediately set upon by another opponent.

David, while sheathing his weapons, picked out two of the crew who had just finished gutting their opponents. "You two, with me!"

The three men ran across to the bow side of the main deck. A scream came from one of the men as a bolt punctured his thigh. David and his other companion didn't slow down. They reached a spot that would put them on the forecastle of the Intrepid. They grabbed some discarded grappling hooks, took hold of the rope, and threw them. David's caught on some rigging while the grapple the other crewman had splashed into the sea, having missed its mark. He began to reel it back up as David climbed to the rail and swung across.

He landed gracefully against the hull of the larger ship and climbed to the rail, jumping over it.

"Hey!" an unarmed deck hand a few years his junior said, running over to him.

David pulled out his knuckle dagger and punched the younger boy in the sternum, following up with a roundhouse punch to the temple. The deck hand dropped like a sack of potatoes.

He walked quietly to the foredeck rail. The ballista men were unaware of him. David drew his saber and propelled himself over the rail onto the deck below. Before they could turn around, one of their heads fell to the ground. David sliced through another's abdomen as the man was drawing his weapon. The final gunner took a hard swing at David, which he sidestepped. Looking into the man's eyes, David could tell he was still sloshed. He swung sideways, the sword biting into the man's temple before he ever saw it coming.

He motioned to Karinga who waved back to him. The battle seemed to be going well. Very few men with green scarves were down.

David made his way towards the stern of the ship, a wary eye out for any other crew left behind. He tested the door to the Captain's quarters. They were not locked. Donegal was an overconfident fool. He kicked the door open, imagining the image he projected. The Commodore would see an armed silhouette with sunlight pouring in behind him.

Donegal sprung up from behind his desk.

"Guild filth, I demand your immediate surrender!"

"Tanner?" Donegal said. He quickly glanced around for his sword, which lay about 3 legs from him.

David took a menacing step forward. "Reach for it... Please!"

For a few tense seconds, Donegal considered his options. Those impertinent plebes would die for this. He decided to feign surrender. His crew would come to his rescue and slaughter Karinga's men. He faked a sigh and put his hands up. "I know you won't kill me, Tanner."

"I don't have to kill you, Commodore." David punched the guild captain right in his temple with his knuckle dagger. While not knocking him unconscious, Donegal was stunned and disoriented.

"Where is Captain Armstrong?" David demanded.

"He... got away." It was difficult for the Donegal to put a sentence together. "Stole 150 platinum... Took a lifeboat."

David put away his cutlass and grabbed Donegal by his hair. "Come on," he said, putting his dagger blade to the Commodore's throat. He dragged the staggering man out into the sunlight.

They were greeted with a loud cheer from the crew of the Waverunner. Bodies, guts, and limbs of guild sailors littered the deck. Edge had been right. It was a slaughter.

"Tanner's captured Donegal!" someone screamed. The crew erupted into a few round of cheering.

David smiled. "Alright, Commodore. Strip."

* * * * * *

As the rest of the crew cleaned the bodies, blood, and guts off of the deck of the Waverunner, David surveyed the hold of the Intrepid. The ships had been lashed together so more damage wasn't done by the tangled rigging, and they were adrift. David figured they would head to the closest port, New Portsmouth, as the current would carry them in that direction before the ships could be somewhat sea worthy again.

The merchandise they had sold to Lady Malceour was here, although the guild sailors had made quite a dent in the whiskey. Still, a vast majority of the supply was here. The idiots hadn't set the silk up out of the bilge, so it wouldn't be of any use other than to Quenton as bandages. The aloe would fetch a handsome price in New Portsmouth with the Snakepox epidemic.

David moved through the dark hold, checking the contents of the other crates. Donegal had been busy. Timber, dried meats, weapons, cider, medicines, poisons, Iberian nightshade, even a case of dreamdust was in the hold. That he would recommend Karinga dump overboard, as it was an illegal commodity. Traders had made fortunes on it, only to have their entire livelihoods ripped away when they were caught.

Some men came down the staircase carrying lanterns. Fyke was with them. "Hey, David! We're just here to get the silk and some aloe for Quenton."

David motioned to where they were. Fyke picked his way through the crates over to the young Yeoman.

"I spoke to Karinga. Once we get the ships refit in New Portsmouth, he is going to use this ship as his main transport. Makes sense, I suppose." Fyke took his hat off and ran his fingers through his tangled hair. "I'm buying the Waverunner from him."

"Oh? You can afford that much?"

"Aye. You've made us very wealthy, David. In fact, I want you to stay aboard as my first mate."

David stopped rustling around in the crate. "Are you serious?"

"Very serious. You have a keen mind, and while you've taught me enough that I could get by on my own, I'd much rather have you at my side."

"I'll have to think on that, Cor."

"Of course. When you are done here, the Captain wants to see you."

Fyke turned and picked his way back through the cargo. David sat down on an unopened and unmarked crate. He wasn't sure how he felt about the changes that had just been thrust upon him. He had never considered that the crew might someday break up before he was ready to leave. He liked the way things were. He was only responsible for the financial aspects of the ship, and he liked it that way. Being first mate, he would have a lot more responsibility. Sure there would be more gold, but would the change of his quality of his life be worth it? It would be over a week before they made it to New Portsmouth, so he had time to make his decision.

* * * * * *

Gabriel and Eleenia were waiting in line to get into New Portsmouth. They had encountered quite a bit of hostility, as Jolina had told them to expect.

"It is hard to accept that David might be alive," Eleenia said. "The only reason I can think of that he hasn't contacted us is that he is in hiding. Bishop Malachi believes that the attack was to wipe out our family lines."

"Whatever his reasons, he will have us to protect him now." Gabriel kicked at a small snake that slithered towards him.

Eleenia rolled her eyes. "Gabriel, if he has been out in the world alone for the past four years, I'm sure he has learned how to take care of himself. I highly doubt he will need us."

Gabriel nodded. "Perhaps you are right. However, it will be good to have him with us. At least he will be there to keep you out of trouble if I am ever sent away."

Eleenia laughed. "You must not remember much about me and David being together."

Gabriel smiled with fondness. "Yes, you two brought quite a bit of punishment upon yourselves with your antics. Especially when we were with the Branvolds! And with Liam living in Avonshire..."

"Liam has changed. Although seeing David might help him snap out of the malaise he's been in."

The guard at the gate motioned for them to come forward. "What's your business here, Churcher?"

"I am escorting this healer from Avonshire. Word has reached us that you have a plague of Snakepox," replied Gabriel.

The guard nodded and gestured for them to go inside.

This was the first time either of them had been to New Portsmouth, in spite of it being so close to their childhood home. The first thing Gabriel noticed was the pattern of the almost random streets, far less ordered than the carefully planned grid streets of Lystra and Avonshire.

"Are you hungry, El?"

Eleenia nodded. "We should go deeper into the city. Inns by the gate and those by the harbor will most likely charge more and have lower quality food."

"Good idea," Gabriel replied. "I'll ask someone." Gabriel picked a person who was fairly well dressed who didn't have purple pock marks on him. "Excuse me, sir, what inn serves the best food in New Portsmouth?"

The man glanced down at Gabriel's cross emblem on his tunic that marked him as a Holy Defender. "That would be the Randy Lass down by the docks," he said with a smirk.

"Thank you, my good man."

As they walked, Eleenia studied the people they came across. Several of them had Snakepox, but she noticed that the beggars and lower-class people generally didn't. The merchants and wealthier people often times did. 'I wonder if there is a connection,' she thought. Several of the stalls along Market Street were empty.

She pointed one out to Gabriel. "I wonder if the owner of that stall caught Snakepox. Why else would it be empty on such a beautiful day?"

Gabriel shrugged. "Possibly. After we eat, we'll get you set up near the Eddington's manor. I'll find us a place to sleep, preferably close by."

"Good. I am anxious to get to work."

About two blocks from the docks, they found the Randy Lass. Gabriel opened the door for Eleenia and they went inside. It took a few minutes for their eyes to adjust to the darkness.

"Two, m'lord?" asked a woman in a low-cut blouse and short skirt.

"Yes, please."

She took them over to a table near the unlit hearth. She cocked her head and stared at Gabriel. "Have you ever been here, m'lord? You look extremely familiar."

"No, I haven't. What do you have on tap?"

"Right now, we have some Gylinean dark beer and an Ulsterian stout," she replied.

"Ulsterian stout and a sweet wine for my sister," Gabriel said.

The tavern maid's eyes lit up "Oh, your sister is she?"

El chuckled as Gabriel turned crimson. "Well, um, I mean, I'm flattered and all, but I'm a Knight of the Holy Defenders."

She shrugged. "So? I was with a priest the other night. Here in Aragil, we don't stick with those old high and mighty morals. So what say you, love? An after dinner tumble? I've always wanted to see how a church knight performed." All eyes in the tavern turned to Gabriel.

El tried to hold in the laughter as her brother looked like he wanted to crawl under the table.

"Um, no, thank you. I will stick to my vows."

"Your loss, sweetie!" she said as she made her way to the bar.

Gabriel leveled his gaze to the still-giggling Eleenia. "We could have gone to the Randy Dandy one block up, you know."

"Oh, please. If someone had been that lewd with me, you would have gut them."

An older man, arms covered in purple splotches, brought their drinks over.

Eleenia brought her hand up to her mouth and gasped.

"Don't worry, its not contagious," he said.

"Its not that, sir," Eleenia said. "I am a healer from Avonshire. I was wondering if you would let me examine you."

"How much is this going to cost me?"

"Nothing, sir. I am here at the request of the University."

The man smiled. "That's just my price, young lady."

"Good. Can we go somewhere with a little more light?"
"Certainly. I have a window on my west wall in my bedchamber, so the sun lights it in the evening."

Gabriel stared daggers at the proprietor of the tavern. "El, I'm not comfortable with that."

Eleenia nodded. "I agree. Would it be alright if my brother were to come with us?"

The man shrugged. "Fine by me. Lionel Cooper be my name."

"I'm Eleenia and this is Brother Gabriel."

"Ah! Like Lord Ki Kalendeen's children!"

Gabriel smiled. "We are Lord Ki Kalendeen's children, God rest his soul."

They made their way back through the kitchen to the owner's personal chamber. It was a modest room. A fireplace against the north wall was cold, as could be expected in summer. Other than that, there was a desk, a wardrobe, and a bed, its legs sitting pots of water.

"Git," Lionel said as he opened a door and kicked a snake out that had slithered under the crack.

"Are those snakes poisonous?" Gabriel asked.

"Nah. They'll take a nip at you, or try to get into your bed to keep warm at night."

Eleenia pointed to the bed. "Hence the pots of water?"

"That is correct, m'lady."

"Okay, I want you to disrobe, but there is no need to remove your smalls," Eleenia said. She reached into her pack and pulled out her magnifying glass.

"What's that?" Lionel asked, removing his shirt.

"It is a magnifier. It makes things look bigger than they are. So let's have a look. Hold out your arms please." Eleenia walked around him, examining the pattern of his pox blister. "It looks like there are more on your arm and lower legs than on your back and chest."

"Aye, ma'am."

"When did they start showing up?"

"I caught a snake in my bed about a month ago. They showed up two weeks after that."

Eleenia put her magnifier away. "You can put your arms down. Are the blisters painful?"

"A bit tender. They hurt a bit when you pop 'em though."

"What happens after you pop them?"

Lionel started putting his shirt back on. "A thick purple liquid comes out, they heal, and leave a scar."

"I see," Eleenia said. "Do they heal on their own?"

"Eventually. But by the time they heal, two or more have shown up."

"Try putting some aloe extract on them. I'll let you know if I make any headway on it."

"Thank you, ma'am."

* * * * * *

The Waverunner and the Intrepid crawled along the ocean towards New Portsmouth at an agonizingly slow pace. The ships' riggings were extricated from one another now, and most of the fallen rigging, debris, bodies, guts, and limbs had been tossed overboard. Most of the Crimson Moon's crew had gone over to the Intrepid. For the time being, Cassim was acting as Fyke's first mate.

David was leaning against the rail at the jib, sun setting in front of him. He would have plenty of time to sell the contents of the Intrepid's hold. Hopefully the blow they dealt to the guild, the heat would be off of them for a while. He would recommend to Karinga that they head up to Port Cirril to sell the ingots in the Waverunner's hull. Or Fyke, rather.

David was startled as Karinga walked up behind him. "Evening, Tanner."

"Captain. I hear you are taking the Intrepid once she's seaworthy again."

"Aye, I am. Fyke will make a fine Captain for the Waverunner."

David nodded. "Yes, that he will, sir."

"Which brings me to my purpose for coming up here. David, I want you to come with me on the Intrepid. I need a first mate, and you are perfect for the job."

David's eyes lit up. "Are you serious, Captain?"

"Yes. I can imagine Corwyn has asked you as well?"

"Yes, sir. He did."

Karinga smiled. "I expected as much. Well, take your time to decide. I want your answer before we leave New Portsmouth." He patted David on the shoulder and walked away.

David rested his head on his hands, staring back out to sea. 'Why can't things just stay as they are,' he thought. This would be one very tough decision, and he prayed to God against hope that he wouldn't have to make it.

* * * * * *

Gabriel and Eleenia were escorted through the Eddington's castle. Unlike the servants of their ancestral home, the ones here acted like they were walking on egg shells, as if a harsh scolding was about to befall them. The general theme of the decorating was the greatness of the house of Eddington. The portraits of the current Lord Richard Eddington were ridiculous, everything from him slaying a huge dragon, slaughtering a horde of wickeracks, to him lying naked upon a bed of roses, his manhood most likely extremely exaggerated.

Eventually they were announced and taken before the gaudy throne of Lord Eddington, his Lordship looking overly bored. A large man in golden armor stood to his left. His steward stepped forward and nodded in greeting. "It is customary to kneel before his Lordship's throne," he said, a touch of nervous fear in his voice.

Gabriel laughed. "There is but one throne I will kneel before, and it is not of this world."

Had the collective gasp been any stronger, all of the air would have been sucked out of the room.

Lord Eddington looked down his nose at the pair. "Churcher, you had better learn your place. Sir Marcus, if you would."

The man in the gold armor looked at him in confusion. "My lord?"

"Make them kneel!"

Sir Marcus stepped down from the pedestal and strode over to the pair. He was approximately a hand taller than Gabriel.

"You don't want to do that," Gabriel said, not in the least bit intimidated.

A memory stirred in Lord Eddington's mind and he stood up. "It's okay, Marcus. You, Brother Gabriel, you wouldn't happen to be the son of Lord Ki Kalendeen, would you?"

"I am indeed, and this is my sister, the healer Eleenia."

"Yes, you remind me of your father. I met him on the day of your brother's wedding."

"Your condolences are accepted and appreciated," Eleenia said.

Lord Eddington looked at her, confused, as another collective gasp could be heard. The gossip around the court would be flowing tonight.

"Lord Eddington," Eleenia said, breaking the awkward silence. "I am here to see to your wife. I understand she has been struck by the Snakepox."

"Oh, yes, of course. I'm afraid there isn't much hope for her, but you are welcome to see her." There was absolutely no emotion in his voice whatsoever. "You, scullery maid," he said pointing to a woman covered in soot. "Take this healer to Laurel's chambers." He waved them away, dismissed.

Eddington waited until Gabriel and Eleenia were out of earshot when he called Sir Marcus to his side. "What do you think of them?"

"The lad seems confident. I've heard that the training of a Church knight is the most rigorous in the known lands. He couldn't have been raised to the knighthood very long ago. He's probably in the best shape of his life."

Eddington nodded. "Could you take him?"

Sir Marcus rubbed his chin. "I don't know. More than likely. Why? Are you planning something?"

"His father was the one who forced me to marry that commoner whore. I'm just glad the Snakepox will rid me of her. Keep an eye on him for me."

"You think the healer will be unsuccessful?"

Eddington laughed. "Please, Marcus! My best physicians haven't been able to find a cure. With all of the bloodletting, teeth pulling, and humor balancing they've tried?"

"I don't know, Richard. If she inherited her father's intellect..."

"Then let's hope she is a dumb bitch like her mother. I understand the criminals who have insisted they are innocent are backing up. I say it is high time for my Judicial Champion to judge them in a trial by combat!"

"Certainly, my lord. I'm always up for some sport."

* * * * * *

"Here we are, ma'am," the scullery maid said, motioning to the door.

Eleenia looked at her, puzzled. "I would think Lady Eddington's room would be on a higher floor."

"Oh no, ma'am. Lord Eddington insisted she be given this room, he did. It is the largest on the ground level."

"I see. Well, thank you for bringing me. I'll see myself in."

As Eleenia opened the door, her nose was assailed by the scent of rot, disease, and mold. She even had to bring the scarf she wore around her neck up to cover her nose and mouth. She walked through the very tastefully decorated room over to the large canopy bed. What a striking contrast to the rest of the castle, she thought. The woman lying on the bed was unconscious. Purple boils littered every inch of her exposed skin. Gingerly, Eleenia sat down on the bed at her side.

"Lady Eddington?" she said.

The woman slowly opened her eyes. "Are you another physician?"

"Sort of," Eleenia said.

Lady Eddington began to cry softly. "Please, no more bloodlettings," she said weakly, turning her head.

"I'm from the University at Avonshire, Lady Eddington. I am a healer. I don't work in the old form of medicine."

"Who are you?"

"My name is Eleenia Ki Kalendeen."

Lady Eddington turned her head towards her. "Lord Alexander's daughter?"

"Yes."

A tear ran down Lady Eddington's eye. "I am so sorry about what happened to them. I met your father mere hours before the attack. He showed me the ultimate kindness and forced Richard to marry me, a mere commoner. Lord rest his soul."

"Thank you. And I wouldn't say a mere commoner. In offering your condolences, you've already proved yourself far more noble than your husband. I have to ask you, M'lady, that painting of your husband on the bed of roses, is it... accurate?"

Lady Eddington chuckled. "No, my dear. It is wishful thinking on his part."

The door closed, causing Eleenia to turn around. A little girl, no older than four, stood in the room. She was looking down at the floor, mouth downturned with sadness in her eyes.

"Lady healer, is my momma gonna die?" she asked.

Eleenia smiled, opened her arms, and the little girl ran to her, and was enveloped by a hug. "What's your name, little one?"

"Arianna Eddington," she said.

"Oh? That was my mother's name! It is a beautiful name."

"Father doesn't think so."

"Then your father is a fool! It is a beautiful name for a beautiful little lady. Listen Arianna, I am a healer, and I am going to do everything in my power to save your momma's life."

"Father said she is going to die and nothing can save her."

Eleenia smiled. "Well then, let's make that two things your father is wrong about."

* * * * * *

Now that they had a place to stay near the castle, Gabriel wandered through the streets of New Portsmouth going nowhere in particular. Every night he had prayed for guidance, but the Spirit had been silent. His faith remained strong, though. He was sure he was on the right path... well, reasonably sure. Why else would Uriel have sent him out into the city if not to find his father's dagger and thus point him towards David.

He eventually found himself by the docks. He glanced at the many ships that lined the harbor, but was unimpressed. A snake slithered over his foot, which startled him. After kicking it away, he wiped the sweat from his brow. Best get something to drink, he thought. If nothing else, he would get out of the sun for a while.

He picked the closest tavern, the Sea Dog. He had considered asking someone, but it was quite obvious that very few people had any respect for him, at least while he wore his white shirt with the cross emblem and his blue cloak, which he currently did.

The tavern was practically empty. Two bored serving girls looked up when he came in.

"Do you want this one?" the blond asked the redheaded, more busty girl.

"Sure," she replied. "Churchers are usually pretty good tippers, and you don't have to worry about them getting fresh. Sit anywhere you like, Sir Knight."

"Thank you," Gabriel said. He picked a table on the far side of the room, away from the door and sat down.

"What can I get you?"

"Do you serve food here or just drinks?"

"We have a fully stocked kitchen. Our cook makes a particularly good shrimp bisque."

Gabriel nodded. "I'd like to try a bowl of that with some bread. And a tankard of light ale, please."

"If you need anything, my name is Luna." She headed to the bar and told the bored bartender, who happened to have the Snakepox.

The bartender turned and drew the ale from one of the five large tapped barrels. Luna brought it over and set it before Gabriel. "There you go, Sir Knight. Do enjoy."

Several more people started to come into the tavern. The blond jumped off her chair and went over to seat them. Gabriel took a drink of the ale, which was fairly good. It was better than he had expected this close to the docks.

"Coloring your hair black and wearing a costume ain't gonna hide you, Tanner," a man said by the door.

Gabriel paid him no mind.

"Tanner, you got shit in your ears? You got a lot of balls coming here alone. Let's get his attention, boys."

Gabriel took another drink of his ale. Halfway through, someone pushed the tankard upward, spilling the ale all over his face. He was on his feet in an instant with his sword in hand. "I realize there is no respect here for the church, but that went too far," Gabriel said to the three startled men standing near him. "What would you have? A fight? I'll spill your guts.

The leader of the three men put up his hands in a settle down motion. "Easy there, big fellow. We thought you were someone else. Let me offer an apology and replace your drink. Luna, bring me a clean rag for this Holy Defender."

Gabriel sheathed his sword, stared at the three men for a second, and when he was convinced they weren't going to attack, he let down his guard. The redheaded serving girl handed him the rag, with which he wiped his face and hair.

"I'm Franklin Galt, Boatswain to Captain Laudabacker on the guild ship Clearwater." He extended his hand, which Gabriel shook.

"Brother Gabriel, Holy Defender."

"Mind if we join you?"

Gabriel shrugged and motioned for them to sit. The four men sat around the small round table.

"Luna, honey, four of whatever he was drinking," Galt said with a snap of his finger. "These two are Izarus and Bron," he said motioning to the other two men.

"Who is this Tanner for whom you mistook me? And what has he done to wrong you?"

"Ah, he's Yeoman on an independent ship that's been a pain in the guild's ass for a few years now. Looks a lot like you, but has blond hair, is a good bit thinner, and has a big scar running down the side of his face." Galt outlined a line going from his eye to his mouth.

Gabriel perked up. "This man, tell me more about him?"

"Um, let's see. His name is David Tanner, son of a leather worker, smart as hell and well educated. At least that's what Captain Laudabacker said. Tried to get him on board with us a little while back. When he said no, the Captain set a few goons on him. Tanner whooped up on them good."

"Why did Laudabacker want him on his crew?"

"That kid has the best business sense any of us has ever heard of. Negotiating skills you wouldn't believe. He could get you to hand over your sword, pants, tunic, and smalls, and have you pay him, then thank him! He is making that crew enough money to make Solomon blush!"

"What's the name of his ship?"

"The Waverunner. Captained by a bloke named Jaxom Karinga."

Luna put the four ales on the table and handed them out. Galt went to pay her, but he was stopped by Gabriel.

"My good lady, these three men's dinner and drinks are on me. They've told me something I've been longing to hear for years." Gabriel placed three gold coins on the table, ensuring that the men could leave gorged and drunk, and still give Luna three days' worth of wages.

* * * * * *

The past three days, Eleenia had made some progress on the Snakepox. This morning, when she went to Lady Eddington's chambers, the smell of rot was gone, Lady Eddington was sitting up holding Arianna, and other than the blotches on her face and a snake that slithered out of the room into the rest of the castle, things looked perfectly normal.

"Miss Eleenia!!!" Arianna squealed when she spotted El. She immediately jumped down, ran over, and was scooped up into a hug. "Momma is feeling so much better! Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you..." she said, hugging Eleenia tightly around the neck.

"You're welcome, little one, but Miss Eleenia needs to breathe," El said in a choked voice. She put Arianna down. "I have something for you!" El reached into her bag and pulled out a beautiful china doll.

Arianna's jaw dropped. "Is that really for me?"

"Of course it is! I saw it, and I thought I know a beautiful little lady who would appreciate such a fine doll."

Arianna turned her head to her mom and looked at her expectantly.

"Go ahead, babe. What do you say?"

"Thank you, Miss Eleeina," she said, all smiles as she took the doll. "In fact, I'm going to name her Lady Eleenia!"

El smiled and mussed her hair. "Go play with her, little one. I need to tend to your mother."

The little girl ran out of the room with a squeal of glee.

Laurel smiled. "I haven't seen her this happy in a long time. I named her after your mother, you know. Your coming here was truly a blessing."

"Well, let's not get too premature. You aren't cured yet. I'd like to take off the wrap I put on your arms two days ago and see how my little mixture worked." Lady Eddington presented her arms, and El began to unwrap them.

"I trust your stay in New Portsmouth is pleasant? Well, other than the snakes, the heat, and the constant sweating."

"For the most part," El said. "Although I admit I have to avert my eyes when I walk past that picture of Richard. How gaudy! People shouldn't be forced to look at his shlong like that!"

Lady Eddington laughed. "I haven't heard that slang before. And with Richard, it's more like a shlort, or at best a shledium."

El had to stop her unwrapping at the fit of laughter that hit her. She continued unwrapping. Her eyes lit up when she got to the flesh. The splotches had vanished, and only faint blemishes that were whiter than the skin around them remained. "It worked!"

"What did you use?"

"A mixture of aloe, vorkus root, and alcohol."

"So is that the cure?" Lady Eddington asked.

El shook her head. "No, it only relieves the symptoms. I've been analyzing the people who have been struck. Since it isn't contagious, I'm convinced it is environmental. And, look at this." El held up her hand, showing a red pock mark upon it.

Lady Eddington put her hands up to her mouth. "Oh, my dear, I am so sorry."

El shook her head. "Don't be. I'm convinced it is only because I have spent so much time in your room. It helps confirm my theory." She began to unwrap Laurel's other arm under the uncomfortable silence.

"So," Lady Eddington said. "Has your brother made any headway on his quest?"

"I spoke to him this morning at breakfast. He believes David has taken the name of Tanner and joined a merchant's crew."

"I've heard Richard's steward cursing out someone by that name about how much he was costing him in household funds. Richard wanted to meet with him, but David Tanner always refused. What do you think?"

El shrugged. "I don't know what to believe. A week ago, I thought David was dead, but the general description of this David Tanner does fit pretty well. Maybe he thought you or Lord Eddington might recognize him. There. All done."

Lady Eddington examined her arms. "That is wonderful. Thank you."

"For your face, I'd like to apply the lotion first, and then wrap. It will keep it out of your hair."

"Let's go for it!"

* * * * * *

Gabriel had decided to forgo his Holy Defender uniform for the time being. Necessity demanded it with how people disrespected him. He kept his sword with him, though. He wasn't stupid.

After some inquiries, he had found out that the crew of the Waverunner often frequented the Salt Spray Inn when they put to port here. When Gabriel arrived there, the two serving girls gasped at seeing him.

He took a seat, and they immediately came over to him. "Excuse me, sir. Is your last name Tanner?"

"No, why?"

The other one spoke up. "I'm Jenna. One of our favorite customer's name is David Tanner. Honestly, sir, you could be his brother."

Gabriel smiled. "Dark beer, please. Tell me, this David Tanner, he doesn't happen to always order creamed whisky, does he?"

The girls' eyes lit up. "He does indeed!"

"Please make sure it's cold if possible," the three said in unison.

"You do know him then, sir?"

Gabriel leaned back in his chair. "I do, indeed."

* * * * * *

Back in her room at the Lord Golden Dragon Inn, which lay next to Eddington Castle, Eleenia examined the fresh pock mark on the back of her left hand. The purple bump had shown up that morning when she woke up. The symptoms of Snakepox, tiredness, fever, sweating, and nausea had not manifested. She removed a very fine knife from her healer's pack, and very carefully, she cut away the skin that made up the holding pocket for the purple liquid underneath. The fluid flowed out of the small wound as she made her first tiny incision. She took the tiny set of tongs our of her pack and removed the skin. She then took a small wad of Arabian cotton and dabbed the fluid, hoping to gain some more clues about the disease.

A knock at the door drew her out of her thoughts. "Yes?"

"El, it's me," said Gabriel. "Would you like to come down to the common room for dinner?"

"In a bit. I'm working."

"Alright. I'll be in my room. Come get me when you want to go down."

He must have some news about David, she thought. Otherwise he would have gone down without her.

El returned to her work. She turned up the three oil lamps on her table to maximum. She smelled the cotton stained with the fluid from her wound. It smelled faintly like rotten meat. She reached in her pack and grabbed her magnifier, then examined the fluid. It looked like blood mixed with pus, which meant it was an infection. But what was the cause? She took the skin and placed it on a white piece of parchment and examined it. At the very center was the tiniest of pin pricks. That had to be it! But what could have made the tiny hole? A snake? Surely not. Tomorrow, she would take her magnifier and examine every inch of Lady Eddington's room.

She was hit by a hunger pang. It was time for her to eat and see what Gabriel had learned.

* * * * * *

David took up his standard place at the jib of the Waverunner. His bowels hadn't been working properly since he learned the crew was going to split up. It was almost like his family was breaking into two and he didn't like it in the least. One of the best things about his life at sea was the consistency of the crew. With the money he was earning them, the only crew members they had lost were due to discipline problems or in the case of three of them, to retire comfortably.

He hadn't prayed in as long as he could remember. Maybe it was time. David folded his hands and bowed his head. 'Dear Lord in Heaven,' he prayed. 'Please don't make me have to choose between Corwyn and Captain Karinga. They are both like uncles to me, and I have come to admire both of them so much. I really don't want to have to choose.'

"Hey, Tanner," Fyke said as he made his way to David. "I saw you praying there. Be careful what you are praying for. God has a way of answering prayers in unexpected ways."

"Oh, good evening, Corwyn. What's up?"

"Dunkirk says we should be putting in to New Portsmouth tomorrow evening. Have you given any thought to my offer?"

David nodded. "I have, but I don't have an answer for you yet. I'll make you a deal. Don't ask me about it again, and after I've had a good night's sleep in an inn, I'll make my decision."

"Works for me! And just to let you know, I've learned a lot from you. I won't be offended or angry if you choose to go with Jax. He told me that if you pick me, he'll offer the job to Cassim. Figure I'll do the same. Who knows when Captain Armstrong will show up again."

"Thank you, Corwyn. I really appreciate the lack of pressure."

After a few moments of silence, Fyke pat David on the back. "So, any thought as to what you are going to do with all that ore?"

David shrugged. "I figure I'll try to sell it to the Eddington household. They can mark it up and sell it to King Nicolai, or hire some blacksmiths from Lystra and use it themselves."

"Why wouldn't they buy it directly from the miners' guild in Lystra?'

David smiled. Fyke always tried to learn as much as he could off of David, especially since he bought the Waverunner. "There is a plague of Snakepox in New Portsmouth. If Eddington were to send someone to Lystra to acquire it, he would have to pay a huge premium to transport it."

Corwyn nodded. "Yeah, that makes sense I suppose. So you want me to set up a meeting with that ferret-faced steward?"

"If you wouldn't mind."

"Why don't you ever meet with Lord Eddington himself?" Corwyn asked.

'Because I've met him in a previous life and he might recognize me,' David thought. "He has no head for business and is likely to storm out of the negotiations, thinking I mean to wring him for every copper he has."

"But you do mean to wring him for every copper he has."

David laughed. "Yes, but we don't say that out loud! Household stewards are always anxious to make their masters some money, and they are willing to part with more gold if they know they are going to make more gold. Eddington isn't that forward thinking."

"Davey," Corwyn said, "If you do end up with Jax, when we meet, could you still give me some advice and pointers?"

"Of course, my friend. Anytime. In fact, no matter who I choose, I'm going to recommend we travel together for safety's sake. The guild might get an eye for vengeance."

Fyke reached over and mussed David's hair. "There's a smart lad."

* * * * * *

"It is definitely David," Gabriel said, dipping his bread in his bowl of bisque.

"How do you know?" El asked.

"This Tanner fits him to the item. He showed up four years ago and has been the most enigmatic person in the coastal areas. Very educated, a brilliant negotiators, and he just gives off an aura of nobility. Plus, his favorite drink is creamed whiskey."

"Please make sure it's cold if possible," El said.

Gabriel nodded. "I found the tavern where the crew of the Waverunner frequents. According to the serving girls, this David Tanner uses those exact words every time he orders it."

Eleenia pursed her lips. "When I see him, I'm going to smack him upside his head for what he did to us! Making us think he was dead!" She took a vicious bite out of her smoked fowl leg.

"I'm sure he had his reasons." Gabriel went to pat El's hand, but stopped when he noticed her bandage. "What happened to you?"

"Gabriel, I am so close to finding the cause of the Snakepox! I've made a major breakthrough today!"

Gabriel smiled. "That's wonderful, El. Father would have been so proud of you. The lives you are going to save!"

The plump serving girl came to their table. "Anything else for you two?"

"No, thank you," Eleenia said.

"Another bowl of this bisque, please. It is amazing!" Gabriel handed her his empty bowl.

The server smiled. "I'll tell the cook you said so."

* * * * * *

Lord Eddington looked out of his bedroom window down at Laurel and Arianna in the garden. How ridiculous his wife looked with her head wrapped in those bandages. That Ki Kalendeen bitch enabled her to be on her feet when he was sure she was at Death's door. If she pulled through, he would have to think of a fitting punishment. But how to make it look like a reward?

A knock at his door brought him out of his scheming. "Come!" he yelled. The door opened to reveal Sir Marcus.

"You called for me, my lord?" the large man said.

Eddington waved him over. "Look at them playing. It's sickening."

Marcus nodded. "I was sure the Snakepox would take her."

"She gives me a daughter, makes me ineligible to rise to the throne via a royal marriage, and becomes a cultural icon and an inspiration to the rabble and gives them hope of rising above their stations in life. Tell me Sir Marcus, have you ever heard of anything so audacious?" Lord Richard spat with disgust. "A curse on Alexander Ki Kalendeen! I hope he is rotting in Hell!"

"Now his daughter continues to vex you, my lord."

"Yes, she does. To hell with that entire family." A devious smile crept across Lord Eddington's face. "Sir Marcus, if she finds the cure to the Snakepox, what would you say to me awarding her to you?"

Sir Marcus arched an eyebrow in surprise. "My lord?"

"It would be perfect. She has her father's wits, and I'm sure she could make you fabulously wealthy. You wouldn't have to stop your nightly carousing, either. And she looks at both of us with such revulsion!"

The large knight nodded. "True. She is fairly attractive. And of course, I would offer my lord first night."

"And with what I will do with her, you won't need to worry about me getting her pregnant."

Sir Marcus winced.

Lord Eddington rubbed his hands together. "Perfect! The trap is set. Whether she steps in it or not, we both win."

* * * * * *

Eleenia looked through the empty bed, checking the covers, the sheets, and the feathered pillows. Nothing. She pulled a chair up to the bed and climbed on top, examining the canopy with her magnifier. Halfway across, she stopped. There was a tiny insect that was all but invisible to the human eye resting. It sensed her getting too close, and flew off.

Could that be it? She climbed down off of the chair and put it back. Getting down on her knees, she pulled back the sheets and looked under the bed. A startled snake slithered out from the darkness. She examined the floor, seeing more and more of those tiny insects. When she got to the foot of the bed, a faint yet horrible smell struck her. She crawled closer to the leg of the bed, which was sitting in a small cauldron of water. She put her nose to the cauldron and sniffed. She gagged and almost threw up at the stench.

El got up and walked over and opened the door. Two male servants were walking by. "Excuse me, could you two give me some help really quickly?"

The men stopped. "Of course, madam healer!"

She directed them to lift the foot of the bed so she could get the cauldron. "Thank you," she said, dismissing them. El took the cauldron over to the window so she could examine it in the sunlight. Holding her breath, she looked inside with the magnifier. Inside, there were thousands of the tiny insects. It seemed they were breeding in the water! That was it! It explained why only the people on the ground floor with beds caught the Snakepox! She dumped the water out the window and ran out of the room towards the garden.

"Lady Eddington!" she screamed as she exited the castle. "Lady Eddington! I found the cure! I found the cure!"

Arianna squealed with glee jumping up and down. She ran over to Eleenia with her arms open wide. "Miss Eleenia! You saved my momma! You saved my momma!"

"What is it, Eleenia?" Lady Eddington asked.

"The water in the cauldrons! It was a breeding ground for small insects that are practically invisible to the human eye! The cure is to change out the water every two or three days! That should stop them from breeding! Change out the water!" She scooped Arianna up and hugged her tightly.

Lady Eddington weakly sat down on a bench and began to weep with joy. "Thank you from the bottom of my heart, Eleenia. I sincerely thought I was going to die. You have given me my life back, and saved countless others. I'll instruct the staff to get the message out to the town criers. Everyone will know the cure by tonight."

* * * * * *

Gabriel was kneeling by his bed, sword in hand, deep in prayer. A tingling of excitement ran through him. He was so close to finding David. What would happen? Would he be thrilled to see him? Terrified that he had been exposed? Would he come back to Avonshire with him or stay on the Waverunner?

A quick, excited knock on the door startled him out of his contemplation. He opened it to Jenna, the one of the serving girls at the Salt Spray Inn.

"Brother Gabriel! I just heard from the lighthouse keeper! The Waverunner is heading to port! It looks like it's been crippled, but it should be here within the hour!" Jenna was practically bouncing with excitement.

"Thank you, Jenna. I'll head down to the Inn soon." He tossed her a silver, which she expertly caught.

The butterflies in his stomach were almost enough to make him lose his lunch. He debated running to the castle to tell Eleenia, but she was extremely busy with Lady Eddington. He put on his Holy Defender tunic, attached his blue cape, strapped his sword around his waist, picked his father's dagger from his bag, and headed out.

As he walked through the streets towards the docs, he had to suppress the urge to run. Four years! He had so many questions he wanted to ask him. He thought about waiting at the dock, but decided to go to the Salt Spray Inn. Jenna and Mia, the serving girls, would want to see this.

Gabriel got to the inn and looked out into the harbor. He could see two crippled ships slowly making their way into port. He still had a few minutes, so he went inside. Jenna and Mia were talking excitedly. Jenna came over to Gabriel.

"Oh, this is so exciting! I know I'm going to bawl when you two finally meet!"

Gabriel smiled. "Jenna, would you get me a light ale? Also some creamed whiskey."

"I shall indeed! When I heard that the Waverunner was on its way in, I drew some water from the deep well, and I've had the cream soaking in it, so it should be nice and cool," she said. She sounded like a child on the eve of the Feast of the Christ Child.

He took a seat in the empty inn that gave him the most clear view of the door, and he waited, sipping occasionally from the tankard of ale that Jenna had brought him.

After a few minutes, a man dressed in black with a green-trimmed black tri-cornered hat sporting a large green plume came in. He was accompanied by a dark skinned man, most likely a Moor. They paid Gabriel no mind and headed straight to the bar. He guessed they were regulars, as Mia poured them drinks without asking them what they wanted. He listened to them chat about a sea battle and how they captured a guild ship, and how Tanner captured a Commodore Donegal.

Next, a fellow who wore a maroon velvet jacket who carried himself with some authority. Captain Karinga, he thought. He had a big bruiser with him, who Gabriel thought would be his master at arms.

The big man stopped, leaned out of the door and shouted "Hey, Tanner, hurry up!" The two went and sat down at a table.

Gabriel stood up. The door opened and David walked into the inn, counting some coins. He looked up and saw Gabriel. Coins fell to the ground in a jingle as he stood, stunned. All eyes looked in his direction.

"Gabriel!" he screamed. A feeling of joy he thought he had lost forever filled him as he ran over to his brother and the two embraced. David started to sob, as did Jenna.

They separated. "Where have you been, little brother?"

Fyke had walked over to the pair, drink in hand. "Brother? I never knew you had an older brother who was a Holy Defender!"

"What was that?" Karinga asked. He stood up and walked over. "Did I hear right that David has a Holy Defender as a brother?"

"David!!!" Cassim said. "That is wonderful!"

"I..." David turned to Karinga and Corwyn. He was overwhelmed with the fact that his new world and former life had just collided. A quick thought ran through his mind of 'Prayer answered! You didn't expect that, did you?' "Captain, Corwyn, I'm sorry I haven't been entirely honest with you. My last name isn't Tanner."

They both looked at him curiously.

Gabriel put his arm around him. "No, it isn't. He is David Ki Kalendeen, son of Lord Alexander Ki Kalendeen, and the rightful Lord of Lystra."

David bit his lip and nodded his head nervously.

Karinga broke into a wide smile. "Of course! It all makes sense now!"

Corwyn let out a loud laugh. "Hey, Jax! We asked the Lord of Lystra to be our first mate! Jenna, dear, a round of drinks for all of us!"

Gabriel picked up the creamed whiskey. "I already got yours, David."

"You remembered!" David wiped a tear from his eyes and sat down, as did the rest of them. "How did you find me? I was so careful not to leave any trace!"

Gabriel pulled out his father's dagger, grinning. "For three generations, this dagger has belonged to the Lord of Lystra. It's only right that you have it back."

David took the dagger and unsheathed it. A flood of emotions washed over him looking at the jeweled dagger his father had given to him an hour before his death. The pain and the loss he was feeling were driven away by feelings of joy and hope.

"So why didn't you come to Avonshire?" Gabriel asked.

David hung his head. He couldn't look Gabriel in the eye. "It was so horrible. The undead, the death, and the betrayal. The necromancer and that General thought I was dead, and I wanted it to stay that way. Being in Avonshire kept you and Eleenia safe. I wanted to write to you, but I couldn't trust anyone enough to deliver it. I'm sorry, brother." He started to cry again.

Gabriel put his hand on his shoulder. "It's okay. I understand. Not so sure El will. She's here in New Portsmouth, by the way."

"El's here?" David asked excitedly.

"Oh, you have a sister?" Corwyn asked, eyebrows perked.

"Don't even think of it, Fyke!" David said, smiling.

Jenna refilled everyone's cup as they sat, chatting small talk, waiting for someone to broach the subject of David's future. Finally, Gabriel spoke up. "So David, it looks like you have three options. If you choose to go with Captain Fyke or Captain Karinga, I understand, but I would ask that you at least come say hello to Eleenia."

David drained his cup of creamed whiskey. He motioned to Jenna. "Please make sure it's cold if possible." He looked to Karinga and Corwyn. "I'm sorry Captain, Captain, but my place is with my family. Besides, now that my secret is out, I would make you an even bigger target. Not only with the guild, but it would put you in danger with the Aragil authorities.

"It's okay, David," Karinga said, putting his hand on his shoulder. "You've made us all wealthy, as well as yourself, I imagine."

"Plus you've taught us an awful lot," Corwyn said. "I think Jax and I will manage. You deserve to be with your family."

"Thank you, my friends," David said.

"David, exactly how much money have you accumulated?" Gabriel asked.

"Close to 50,000 platinum by now."

Gabriel's jaw dropped. "Wow. Very impressive, but not entirely unexpected. Master Cohen always did say you were the best of his students. Better than Eleenia, even."

They sat in the Salt Spray Inn, drinking, laughing, telling stories, and eating for hours before David said goodbye to his crew and his life, promising them he would see them again.

* * * * * *

As they walked back to castle Eddington, David told Gabriel the details of the battle with the necromancer. "When I got back to father, Alexander was already dead, but father was clinging to life. He told me to always walk in the light, and then he died in my arms."

Gabriel wiped a tear from his eye. "I'm glad you were the last one Mother and Father both saw before they crossed over. They would be proud of the man you have become."

David shrugged. "I don't know. I've used my gifts to leverage people into positions where I was clearly taking advantage of them."

"True, but you've made a lot of people a lot more money than their station in life would normally afford them. Plus, you never outright cheated anyone, did you?"

"Heavens no," David insisted. "I merely used the tactics that Master Cohen taught us. I was always honest, and the people I dealt with trusted me. I'm not really sure what I'm going to do now. I'm too old to enter the university or to be initiated into the Holy Defenders, not that your path would fit me. Still, it always used to be an option."

"Old man Hollinger was looking to sell his Angel's Reach estate on the river downstream from Avonshire. It is outside the city walls, yet it has a large dock and warehouse. The village around it is very quaint and friendly. If you wanted to keep on trading, you may consider making him an offer," Gabriel suggested.

"What is he asking?"

"150 thousand gold. You could definitely afford that much."

David laughed. "Brother, by the time I'm done with Mr. Hollinger, I will be paying substantially less. Cash in hand is a very powerful bargaining chip."

"How are you going to transport you wealth to Avonshire?"

David pointed to a building. "I keep it in the Royal Bank. I'll get a signed and certified voucher tomorrow, and then turn it in to the Royal Bank in Avonshire. Merchants do it all the time."

Gabriel scratched his head. "How do they keep track of it all?"

"They pay smart people a lot of money to track it, and they pay smarter people even more money to watch over the trackers."

They reached one of the many small town squares. Since it was late, all of the stalls were closed. However, there was a crowd of people gathered around a crier, yelling at the top of his voice. "Healer Eleenia Ki Kalendeen from the University at Avonshire has found the cause and a cure to the Snakepox! All those who keep the legs of their beds in a container of water to keep the snakes from climbing into their beds, it is advised that you change out the water at least twice a week, as it becomes a breeding ground for insects that cause the blisters! Mix three parts aloe, one part vorkus root, and one part pure grain alcohol into a lotion, rub it onto the affected areas of your skin, and wrap it in bandages! Two days later, you shall be cured!" The crier repeated his message after the excited murmur of the crowd died down.

"Well, I'll be damned! That girl is a smart one," David exclaimed. "Father always said she was the most gifted of the three of us. Never to our face, of course, but I used to hide under the table while he dined with Mother."

"Really?" Gabriel asked. "What did he say of me?"

"That of all of us, you were the most touched by the Spirit. He expected great things of you. He said that you take after Mother the most. You had the best aptitude for all arts martial, and he always knew you would make a fine Holy Defender who would be remembered throughout the ages."

Gabriel blushed. "Well, I don't know about all that. What did he say about you?"

"That I was the one always causing trouble, and the most adventurous. To be honest he didn't talk much about me. He had great concerns about Alexander's ability to rule Lystra, and he suspected that the responsibility would fall on me."

"From your mouth to God's ears, brother. One day, I pray you reestablish our family. Now, tell me about this necromancer and General. When we get back to Avonshire, I am going to make the case to the Templar Majorus that we not suffer them to live."

* * * * * *

Eleenia was sitting at her desk at the workroom that the Eddingtons had given her, making more of her pox lotion. Lady Eddington was doing well, and had ordered the house steward to acquire more of the ingredients.

Although she was consumed in her work, Eleenia had been observing the Eddingtons. Lord Richard was very full of himself and didn't spend any time with his family. He was always plotting something, or testing out ideas on that awful Sir Marcus. The way he leered at her was just downright creepy. The staff generally stayed clear of those two, as stories of Richard's temper were well known. Lady Laurel, on the other hand, was loved and admired. Since she had been sick for so long, she was catching up by spending time with Arianna.

For most of the day, El had stayed in the workroom. She wasn't used to the adulations she was receiving. It seemed everyone knew someone who had been stricken, and she couldn't go to the privy without someone bowing and kneeling in thanks. A knock at the door brought her out of her thoughts.

"Come in, please," she said.

The plump kitchen worker opened the door holding a tray of food. "Miss Eleenia, your dinner. Lady Laurel asked me to bring it to you."

"Oh! Thank you. Just put it over there."

After doing so, the woman walked over and knelt beside Eleenia. "I wanted to thank you for saving my mum and dad. They were all I had left in the world. Thank you, Miss Eleenia."

Eleenia blushed. "You are quite welcome. Now if you will excuse me, I want to finish working."

The kitchen worker got to her feet with some difficulty. "Also, I wanted to let you know that Lord Eddington has planned a banquet for tomorrow evening in your honor."

Eleenia rubbed her forehead and sighed. "Very well."

The large woman curtsied and beat a hasty retreat.

"I hear congratulations are in order," Gabriel said, entering the room.

El turned. Gabriel was standing in the doorway with a big goofy grin. "Yeah, thanks. To be honest, all this appreciation is getting to me. Can we leave soon? I'd like to get back to Avonshire. Lord Schlort is having a dinner for me tomorrow, and I'd like to go the day after that if possible." She braced herself for Gabriel's rebuke.

"That sounds perfect."

El blinked in disbelief.

"One thing first, sister, I want you to close your eyes. I have a surprise for you."

A congratulatory gift? Yes, that was very much Gabriel's style. Very well. She'd play along. El closed her eyes and waited.

She heard a couple of sets of boots against the stone floor. Was it something so big it took two people to carry it?

"Okay, open your eyes."

"Hi, El," a familiar voice said.

She opened her eyes and saw David for the first time in five years. Although she made no sound, tears poured from her eyes as she stood there in shock.

David walked over to her. She reached out and touched his face, then full on jumped on him, enveloping him with a monstrous hug. If Gabriel hadn't been there to steady him, David would have fallen over.

El had no words. Her heart was filled with joy, which quickly turned to anger. She released David from her hug, looked him in the eyes, and smacked him upside his head.

Shaking a finger at him, as her mother used to do, she yelled "Where the hell have you been, young man! How DARE you put us through that! Part of me died the day I heard you were killed! Damn it, David! How could you?"

She then enveloped him in another hug and the two cried.

"I've missed you so much, El. I am so sorry."

"I've missed you too, David."

Gabriel clapped them on the shoulder. "What say we take this down to the dining hall."

* * * * * *

"And Karinga was all 'Hell no, Tanner! I won't have that crazy, hairy bastard aboard my ship!' Then the orang raspberried him! I swear, if Hollinger sells me Angel's Reach, I am going to send for it right away."

Gabriel and Eleenia both laughed at David's stories. "You've had quite the adventures!" El said. "What's it like being at sea?"

David leaned back, put his hands behind his head, looked up and sighed. "El, it is the closest thing to Heaven I'll see this side of that final breath. I needed it, to help clear my head after what happened. The gentle rocking, the feeling of safety, the salt spray while at the jib... It healed me. I was broken. Now I'm not. I'll tell you what, after I get reestablished, come with me on a cargo run! I'll charter Karinga, Fyke, or Armstrong and we'll all go."

"Ship some goods on the church's behalf and I can request assignment to protect it," Gabriel stated.

"You'll have to introduce me to Avonshire's Master of Coin then!"

El smiled. "You already know him. It's Bishop Malachi!"

David frowned. "That's too bad. The fact that we were close will make it harder to negotiate with him."

"David," Eleenia said, "could we take Liam Branvold with us too? He hasn't been right in the head since the attack. If it did wonders for you, it may do wonders for him."

"I hadn't even thought about Liam. Of course! If he wanted to, I could probably get him on as a Yeoman on Karinga or Fyke' ship. He was trained by Master Cohen and is pretty bright. Although once I get set up I'm going to offer him a place in my household."

"Little brother, I am so impressed with how well you've done for yourself," Gabriel said. "Tell me, as a sailor, did you ever partake of pleasures of the flesh? You fellows have a reputation."

"Oh, Gabriel!" Eleenia said, blushing.

David laughed. "I assure you, dear brother, I am still as pure as the driven snow. I have had a number of opportunities, and I'm sure the other crewmen laughed about it behind my back, but I always figured I would someday retire from my life at sea and take on a wife. I want to marry a virgin, so I thought I should offer her the same courtesy."

El smiled. "David, that is lovely."

"You should introduce him to Janelle Argos," Gabriel said.

"So, you're secret is out," a voice said from behind them.

David turned. "Steward Thomas! It is good to see you again."

He came over and shook David's hand. "Good to see you, especially without having to explain to Lord Eddington why his wine order cost us so much of the household funds. I assume you will be at the banquet my lord has planned in honor of your sister?"

"I wouldn't miss it for the world. El has done what no man has ever done in the history of New Portsmouth."

Eleenia tried to suppress a smile at David's subtle ribbing at the men in Eddington's employ.

"Yes, well, Lord Eddington has turned in, otherwise I'm sure he would want to meet you again. Lady Eddington is slowly gaining her strength, so she has gone to her chambers early. Tell me, David, would you happen to be available for employment? I could use a good negotiator like yourself."

Gabriel stood up and stepped between them. "You are addressing the rightful Lord of Lystra, my good man. He is not a mere commoner who you can 'use'."

El rolled her eyes.

"It's okay, brother. I took no offense. I am flattered at the offer, in fact. However, I intend to go into business for myself."

Gabriel sat back down.

Thomas looked around to make sure no one was watching. "Could you use the services of a good household steward? I can provide references."

"I'll keep that in mind. You may hear from me sooner than you think," David said.

Thomas gave a big sigh of relief. "I would be eternally in your debt if you got me out of this hell hole. Well, I think I'll turn in, too."

After he was out of earshot, the three started to laugh. "Will you hire him, David?" El asked.

"I just might! He is very good at what he does, and he learns quickly. Every time I came back, it was just a little harder for me to shake him down. With a few good lessons, I could make him the envy of Avonshire."

"Tell us about the night you met Captain Karinga," El said, leaning in.

"Well, it all started when I met these four sacks of vomit working for the guild..."

* * * * * *

Lord General Sagoroth sat in his den, sipping brandy, staring into the fire. Even though it was summer, nights this close to the Blackrock mountains tended to get a little chilly. Things had quieted down here in Ironshield over the past few years. The people were generally content, crime was down, and there was no immediate threat to the nation.

Suddenly the roaring fire died completely. Sagaroth jumped to his feet and grabbed for his hellfire blade. There was the stench of sulfur, then a blinding flash of light.

"Lord Sagaroth," Dameus said as the fire roared back to life.

Sagaroth set his sword down, but still within reach. "Necromancer Dameus. To what do I owe this 'pleasure'?"

"I've just heard from one of my spies in the Eddington household. It would seem that the body we discovered in the kitchen at the Ki Kalendeen castle was not the young boy."

Sagaroth looked at Dameus quizzically. "David is alive?"

"Indeed he is. His brother and sister found him. They are staying near the Eddington's castle. I need a small contingent of men from your personal guards. A dozen or so should be enough. I have spoken with Kadeus, and they are transporting us to Lystra in one hour."

"Why don't you just do it?"

"There would be a very small chance that we didn't all end up there inside out. No, Lord General, multiple necromancers are needed to transport more than oneself."

Sagaroth groaned. He hated traveling via magic transportation. "What do you want the men for?"

"By now, Ki Kalendeen Castle has been taken over by squatters. I want your men to use thin blades to create some corpses for me. We'll need undead guards. We are going to bring the children of Lord Alexander back to their ancestral home, and kill them."

* * * * * *

A knock on her door woke Eleenia up. She groggily got up and walked across the wooden floor of her small room. "Who is it?" she asked.

"It's me, El," David answered. "The banquet is in two hours, miss sleepy head. You've slept through breakfast and lunch."

"Okay, I'll be down in a few." El still couldn't believe he was alive. "We did stay up until sunrise, you know."

"Yeah, some of us aren't as young as we used to be."

"Brat," El said.

Within a half hour, she was bathed and dressed in the beautiful gown Lady Eddington had sent to her. She made her way down to the common room of the inn. David wolf-whistled at seeing her. El's blush made them both chuckle.

Gabriel was dressed in his Holy Defender outfit. David had purchased a new outfit, a pair of trousers, some new boots, a frilly shirt, and a beautiful maroon jacket. His blonde hair was pulled back and tied into a pony tail. He wore his saber and their father's dagger. It didn't matter. He still looked extremely roguish.

"Here, El," Gabriel said. "I've saved you a little stew and bread."

"Thank you," she said. It was very kind of Gabriel, as she was starving.

As she ate, David continued to tell of his adventures and the friends he made, along with the enemies.

"With Karinga in that much trouble with the guild, are you glad to be off his ship?" Gabriel asked.

"To be honest, I'm just glad to be with my family again. I still can't figure out who the saboteur was when we fought Donegal." He took a long drag from the apple juice he was drinking.

"We got to see Nana Jolina and Drake on our way here. Remember that hunting lodge we stayed at near the family crypt? They bought it and run it. They even have Father's hunting dog," Gabriel said.

"Really? I can't wait to see Jake again! Maybe they'll let us take him back with us!"

El set down her cup of juice. "It was them that gave us the first real confirmation that you were still alive. When they buried the body there, she said it didn't have the scar I stitched up for you."

"Yeah, and that that body actually had a visible manhood." They all laughed at Gabriel's joke.

They continued to chat and drink non-alcoholic drinks until it was time to head to the castle for the banquet. Eleenia received seven thank you's on the way there. She also caught many an eye being in her dress.

Lady Eddington was waiting for them when they got there with her little girl.

"Miss Eleenia! You look beautiful!" Arianna exclaimed as she ran over to Eleenia, who scooped her up."

"David," Laurel said, "It is so good to see you again. I want to offer my most sincere condolences on the loss of your family."

"Thank you, Lady Eddington. I'm just happy you and your father got out of there in time. How is Master Lubik these days?"

"I'm afraid he succumbed to the hack lung two winters ago."

"Oh, I'm sorry," David said.

"Thank you. Anyway, let's get you three to the great hall."

"Father has a surprise for you, Miss Eleenia," Arianna said.

"He does? That's wonderful!"

The five of them made their way through the castle. Lady Eddington made sure they avoided the more garish pictures of Lord Richard. When they got to the great hall, their senses were assailed by every kind of food imaginable! A suckling pig was the centerpiece of the feast table. Ham, beef, pheasant under glass, and every side dish, pastry, and fruit imaginable lined the large table.

"Wow," David said. "I haven't seen a spread like that since Lady Branvold last hosted the Feast of the Christ Child."

They took their seats, Gabriel at Eleenia's right and David at her left. The guests filed in rather quickly until the entire hall was filled. Lord Eddington entered the room with his entourage, with the ever-present Sir Marcus at his side. When he reached the head of the household's table, he took a seat at the center.

"Isn't it a bit odd that Sir Marcus is at his right and Lady Eddington is on his left?" Gabriel asked Eleenia.

"Not really. I find that Lord Eddington follows protocols only when it suits him," she answered.

Lord Eddington stood up and held up his hands. The entire room went quiet almost immediately. "Ladies and Gentlemen of New Portsmouth, we are here today to honor a brilliant healer who has saved our city from the plague of Snakepox, and most of all, saved the life of my beloved wife."

"Whatever, Lord Shlort," Eleenia whispered to David, who tried to contain his laughter.

"Eleenia Ki Kalendeen, as is the law here in New Portsmouth, I hereby offer your hand in marriage to my judicial champion, Sir Marcus!"

The entire audience gasped with disbelief. What a lucky girl Eleenia was, they thought.

"What?" El screamed. She stood up, knocking her chair over backwards. "You can't do that! I don't want to marry him!"

"I'm sorry, but unless you can produce a champion who also wants your hand, you have no choice in the matter."

"No! You can't!" El grabbed the bottle of wine off the table and, with fury in her eyes, she smashed it on the ground. She ran out of the room, which erupted in murmuring gossip.

David and Gabriel looked at one another questioningly.

"What the hell just happened?" David asked. "Can he do that?"

Gabriel shrugged. "From what I know about Aragil law, yes, he can. Even to non-Aragil citizens. King Dorian has given a lot of powers to the nobility."

"Is there anything we can do?"

"Let's go try to calm El down," Gabriel said. "This might actually be a good thing."

David rolled his eyes. "A good thing? Are you joking? Gabriel, you saw how upset she was! If she doesn't want it, we as her family have to do everything in our power to help her!"

"I know, but Sir Marcus is a popular public figure here. He would provide her with a home and some status."

David untied his pony tail and shook his blonde locks free. "I want to talk to her and get her take on the subject. Let's go. Oh, and I want to stop by the castle library first."

* * * * * *

Gabriel knocked on Eleenia's door. "El, please let me come in."

"No! Go away!"

He knocked again. "El, please! I want you to go talk to Sir Marcus. Maybe you'll like him."

A loud crash of something ceramic hit against the door. "Damn it, Gabriel! Even if I were to like him, I don't want someone else telling me how to live! You don't understand!"

Gabriel gave an exasperated sigh. "You try."

David walked over and gently knocked on the door. "El, please let me in."

"Why?!?"

"I have something that might help you."

The latch on the door turned and Eleenia opened the door. She immediately threw herself on her bed and began to sob.

David sat on the edge of the bed. He sat the large book he carried on the floor. "Eleenia, look at me. Look at me!"

She rolled over and sat up. Her eyes were bright red and wet with tears.

David grabbed her trembling hands. "El, I promise you that you won't have to marry Sir Marcus."

El and Gabriel both stared at him astonished that he would make such a claim.

"Over the last four years, I've killed men for less than the honor of my sister. If worse comes to worst, I'll sneak into Sir Marcus' room and slit his throat while he sleeps. No one will ever know I was there."

Gabriel gasped. "David! You wouldn't!"

David turned to him, murder in his eyes. "Yes, I would, I can, and I will. But first..." He picked up the large book. "This is the most recent copy of Aragil law. Look through it. See if we can find a legal way out of it. You may not like Sir Marcus, but his life is now in your hands."

Eleenia threw herself on David in a hug. "Thank you, David. I owe you everything."

"Buy me a cold creamed whiskey and we'll call it even."

Eleenia laughed a little through her tears. She immediately grabbed the book, looked through the table of contents, and thumbed her way to a specific page. After reading a few minutes, her eyes went wide. "That's it! Listen! If a woman is promised to a man by the local lord, another man who wants her hand can issue a challenge, which will result in a martial contest of a joust. If the joust is inconclusive, the battle will continue with the sword. Now listen to this part. If no suitor will issue a challenge, the woman can also be championed by her father or an older brother!"

They both looked to Gabriel hopefully.

"I am not that good of a jouster, but if it comes right down to it, I'll do it."

El slumped in relief. "Thank you, Gabriel."

"But, first I am going to go talk to Sir Marcus. I am going to try to convince him to renounce his claim. David, I would like you to come with me. He doesn't like me and he might react violently."

David smiled. "Want me there to keep you from getting your hind end kicked?"

"No, I want you there to make sure I don't kill him. And in case he is with his friends and there are more of them than I can handle."

"So yes, you want me there to keep you from getting your hind end kicked." David slugged Gabriel playfully on the shoulder. "I would be honored, Brother Gabriel, Knight of the Holy Defenders, to be thy second, and thus keepeth thou from getting thine holy ass kickethed."

Gabriel laughed. "Come on, we better go soon. Sir Marcus is a heavy drinker, and with the spread they had at that feast, we want to make sure he can still think clearly."

* * * * * *

The sickly yellow light filled the room as Dameus raised the 28 murdered squatters. He had been impressed. Sagaroth's men had only spoiled three of the corpses with excessive damage. Not that he would give him any praise for it, though.

The old Ki Kalendeen castle was a mess. The junk left from the squatters wasn't really his concern. He had sent several men down to the dungeons to make sure the cells were intact, as well as up the main tower. Lord Ki Kalendeen was known to keep a very good sturdy lock on his bedroom door, and he suspected that no one had been able to breach it.

The 28 newly raised undead rose in unison and looked at him with their pale, dead eyes, waiting for instructions.

"Stay here until you are needed," he ordered.

"Lord Dameus," a solder said, entering the room. He looked warily at the undead. "The lock on the door of the main bedroom has not been breached. I talked to Sergeant Bogg. The dungeons need to be cleaned up a bit, but the cells are still usable."

"Good." Dameus turned to the undead. "Go down to the dungeons and clean them up. Take any bodies you find over to the incinerator. Do as Sergeant Bogg tells you. Soldier, send Bogg down to the incinerator and inform him of the duties he is to perform. Then fetch General Sagaroth. Inform him that he and I will leave for New Portsmouth tonight."

"Yes, sir." The soldier left quickly. The undead were far too unnatural.

* * * * * *

Gabriel and David entered the Great Hall of Eddington Castle. The feast was winding down. About half of the guests had left, and the others were dancing, drinking, and picking at the desserts.

David motioned to a few figures in a shadowy corner. "I think that's him." The two walked over to the corner. Sir Marcus was with a plump serving girl, his face in her cleavage and hand up her skirt.

"Sir Marcus, I'd like a word," Gabriel said, tapping the large knight on the shoulder.

"Piss off, Churcher!" Marcus said with a slur. He returned to the moaning woman's breasts.

"Sir Marcus, I apologize for interrupting one of your last nights of carousing, but..."

"Last nights?" Sir Marcus interrupted. "HA!" He turned and poked Gabriel in the chest. "If you think I have to stop bedding other women just because I'm married to that whore, you're a fool."

"Excuse me?" Gabriel said, pushing the finger from his chest.

"In fact, I'm giving Lord Eddington first night! And he's going to bugger the bitch!" Marcus tried to go back to the serving girl's cleavage.

A long-distant memory of Gabriel losing his cool and going into a rage flashed through David's mind. In an inn near the family crypt the year before Alexander was sent off to the University at Avonshire, a group of the owner's grandsons were trading insults with Alexander and Gabriel. At one point, they had called Lady Ki Kalendeen a whoring heifer who pleasured the stable hands behind the castle. Gabriel had stood in stunned silence for a few seconds, then his eyes went wide, his skin flushed red, and he set upon all four boys and beat them senseless until Father had pulled him and Alexander out of the fray. Gabriel had the exact same look in his eyes now. David gingerly took a step back.

Gabriel's scream of rage drew the attention of everyone in the dining hall. He grabbed Sir Marcus by the back of his long brown hair, pulled him backwards into a trip, and the large man's head smacked against the stone floor. Gabriel was straddling him with his knees on the knight's arms a fraction of a second later. He landed gloved fist after fist on Sir Marcus' quickly-bloodying face.

Cheering and boos echoed throughout the large room as Lord Eddington called for the castle guards. David figured it was time to get involved before Gabriel either killed him or wound up in the dungeons.

"Gabriel," he said as he tried to restrain his enraged brother. "Gabriel, it's over. He's out cold. Come on, Gabriel, time to stop." He caught one of Gabriel's arms and held it. The Holy Defender turned and stared into David's eyes. Slowly the rage started to melt and David pulled his brother off of the unconscious judicial champion.

"What is the meaning of this?!?" Lord Eddington screamed. "I'll have you both thrown into the pit for this!"

David held up his hands. "My lord, my brother merely issued a challenge to Sir Marcus' claim to my sister's hand. He is within his legal right to do so according to King Dorian's laws." David pat Gabriel on the shoulder as his brother tried to compose himself.

"This is far beyond issuing a challenge, Ki Kalendeen! He beat my champion senseless! Guards! Take them!"

"Now hold on there, Lord Eddington! I read that particular law myself. According to tradition, a challenge may be issued by the challenger striking his opponent with a leather glove." He grabbed Gabriel's hand. "As you can see, my brother is wearing leather gloves. There is nothing in the law that specifies whether or not a fist may be present in it, nor how many times the opponent may be struck!"

The crowd laughed, which only made Eddington even more angry.

"Surely the mighty Lord of New Portsmouth, inspiration to the people and slayer of the mighty wickeraks would not send a man merely challenging for the honor of his sister to the dungeons while he was merely following the King's law!"

The crowd murmured in agreement. The guards paused.

Eddington pursed his lips. "Fine! Assuming that Sir Marcus is ready, the joust will be held the day after tomorrow at high noon."

"Very wise decision, my lord," David said. He grabbed Gabriel by the arm and rushed him out.

"Wait!" Gabriel said.

"Be quiet. Come on, let's go. I got us out of a few nights in a cell. Now come with me."

The two beat a hasty retreat out of the castle.

* * * * * *

"Oh my God, El! You should have seen it!!!" David said entering Eleenia's room.

Eleenia looked outside her room. "Where's Gabriel?"

"He went back to his room to pray. It was magnificent!"

El shrugged, closed, and locked the door. "Did he issue the challenge?"

"He almost got us thrown in the dungeon! Lord Eddington was furious! Sir Marcus insulted you, announced his less than honorable intentions, and Gabriel snapped! Threw him on the ground and beat him senseless in front of everyone! I had to pull him off of Marcus before he killed him with his bare hands!" David was almost bursting with glee.

"How did you get out of there?"

"I did some quick talking that would have made Eddington look like a no-sport ass."

For the first time since the banquet announcement, El smiled. "Thank you for watching out for him. Oh David, I can't tell you how good it is to have you back!"

"It is good to be back. So, tonight, I'm going to drive the point home to Gabriel by sneaking into his room and leave him a message. I don't want him taking any foolish chances by thinking he is your last line of defense."

Eleenia thought for a while. "That could be dangerous, but it is a good idea. There are a few judicial battles tomorrow. I suggest you study Sir Marcus' fighting style and see if he has any weaknesses. I'll go down by the stables before and after. If he does any practice jousts, I want to watch."

David nodded. "Do you think it is safe for you to go there alone? Why can't Gabriel go?"

"Gabriel needs to mentally and spiritually prepare himself. Judging by what you said happened, he's probably going to be in prayer for the rest of the night and most of tomorrow. Make sure he eats, though. No alcohol, and plenty of meat, tubers, and bread."

"Father always said you were the smartest," David said with a smile. "Listen, I'm going to go get us something to eat. Afterwards, I need to go acquire a few things and to ask around about Sir Butt-kiss. We'll meet tomorrow evening and discuss what we've learned."

El rubbed her stomach. "Thank you, David. I almost forgot. I didn't realize how hungry I was. Do you want some silvers?"

David laughed. "Please, El. I've got us covered. And on the way home, none of this sleeping outside manure. We are staying at an inn or way station every night."

"Mmm. Music to my ears. Thank you, David."

David bowed with over exaggerated flourish and departed.

* * * * * *

David browsed around the trader's shop, pretending to be interested in what he viewed.

The plump owner came up to him. "I am Master Charles, proprietor of this shop. Do you see anything you like?"

David addressed him without looking at him. "Oh, I like plenty of what you have. There are some fine curiosities, Master Charles. However, I am not finding what I am looking for."

The merchant looked around to make sure no one could hear, came in closer to David, and lowered his voice. "I see. And what makes you think I have any of those items?"

David looked at him with an 'isn't it obvious' expression. "I've traveled to seven different kingdoms and probably 20 ports. Your shop is located in a less than reputable location, and wouldn't be frequented by people looking to buy this frilly merchandise. I've seen a dozen shops like yours. Now, what I need are a good set of lock picks."

Master Charles smiled. "Come with me in the back, young sir. I even have some of the various styles of practice locks for you to try them out on."

"Sounds good!" David followed him into the rear of the shop. The room was lit only by lanterns. Once Master Charles closed the door, the lanterns were the only source of light. David let his eyes adjust. Tables lined the walls of the small room, filled with every type of thieving tool imaginable. Grapples, lock picks, daggers, leverage bars, glass cutters, medicines, acids, even a table with special arrows. David picked up an arrow with an odd-looking head. "What's this do?"

"That, young man, is a noise maker arrow. Good for diverting attention of guards while you make your way to safety. Here, watch this." Master Charles picked up a small black pouch, no bigger than an egg and threw it on the ground.

David was temporarily blinded by a flash of light brighter than the sun. "Argh!" he yelled. He stood blinking as splotches of color fought their way through the blackness that used to be his vision. "Impressive. When will it wear off?"

"Give it a few more seconds."

Slowly David's sight returned to him. "I have to admit that I've never seen such a collection. No wonder the hired guards in New Portsmouth have such a poor reputation."

Master Charles beamed with pride. "Now, the lock picks." He took David over to a table in the back of the room. "These are some of the finest tools created from the ingots of Lystra, which as you know produces some of the finest metals in the known world."

"Yes, I am aware." David's attention was draw to a set that was the most extensive collection of picks and keys that he had ever seen. It was even better than his mentor, Dunkirk, owned. "How much for these?"

"You know quality, that's for sure. I put that collection together myself. Seven gold and it's yours."

David scoffed. "I see I've paid you far too many compliments. I mistook you for a man of honest business dealings. Honor among thieves and such."

Master Charles raised his eyebrows. "You, sir, are more than a petty thief. Normally I would talk about how they were an investment and you could make up the money in a single night of burglary. So, what do you propose?"

"It looks like you've made this set from two smaller sets. I figure they were a gold and five silvers each. So, give me your five best practice locks. If I can crack all five in under fifteen minutes, I pay you four gold. If I can't, I'll pay you eight."

The merchant grinned. "Make it ten minutes and you have a wager."

David thought for a minute and nodded. "I'll probably lose my shirt over it, but provided there is no interference, deal."

Charles reached into a bag under one of the tables, sorted through the locks, and chose five. He locked them and laid them out, and pulled out an sandglass. "Whenever you are ready. There is enough sand in this glass to run five minutes."

"Turn it!"

The merchant flipped the sandglass. David picked up each of the locks and studied them. He carefully selected the appropriate tools for each of them. Before half of the sand ran through on the second turn, the final lock popped open.

"That, my boy, was most impressive! Whoever taught you must have been a master."

David counted out four gold. "Pleasure doing business with you, Master Charles. I will most definitely have to come back when I have more time."

"It was a pleasure. I'd ask your name, but in my line of work, it's best I don't know."

* * * * * *

After a quick stop at a tavern to pick up a bottle of sweet wine and a few orders of beer-battered fish and onion rings, David headed back to the inn. He stopped by Gabriel's room and knocked on the door.

"Gabriel, I brought some dinner."

Gabriel opened the door, looking very somber. "Thank you, brother. If you don't mind, I'd prefer to eat alone. My apologies."

"Think nothing of it. I have to talk to El, anyway, and you have to prepare yourself."

Gabriel nodded. "I have to win this, or die trying. If I lose, promise me you will take El and get her back to Avonshire."

David smiled. "No need. If you fall, Sir Marcus won't live through the night. I'll even make it look like an accident."

Gabriel gave him a blank look. "David, I'm serious."

David put his hand on his brother's shoulder. "So am I."

"Very well," Gabriel said.

David could tell he didn't believe him. Gabriel said his goodbye, thanked David once again for dinner, closed and locked his door.

He walked across the hall to Eleenia's room and knocked. El opened the door.

"Oh, that smells delicious!" she said, picking out the largest piece of fish and stuffing it in her mouth. After the first bite was down, she slowed in her eating. "So what did you get while you were out?"

David moved the small pile of books on her desk off to the side and laid out his new set of lock picks. "Beautiful, aren't they?"

"The question is, will they work?"

David nodded. "I tried them out. These are nicer than Dunkirk's."

They ate and drank wine chatting into the night. El told David of Janelle, Holle, and their friendship, and how she and Gabriel didn't get along, while David talked guild politics and life at sea, stories that Eleenia couldn't seem to get enough of.

* * * * * *

After leaving El, David went down to the Salt Spray Inn. Sure enough, Karinga and the crew were there. They all cheered as he came in and called him over to their table.

"So my lord, I hear that your brother caused quite a stir at Eddington's reception for your sister!" Corwyn said.

"Indeed he did," David replied. "He is jousting him the day after tomorrow."

"Think he'll win?" Karinga asked.

"I'm going to place a sizable wager on him. What does that tell you?"

"Oh, excellent idea!" Edge said.

Jenna brought a cup of cold creamed whiskey to the table. "Lord Ki Kalendeen! I still can't believe it!"

"How's old Edward?" David asked, referring to the owner, bartender, and cook of the inn.

"Doing better. We wrapped him up good. Thankfully Captain Karinga gave us a bit of a discount on the aloe."

"David, we are making insane money on the aloe and grain alcohol that the Intrepid was carrying. By the time we're done selling it, it will more than cover repairs to both ships." Kiringa drained his tankard. "Jenna, love, would you mind?"

"Not at all, Captain."

"What's in that rolled leather you have there, David?" Dunkirk asked, recognizing the set of thieves' tools.

"Picked these up today." David set the leather on the one end of the table and unrolled it.

Dunkirk's jaw dropped. "Dear God, these are beautiful!" He began to pick through them. "In my thieving days, I might never have gone to sea had I owned a set like these! Where did you get them?"

"Master Charles' Curiosity Shop," David replied. "It's up near the entrance to poor town. These set me back only four gold. I won a wager. He wanted seven gold for them, but you should be able to get a similar set for five."

"I just might," Dunkirk replied. He gingerly rolled up the leather and handed it back to David.

David leaned in and gestured to the rest of them to do so also. "Listen, lads, I have a little favor to ask of you. Tomorrow, I want you to ask around town about Sir Marcus. Find out if he has any weaknesses, or if he has a tendency to cheat."

"Last year he threw salt in a challenger's eyes," Jenna said, plunking down Karinga's tankard of ale. "Blinded the poor fellow before he ran him through."

"Thank you, Jenna. That is exactly the type of information I am looking for. Tomorrow, I'm going to watch him in the judicial pits to get an idea of his overall fighting style. Ask around, place some wagers, and tomorrow night, we'll meet back here."

Corwyn slapped him on the back. "Don't worry, Lord Ki Kalendeen. Your 'friends in low places' won't let you down."

"Thanks, my friends. The next two rounds are on me."

* * * * * *

It was around midnight. David hoped that Gabriel still kept regular sleeping hours, as he always had, as he silently moved through the slumbering inn. He moved past his own and Eleenia's room and was standing outside Gabriel's.

He listened at the door. Inside, he could hear Gabriel snoring softly. Unrolling the leather container of his new lock picks, he first attempted a skeleton key. He worked the lock as quietly as he could, trying to get the tumblers to rise. Unfortunately, it wasn't happening.

Replacing the skeleton key, he selected a pick and a small device that was essentially one long wire bent in half with the ends twisted together. He slowly inserted it in the lock and felt the pins pop up one by one. He rotated the picks and the lock softly clicked open.

He softly opened the door and peeked in. Gabriel was lying on his back fast asleep. He crept low into the room, doing his best to make no sound. He reached Gabriel and placed a small sealed envelope on his chest. David's "victim" didn't even stir.

Satisfied, David left the room, closed the door softly, inserted the picks into the lock, and turned it closed. After putting the two picks back in their place, he rolled up the leather container and buckled it closed.

"That should take some of the stress off of him," he said quietly. He headed back to his room for a restful night's sleep.

* * * * * *

Gabriel awoke to the sun streaming into his window. He yawned, sat up, and saw the small envelope that had fallen into his lap. Puzzled, he picked it up and examined it. There were no markings on it, just a wax seal. He broke the seal and drew out the small piece of parchment.

It read "You have been poisoned and died in your sleep. Other than this letter, I've left no trace. I even relocked the door on my way out. Don't take any unnecessary chances tomorrow, brother. Defeat him if you can, but know that if you fall, Eleenia will be safe."

"You clever blonde monkey," Gabriel said smiling. It was so good to have David back. Tomorrow, he would defeat Sir Marcus, then the day after they would head back to Avonshire. Getting out of bed, he relieved himself in the room's small chamber pot, then went into his morning routine of prayer, exercise, and stretching. It would be a few more hours before David and El were up, so he meditated and did slow-breathing exercises.

* * * * * *

David sat at a table by the open window. Even though it was morning, it was already hot. For some reason, Lystra never seemed to get as hot as New Portsmouth did.

Now that he was David Ki Kalendeen again, he started thinking a lot about his childhood. How he missed his family, roughhousing with Alexander, his adventures with Liam, the talks he used to have with his mother, and the games of strategy he would play with his father. He was glad to hear that Jake was still alive. He would ask Jolina if they wanted to keep him or if he could come to Avonshire. He also wanted to tell Drake and Jolina that if they wanted to retire, or sell the inn, they could come live with him. Drake was one of the few people he knew he could trust with his wealth, and Jolina was like a grandmother to him. He loved them both so.

He drank deeply from the mug of apple cider. As he set it down, he saw Eleenia coming down the stairs. Her eyes were a bit redder than usual, and her hair was a bit disheveled. "A bit too much to drink last night?" David asked.

"Shut up. Water, please," El said to the waitress. "Did you get into Gabriel's room last night?"

"Of course. Let a note on his chest, and locked the door on the way out."

Eleenia gave a half smile. "Just think, if you don't regain your position as Lord of Lystra, you could most certainly have an excellent career as a petty thief."

David laughed. "Oh, please. I see myself as more of a puller of grand heists."

Eleenia nodded in agreement.

Gabriel, dressed in his Holy Defender uniform, came down the stairs and joined them. He tossed the note on the table. "It would seem I was mistaken! Don't worry, brother, I won't take any unnecessary chances."

David put his arm on Gabriel's shoulder. "Good, then I won't have to thump you myself. Listen, I don't want you to worry about anything. El and I are going to get as much information about him and his fighting style as we can today. I've also set the Waverunner crew on the task. By tomorrow, we will have a winning strategy for you."

"Thank you," Gabriel replied. "David, will you squire for me in the joust?"

"I had planned on it!"

The waitress arrived, set down El's water, and asked if they were ready to order. David ordered various breakfast meats, fruit, eggs, and pastries, plus three empty plates. "I figured we could just pick at whatever we wanted."

"Thank you, David. I really need to eat up today so I have the stamina tomorrow."

Eleenia took a long drink of the freshly drawn water. "Gabriel, David, I really want to thank you again."

"El, not helping you wasn't even an option," David said. "After Gabriel thumps that drunkard monkey, we'll be on our way to Avonshire."

* * * * * *

The cheers of the crowd were almost deafening as David intently watched Sir Marcus deal out his judicial 'justice'. Lambs to the slaughter more like it. In Aragil, if you were accused of a crime and couldn't buy off an official, it was either prison, death at the hands of the judicial champion, or worse.

David winced as Sir Marcus took the head off of a quivering 14 year old boy caught pickpocketing. He figured this was probably the first time he had ever held a sword.

After the crowd's cheers had died down, the judicial herald announced the final case. "Accused of piracy, murder, rape, and plundering, I give you the infamous pirate Captain Jonathan 'Black Jack' Mulligan!"

David's attention perked up. He knew of Mulligan's reputation and fighting prowess. This should be entertaining and informative. If Marcus won at all, it would be a hard-earned victory.

The crowd booed as a large man with an unruly long black beard entered the arena carrying a wooden shield and a curved saber. "I'll be feeding yer guts to the sharks, knight!" he yelled. He took a few practice swings with his sword, looked at it, then nodded with approval.

Sir Marcus showed only a hint of sweat, most likely brought on by the heat rather than exerting himself. "Many opponents have made a similar boast, Captain. I live, they do not." The two cautiously came together, sizing one another up.

Mulligan launched into a powerful hacking attack, using his size and the weight of his weapon to land blow after blow on Sir Marcus' shield. Marcus waited, merely deflecting the powerful attacks, passing up multiple opportunities to get in a strike.

Sweat started pouring from the large, hairy pirate's face as his attacks began to weaken. Two minutes into the fight? David shook his head. Mulligan was obviously drugged to ensure Sir Marcus' victory. How disappointing.

Marcus swatted Mulligan's shield away and lopped off the pirate's head. The crowd roared with approval.

While David didn't get a very good look at the judicial champion's fighting style, he learned what he needed to know. Sir Marcus was a cheat. He would do anything to win.

It was around lunch time. Time to take Gabriel some stew and bread. He went down towards the docks where he knew a lot of the tavern owners personally.

* * * * * *

"Thanks, Jenna!" David said as he left the Salt Spray Inn. He had aquired a good supply of stew and hearty bread, enough for all three of them. He had run into Dunkirk in the inn, and was having him relay a message to Captain Karinga to see if he could hire the officers to stand watch over Gabriel's room tonight. He had offered to pay them well, but knowing Karinga, he would do this as a favor.

David made his way through the streets towards the Golden Dragon Inn. People were discussing the action at the castle the night before and placing bets on tomorrow's match. Odds were running against Gabriel 5 to 1. A lot of people were going to be very upset tomorrow with David and Eleenia keeping the shenanigans to a minimum.

A few guildsmen eyed him as he walked along. Word was out about David Tanner. None of the guild dared touch him now.

David arrived at the Golden Dragon before high noon. He found El already sitting at their usual table. She had a large pitcher in front of her.

"Water?" David asked.

"Fresh cream," she replied. "I came across a vendor when I was looking for a book store."

"Good. I watched the judicial matches. There was a pirate I was familiar with in the pits. I'm convinced they drugged him. I've hired the Waverunner crew to watch over us tonight."

El nodded with approval. "Good idea."

"I'll go up and fetch Gabriel."

David walked up the steps behind a server he didn't recognize who was taking a tray of food up to someone's room. He hoped Gabriel was done with his prayers.

David raised an eyebrow as the server stopped at Gabriel's room and knocked on his door. "Brother Gabriel, I have your lunch for you."

"Excuse me," David said as Gabriel opened his door. "Who ordered this meal?"

"Oh, it's complimentary! Lord Eddington always takes care of challengers to Sir Marcus." The servant smiled.

"What's going on?" Gabriel asked.

If there was one thing David was good at, it was spotting liars. "I'll tell you what. You take a bite of every course, and take a drink of the ale, and then you can serve it to my brother."

The servant looked around panicked, threw the tray at David, then knocked him to the ground as he sped past.

"Hey!" Gabriel screamed, starting to give chase.

"No, Gabriel!" David yelled, standing up and brushing various vegetables off of his tunic. "Let him go! You've got to save your strength. I have stew and bread for us downstairs."

Gabriel stopped and turned back to David. "Do you think it was poisoned?"

David shook his head. "Too obvious. It was drugged. Had you eaten it, you would have tired out the next time you exerted yourself. It's what they did to Black Jack Mulligan in the judicial pits."

"What were you doing at the pits?"

"Just trying to get a sense of his fighting style. He's a cheater."

Gabriel sighed. "Wonderful. David, I really appreciate everything you are doing for me."

"I appreciate what you are doing for El. Oh, I'm having the crew of the Waverrunner stand guard overnight. Now come on, let's go down and eat."

* * * * * *

After lunch, Eleenia wandered over to the castle stables. She checked on Thunder, Gabriel's horses, looked into his eyes to make sure they hadn't been drugged, and fed him an apple. He looked like they were fine.

"Miss Eleenia!" a small voice squeeled.

El's face brightened to see Arianna running towards her, her mother walking behind her, smiling. El squatted down and opened her arms, which Arianna jumped into.

"Miss Eleenia! Father said you are going to stay here with us! That is wonderful! Momma won't be getting sick again ever with you here!"

"Sweetie," El said, suddenly overcome with sadness at the thoughts of dashing the little girls hopes. "I'm sorry, but I don't think I'll be staying."

Arianna's lips turned downward and tears started to fill her eyes. "Why not? Did I do something wrong?"

"Aw, come here." El scooped the girl up. "No, little one, you didn't do anything wrong. Your daddy wants Miss Eleenia to marry someone she doesn't love, nor want to marry. If I did love him, I would be happy to stay here with you, but my place is in Avonshire with my family."

"How far away is that?"

Lady Eddington brushed her hand through her daughter's hair. "Close enough for us to go visit a few times a year."

El smiled. "See! We'll still get to see each other. You can come stay with me and David, we can play by the river, and David is going to buy a big orange monkey!"

A smile crept back on Arianna's face. "I like monkeys. Momma said there was a bestiary in River's end. She said we would visit it in the fall. Is Mister David's monkey going to be there?"

"No, Sweetie, I think he is going to keep it on his house grounds. Maybe he'll let you feed it!"

"Will Father be coming with us?" Arianna asked her mother.

"I don't think Father will be interested in visiting Avonshire, hon. He needs to run things here."

"How long will we be able to stay?"

Lady Eddington took her daughter from Eleenia. "As long as we want, babe. As long as we want. You said you wanted to feed the horses. Do you still want to?"

Arianna nodded vigorously.

"Here," El said, handing the little girl an apple from her pouch. "Why don't you feed this one. Her name is Nightingale. My father gave her to me on my fifteenth birthday."

"What do you say?" Lady Eddington asked.

"Thank you, Miss Eleenia!" the little girl said, taking the apple. She handed it to the horse, and watched with fascination as it chomped the ripe fruit.

"Laurel, will Sir Marcus most likely come down to practice for tomorrow's joust?" El asked.

"He most certainly will. Probably in a few minutes after he is done eating and scheming with Richard. In fact, look what the cat spit up!"

Sir Marcus rounded the corner, squire in tow. "Pleasure to see you too, Lady Eddington. Hello, my future bride!"

El gave him a look that would curdle milk.

"Well, if you will excuse me, I have some practicing to do. You are welcome to stay and watch, Miss Eleenia."

"I think I'll take you up on that," El said.

Sir Marcus beamed proudly. He and his squire went to the far side of the stable to prepare his horse.

Lady Eddington rolled her eyes. "Ugh, he is so full of himself."

"He shall pay for his overconfidence. David is taking great pains to ensure that they don't drug Gabriel like they do his judicial challengers." El handed another apple to Arianna.

Laurel gave her a disbelieving stare. "Are you serious? They drug the prisoners?"

"David is certain of it. He watched a match between Marcus and the pirate Black Jack Mulligan. There was no way he could have won as easily as he did. I guess Lord Schlort can't be having anyone show up his judicial champion."

Lady Eddington sighed. "It figures. And knowing the types of people that watch the battles, if they know, they probably wouldn't care."

"Momma, what does schlort mean?" Arianna asked.

El and Laurel stifled laughter.

"I'll tell you when you're older, love. It's not a nice word to say, and never say it in front of your father," Lady Eddington said.

Arianna nodded absently and went back to petting the horse.

"Well," El said, "I had better go watch Sir Butt-kiss. If you know anything that will help Gabriel, please let me know."

"I will, my friend."

* * * * * *

Gabriel was on his knees, sword in hand, praying for God to give him strength and to see him through this tribulation. His prayers were interrupted by a knock on the door. He rose, and keeping his sword in hand, opened the door.

"Captain Karinga! I didn't expect you here so soon. Please, come in."

"Our crew has a lot of money on you, Gabriel. Gotta look after our investment. Besides," Karinga said, "I consider David almost family, which makes you almost family, too."

"Thank you. Although I'm not sure if betting on me was wise. I'm not a very good jouster."

"Eh, I've seen plenty of them. Best thing to do is get through the charges and keep things tied, then whoop his ass with the sword."

Gabriel shrugged and nodded. "I suppose."

"Besides, odds on you are now six to one against! Foolish not to make that bet," Karinga said with a laugh. "You're not a betting man?"

"Not really. There's nothing in the scriptures against it, and the church has no stance on it, but I just never really felt the desire."

"Tanner... Sorry, Lord Ki Kalendeen was never much of a gambler either, unless it was a sure thing."

Karinga walked over and pointed to a pair of wooden chairs. "Mind if I borrow these? I'm here until nightfall, with Edge, then Corwyn and Dunkirk are going to take over and I'd prefer us not to have to stand."

"Help yourself! And my sister has a number of books. If you can read, that might help you pass the time," Gabriel offered.

"I just might do that. Well, I'll let you get back to getting ready. If you need or want anything, just let us know."

"Thank you, Captain." Gabriel closed the door and locked it after Karinga had exited. He picked up his sword, knelt down, and resumed his prayer.

* * * * * *

Lord Eddington kicked a chair with all his might out of frustration. It sailed across the room and smashed against the far wall. "You fool!" he yelled at his judicial champion. "Eleenia inherited her father's mind. She was gathering intelligence for Gabriel on your fighting style!"

Sir Marcus shifted nervously at the admonishment. "Forgive me, my lord, but I don't think it will matter."

"Everything is at stake here! I can't get anyone near that damn churcher to drug him! His brother is bringing him all of his food and drink, and some of those damn pirates are standing guard by his door!"

"My lord, the church doesn't teach their knights much in jousting. I'll defeat him."

Richard balled up his fist. Nothing enraged him like not being in control of a situation. "You had better! I'll do whatever else I can. I'll give him cheap armor and brittle lances, and try to sneak someone into his room tonight. Keep the drinking to a minimum tonight. You need to be in top form."

"I could forgo drinking all together tonight, my lord," Sir Marcus offered.

Lord Eddington waved his hand in dismissal. "No, you'll get the shakes tomorrow if you do that. Just limit it to a single bottle of wine."

The large knight smiled. "Very well, my lord. What about drugging his horse?"

"Too obvious. No, I must get to the churcher. Leave me now, Sir Marcus. I need to think."

* * * * * *

It had been a long day, but all of his efforts had been worth it. David sat in the common room of the Golden Dragon Inn, sipping his cool creamed whiskey. The light from the setting sun filled the room with a soft golden glow. The room was filled with the scents of the foods being cooked in the kitchen.

Jenna should be here with his dinner order, Corwyn and Dunkirk in tow, David thought. El strolled in, book in hand, and sat down next to him.

"How did it go?" Eleenia asked.

David nodded. "I spoke to a Sir Philippe Du Rouge, a knight of the king of Gaul, and explained the situation. He is a very honorable man and he is letting Gabriel borrow his armor. I've also secured five good, solid lances. They will both be delivered a half hour before the match tomorrow so as to avoid tampering. Did you learn anything from watching Marcus?"

"Yes, that his squire dare not land a blow. Other than that, he is very accurate."

"Get back here, you bastard!" Edge screamed. A man in messenger garb ran down the stairs, Stockmore close on his heels. He ran through the common room, knocked a table down in Edge's path, got out the door, and disappeared into the crowd.

"Damnit!" Edge yelled at having lost his target. He walked over to the table. "Sorry, David. We caught the bastard casing the hallway. I went to confront him and he bolted."

"Not a problem, Edge. Good job." David ordered a couple of ales for the large Master at Arms. The serving girl brought it over and David handed her six coppers.

"Bless you, Lord Ki Kalendeen," Edge said, taking one of the large tankards.

"Would you please take the other up to the Captain?" David asked.

"Consider it done." Stockmore took the other tankard and headed up the stairs. He passed Gabriel who was on his way down.

"Ah, perfect timing," El said as Jenna, Corwyn, and Dunkirk came into the room carrying several bags. Dunkirk set a lidded cauldron down and wiped his brow. Corwyn was carrying a small cask, which he set on the table.

"Apple cider," Fyke said. "Found it in the hold of the Intrepid. Tapped and tested."

"Excellent," Gabriel said. He grabbed one of the cups Jenna had unloaded and filled it. "What's for dinner?"

Jenna lifted the lid of the cauldron. Steam and a delicious scent of spices flowed forth. "We made some spiced pork and tubers. Enough for twelve people. I wasn't sure who was all eating."

David inhaled deeply. "That smells amazing. You are going to join us, right? All of you."

"Love to," Dunkirk said, rubbing his hands together. "Dish out two portions and I'll take it up to the Captain.

The all started digging in, tearing apart some of the loaves of bread that Jenna produced.

"So what are the odds against me now?" Gabriel asked.

"I think word's gotten out that Eddington can't get near you," Corwyn said, dipping his bread in the thick stew liquid. "They've gone down to 3 to 1. Glad I made my bets early." He took a huge bite of the stew-soaked bread.

"With us working for you, David, I don't think we'll be too popular here for a while," Dunkirk said before taking a bite of pork. "Oh, Jenna, you guys have really outdone yourselves!"

The blonde tavern girl blushed. "Thank you, Mr. Dunkirk. My grandmother used to make it for family feasts. I thought it appropriate."

David set his cup of cider down. "Well, Gabriel, I have procured you a knight's jousting armor and five sturdy lances. More than you'll need. They'll be delivered right before the joust, so Eddington won't have a chance to tamper with them."

"Thank you, Brother. El, I won't let you down."

Eleenia smiled. "I have truly been blessed. I know you won't."

"I've eaten my fill," Gabriel said. "I am going to turn in soon." He filled his cup again with apple cider and drained it.

Corwyn slapped him on the shoulder. "Tomorrow, we shall be toasting your victory."

"Hear, hear," Dunkirk said, raising his glass.

* * * * * *

Gabriel woke three hours before the joust. He was up late praying for strength and steadiness, and that God would grant him victory. He sat up and stretched, not feeling any soreness or stiffness in his muscles.

After utilizing the chamber pot and washing his hands, he opened the door. Quenton and Doc glanced up from their card playing.

"Oh, good morning, Gabriel," Doc said. "I brought some sweet rolls and bacon. Cooked them myself."

"Thank you," Gabriel said, taking the sack. "I'm going to eat in my room. Any action last night?"

"A few people cased the hallway, but no one was able to get by us," Quenton said.

Gabriel nodded, turned, and closed the door. He sat down and opened the bag. The bacon was cold and soggy, but he didn't mind. He pulled out the sweet rolls. They would do.

After finishing off his breakfast, Gabriel went downstairs. David and El were already waiting for him. He joined them and they chatted for a few hours. An hour before the joust, they decided to head over to the to the stadium.

Gabriel, being dressed in his Holy Defender outfit, was met with a number of mocks on his way to the lists, but he wasn't bothered. He had prepared his mind and spirit for what needed to be done. David and Eleenia were following behind him leading his horse, David trying to calm El's fears of losing her brother.

When they got to the stadium at the center of the city, they were met by Lady Eddington.

"Where's Arianna?" Eleenia asked.

"I left her at the castle with the nanny. I don't want her to see blood spilled at such a young age. Gabriel, I am praying for you."

"Thank you, Lady Eddington," he replied. "I can use all the prayer I can get."

When they got to the holding area, a knight bearing the white and violet sigil of Gaul was waiting for them. "Brother Gabriel," the knight said with a thick accent, "I am Sir Philippe Du Rouge. Your brother explained to me the situation. I would be honored if you would take my armor and unseat that sorry excuse for a judicial champion."

"Thank you, Sir Du Rouge. You know Sir Marcus?" Gabriel asked.

"I do, indeed. He murdered a cousin of mine in the judicial pits, a fight he should have, by all accounts, lost hands down. So, how do you feel?"

David put his hand on Gabriel's shoulder. "My brother is in top fighting form. We made sure Eddington's goons couldn't get near him."

The Gaul nodded in approval. "Oui, this is good. Here, let me help you get suited up."

They took the next fifteen minutes getting Gabriel into the armor. Fortunately, Sir Du Rouge had the same build as Gabriel. Half way through, the delivery of the five lances was made.

A pair of squires wearing Eddington livery entered the holding area carrying armor and lances, Lord Eddington right behind them.

"What is the meaning of this?" Eddington raged. "You would disrespect a lord of Aragil to the point of refusing his gift of armor and lances?"

Sir Du Rouge walked over and examined the armor. "You, Lord Eddington would disrespect Brother Gabriel by putting him in an early grave! This armor would take one or two hits at the most!" He knocked on the armor, producing a loud ringing.

"Nonsense! What do you know of such things?" Lord Richard demanded.

"I have been tournament champion in New Paris for the last four years, Eddington! You may have pulled off your knavery with untrained eyes, but not mine! I spit on this so called armor of yours." Sir Du Rouge spat at Eddington's feet.

"Fine. Then it will be in your armor that Sir Marcus will put this churcher to the ground!" Eddington spun and walked out. He snapped his fingers and the two squires humbly followed.

Du Rouge came back over to Gabriel and resumed buckling the final buckles.

"What was wrong with the armor?" David asked.

The knight grinned. "It was too light. If Sir Marcus had tipped his lance, it could have gone right through Brother Gabriel's heart."

They all chuckled.

"Okay, Brother Gabriel, you are ready. Here, let me help." Sir Du Rouge helped Gabriel up onto his large war horse. Thunder nickered a bit at the extra weight. "I will join Lord David with you on the lists. What I said about my jousting skills was true."

"Thank you. I shall do my best to avenge your cousin," Gabriel said.

"I know you will, Brother Gabriel." He grabbed the horse by the reins and led it out into the stadium yard, David behind him carrying the long lances.

The stadium erupted in a chorus of boos and hisses as they came into view. A few of the commoners threw cabbages and tomatoes at them.

"Pay the rabble no mind, Brother Gabriel," Du Rouge said. "They show their own ignorance."

The crowd erupted into cheers at the entry of Sir Marcus. He waved to them and was rewarded by bouquets of flowers being thrown towards him. Several young women even exposed their breasts to him.

Gabriel looked to Sir Du Rouge quizzically.

"It happens, Brother Gabriel. These contests attract all kinds."

David handed Gabriel a lance. "Knock him on his ass, brother!"

Gabriel sat ready atop his sturdy warhorse, shield on his left hand, lance in his right. Everything depended on the next few minutes. He was certain that he would survive the encounter, but better to defeat him now than to have David kill him tonight. It was an option, but not a desirable one. In fact, if he allowed David to go through with it, would he be forced to join The Fallen? No, now wasn't the time to think about it.

The flag was dropped, he signaled with his heels, and his stallion charged. Gabriel clung tightly with his knees. The thundering of the horses' galloping feet drowned out the screams of the crowd. Sir Marcus was getting closer, his joust aimed directly at his shield. Gabriel hoisted the lance into the cradle and braced.

The blow felt like a hammer to his chest. He fell back, briefly staring up at sun. He gave a quick glance at his lance. It was intact. "Damn it!" he yelled. At least he was still on his horse, which had slowed. He dropped the lance and hoisted himself back upright into the saddle. David and Sir Du Rouge ran over to him while he caught his breath.

Over on the other side, Sir Marcus was showing his destroyed lance off to the crowd, who roared with delight. A quick glance over towards Sir Eddington made Gabriel want to hop off his horse and carve that smug smile off of his face.

"Brother Gabriel," Sir Du Rouge yelled while David fetched his lance. "Brother Gabriel, is okay. It was only one point. Focus, lad. Focus."

David handed Gabriel the undamaged lance. "You can do it, brother! Don't get frustrated."

"The match stands one lance to none!" The announcer yelled as he placed the small white flag in the appropriate peg. The crowd cheered wildly.

Gabriel signaled his ready, as did Sir Marcus. The flag dropped.

"Hyah!" Gabriel yelled as he kicked the horse with his heels. Again the thundering footfalls of the horse blocked out the crowd. Again he got the lance in the cradle as Sir Marcus drew closer. And again, he was hit like a hammer without his lance landing a blow.

His horse galloped to a stop. He caught his breath again, cursing his poor performance.

"Brother Gabriel!" Sir Du Rouge yelled. "Listen, he always strikes you hard on the left side of your shield. This time, roll to the left and point your lance upward. If fortunate favors you, you will strike him in the head and it will make you even, oui?"

Gabriel nodded, panting.

David led the horse to the proper place. "Roll and raise, Brother."

Again, the flag was dropped. Again, he kicked with his heels and charged. Gabriel leaned forward and put the lance in the cradle. "Roll and raise. Roll and raise. Roll and raise." As Sir Marcus drew close, Gabriel rolled his shoulder to the left and brought his lance up. It struck Sir Marcus solidly in his head and shattered.

The crowd roared its disapproval in a collective boo. Gabriel glanced over towards Eddington, who was standing, shouting something angrily to Sir Marcus. He dropped the shattered lance onto the ground.

"You did it, Brother!" David screamed running over. He quickly fetched Gabriel a new lance.

"Maybe I have a future in coaching, oui?" the Gaullian knight asked. "Listen, he won't fall for that again. He will most likely try to roll his shield again, so strike him on the right. His armor will protect him, but you will land a blow. Even if he hits you, it will be a draw and you shall advance to the sword."

Gabriel nodded as he took the lance from his brother.

The flag again dropped and Gabriel spurred his horse into a sprint. The lance tucked into the cradle and Gabriel again leaned forward. As Sir Marcus approached, Gabriel moved his lance to the right. It struck! An instant later he felt like an anvil had dropped on his chest. The world spun as he flipped over backwards. His breath left him as he hit hard on the ground face down. He had failed.

Gabriel pounded the ground in frustration as the crowd booed. "Oh, El! I'm so sorry," he said, not lifting his face from the dirt. Wait, why was the crowd booing?

"Gabriel!" David screamed rushing to his side. "Gabriel, you did it! You knocked him on his ass!"

"Oui! You should have seen his eyes widen as he was knocked back! It was beautiful!" Sir Du Rouge and David each grabbed an arm and lifted him to his feet.

The Gaullian knight began loosening the buckles to get him out of jousting mode. David removed the stunned Holy Defender's helmet.

Gabriel breathed deep. The crowd was on their feet, howling with rage. The announcer stood up and called for quiet.

"The match is a draw! Contestants, proceed to the sword area!"

The sword area was a four leg by four leg fenced in square, almost right up against the crowd.

"David, go and fetch the other helmet and his sword! Très vite! Vite, vite, vite!!!"

David nodded and ran back to their waiting area.

"And get some water!" Sir Du Rouge yelled. He went back to loosening the various buckles so as to maximize Gabriel's agility. "I'll bet you that Marcus is ready to pass a brick. The swordsmanship of Holy Defenders is legendary."

Gabriel was still breathing heavy. "What do you think his... tactics will be," he said between panting breaths.

"He will most likely be very desperate. Be extra careful. He has never lost a sword fight."

"Neither have I," Gabriel replied.

Gabriel looked over towards Sir Marcus. One of the knight's young squires was lying on the ground unconscious, most likely punched with a gauntleted fist out of frustration. Tension and nervousness were written across Marcus' face.

Eddington was pacing back and forth, hands balled up behind his back. He was furious.

David returned with the items requested. He handed the water to Gabriel and the helmet to Sir Du Rouge. Gabriel took a big long drink from the waterskin, then handed it back to David.

The helmet, which gave him a much better view of his surroundings, was attached to the armor by Du Rouge. David handed him his sword. He was ready. The three walked over to the entrance to the sword area and Gabriel entered, as did Sir Marcus.

The announcer stood and silenced the booing crowd. "The rules are the first to strike seven consecutive blows wins. There is no pause of the match when a blow is struck. Are you both ready?"

Sir Marcus raised his sword to signal his ready. Gabriel did the same.

"Don't let me down, Marcus!" Sir Eddington said, sitting back down.

"Begin!"

Gabriel immediately went into a defensive stance. He gripped his sword with both hands and began to circle. Marcus was cautious for a few seconds, them flew into a series of wild blows. Gabriel deflected them with ease. After seven wild strikes, Gabriel stepped back at an overhand chop. The knight's sword struck the ground and Gabriel landed two well-placed blows, one on his chest, then one on his side. Sir Marcus backed up, eyes wide with disbelief.

"Kill him, Marcus!" Eddington screamed at the top of his lungs.

The large knight stabbed at Gabriel's exposed face, which was easily slapped aside. Gabriel countered by swinging low, catching Marcus on his thigh plate. The metal on metal clang rung out, causing the crowd to go wild with anger.

Marcus backed up, switching tactics to a defensive stance. Gabriel cautiously moved in and feigned a low strike. Gabriel brought his sword down and with lightning speed, swung hard, hitting Sir Marcus' helmet on the side with the flat of his blade. The loud sound momentarily disoriented the large knight, but that was all Gabriel needed. He scored three quick strikes across Marcus' mid section, thus ending the match.

"Victory to Brother Gabriel, seven strikes to none!" the announcer yelled.

Gabriel heaved a sigh of relief. He pointed his sword at the stunned judicial champion. "Renounce your claim on my sister, or I will run you through."

Sir Marcus dropped his sword. "Please, Brother Gabriel, show me mercy. I renounce my claim on Eleenia Ki Kalendeen!"

Gabriel nodded, turned, and began to walk over to David and Sir Du Rouge. He saw their eyes go wide, and in an instant he turned around and swung his sword. Sir Marcus had a dagger in his hand and was about to plunge it into Gabriel's back, but instead, Gabriel's sword cleaved his hand from his wrist.

The bloody hand, still clutching the dagger, sailed into the crowd, landing in the lap of a stunned Lord Eddington. Fortunately for him, it landed blade up.

The large knight fell to his knees and screamed in anguish, clutching the bloody stump of his sword arm.

"You did it!" David screamed, running to his brother. He gave him a congratulatory hug.

"Indeed, you did," Sir Du Rouge said, patting him on his armored back. "And you ended that charlatan's career. Well done. Now come on, let's celebrate!"

Gabriel shook his head. "No, Sir Du Rouge, we are heading back to the Golden Dragon, collecting our effects, and heading from Avonshire as soon as bloody possible."

* * * * * *

David, Gabriel, and Eleenia sat alone in the warm, humid common room of the Golden Dragon Inn. Sir Du Rouge and the crew of the Waverunner had all come and given Gabriel their congratulations, and thanked him for making them a sizable profit.

Eleenia set down her cup of sweet wine. "I knew you would come through for me, Gabriel. Thank you so much! Father would have been so proud of you."

"Did you see the look on Eddington's face when the hand landed in his lap? He is damn lucky the knife didn't hit the family jewels," David said.

Eleenia laughed. "Even if it had, that's a mighty small target according to his wife."

Gabriel looked down and blushed, which caused El and David to laugh even harder. "What do you think will become of Sir Marcus?" he asked, eager to change the subject.

"Sir Marcus killed himself."

The all looked towards the door. Sir Eddington was standing there, flanked by guards. He pompously strode into the room.

"Took the coward's way out, did he?" Gabriel asked. "A man who tries to stab someone from behind? To be honest, I'm not in the least bit surprised.

The guards cringed, expecting Eddington to fly into a rage. Instead, he remained composed. "Your family has caused me no end of grief. Within the hour, I want the three of you on horseback heading north, never to return." He snapped his fingers and a serving girl brought over four more drinks. "Congratulations, but let that be the end of it. If I never see a Ki Kalendeen again for the rest of my days, it will be far too soon." He picked up the cup of white wine.

"The feeling is shared mutually about you, but not the rest of your family, Lord Eddington," Eleenia said. They all reached for the drink refills.

Eddington raised his cup in salute. "To the end of our association."

"Hear, hear," they all said before draining their cups.

A corner of Eddington's lips curled up in a devious half grin. "Any second now, gentlemen," he said towards the door.

General Sagaroth and Dameus strolled into the room. "Well, well, David. I never expected to see you again."

David's eyes went wide with terror. "Sagaroth!" He jumped to his feet and reached for his sword. Gabriel was also up in an instant, sword drawn. Eleenia stood up and got behind her brother.

"He's the hellspawn bastard then?" Gabriel asked. "I will not suffer you to live you... you..." Gabriel started sweating profusely and his vision started to blur.

"Eddington, you traitorous dog!" David said as he stumbled to his knees.

Eleenia went unconscious first, hitting the floor hard. Sagaroth took a quick step towards her, but stopped.

Dameus caught the flash of concern in his eyes.

David fell next, but Gabriel was still holding on to consciousness. "I will..." he struggled to say. "Lord, forgive me." Gabriel fell forward, his sword clattering away from him as he hit the ground.

"Very good, Lord Eddington," Dameus said. "Your service to the Aragil crown will be well rewarded."

"It is an honor to serve," Eddington said obsequiously. "I shall have my men fetch their belongings. It would look too suspicious if they were left behind."

"Good idea," Dameus replied. "Come on, General. Let's get these three back to Lystra."

* * * * * *

The ride back to Lystra had been uneventful. Dameus made sure all three of them stayed sedated in the uncovered wagon for the two day ride. Gabriel regained consciousness several times, but he was put right back out. Dameus caught Sagaroth staring at Eleenia every half hour or so. He would have to do something about that, he decided. They had brought six of the dozen guards down to New Portsmouth with them. Lord Eddington had been most accommodating, even allowing them to stay in the castle, out of sight of the Ki Kalendeens, of course.

He thought the little drama that played out between them and Eddington was most amusing. It was a shame about the judicial champion. It would have been downright hilarious had he killed Gabriel and then married Eleenia. Oh, well. It just made Eddington more eager to help.

Dameus wondered what he would do to them. Could a Holy Defender be raised as an undead? A thrill shivered up his spine, as no one had ever attempted it. The youngest he would use to try and make the special undead that he and Tollinar were in a competition over. The girl, that would be a test for Sagaroth. Would he be willing to kill her with his own hands? If he can't, he would die. If he did it, maybe as a reward he would raise her and give the general an undead molestation. Dameus laughed out loud at the thought.

"What's so funny?" Sagaroth asked.

"Oh, you'll see, eventually. How much longer until we get to the castle?" The necromancer wasn't used to traveling by horseback, but he wanted to make sure that the three of their prisoners remained sedated.

"Lystra is over the next hill, my lord," the sergeant said. "We should be at Castle Ki Kalendeen within the hour."

"Good."

David began to stir.

"Shall I administer the sedative, my lord?" the sergeant asked.

"No," Dameus replied. "Let them awake."

David opened his eyes, shielding them with his bound hands. "Where am I?"

"On your way back to your ancestral home, Lord Ki Kalendeen." Sagaroth had said the word 'Lord' with a sarcastic mock. "We thought it an appropriate place to end your bloodline."

"But why? We aren't a threat to you."

"The master feels otherwise," said Dameus.

David surveyed his surroundings. El and Gabriel were lying unconscious to his right, also bound. He tested his legs, but they were bound as well. Seeing Sagaroth again had brought back some terrible memories. He looked around to see who else was there. Six guards and another man in a gray robe. "I remember you," he said to Dameus.

Dameus pulled back his gray hood. "I have to say that was most ingenious of you to make us believe you were dead. Tell me, where were you hiding?"

"In the pantry. What do you care?"

The necromancer shrugged. "Just curious. A fine job of being careless and helping us finally exterminate your bloodline. Go to the grave knowing that without you, your brother and sister would have most likely lived their lives in safety."

"You bastard. I am going to enjoy watching my brother gut you."

The entire caravan laughed, except Sagaroth. He had to admit to himself he wouldn't mind seeing that too. From a safe distance, of course.

David smacked his dry lips. "How about at least giving me some water."

Dameus nodded to one of the soldiers, who complied. Wouldn't wanting his test subject expiring before the grand experiment. He shifted uncomfortably in his saddle. How did people ride these things?

David closed his eyes. The light was really starting to bother them. He didn't know what they used to keep the three of them out cold, but light sensitivity seemed to be a side effect, as were the strange taste in his mouth, the shakes, and the terrible headache he had. Fortunately, after about 10 minutes, the latter two subsided.

Gabriel and Eleenia began to stir as they reached the castle gate. The two men who were standing guard opened it to allow the caravan in.

"Sedate the girl," Dameus said. "We'll get to work on her first."

"No!" David screamed, sitting up and struggling against his bonds. "You want to take someone, take me!"

Dameus smiled. "Don't worry, 'Lord' Ki Kalendeen. We'll get to you soon enough. Take the two males down to the dungeons."

Four of the guards hoisted David and Gabriel out of the wagon. David decided that now wasn't the time to put up a struggle. The guards hooked an arm under each of their arms and dragged them backwards to the castle. David looked around, scanning his surroundings. Memories long buried flooded back to him. He could picture he and Liam running through the halls pretending to be defending the castle against foreign enemies, wikeracks, or dragons. He closed his eyes and could almost hear his mother's sweet voice or his father's encouragement as he missed the target with his practice bow. He stifled the tears that tried to surface.

Gabriel opened his eyes. "What? Where am I?"

The guards said nothing.

"Easy, Brother. We've been betrayed. They took us back to our former home. We're in our castle. Rest easy. You're in for a rough few minutes. Close your eyes. It will help."

The two guards opened the door to the lower level and dragged the brothers down the stairs. The torches that lined the walls were burning bright, having been recently replaced by Dameus' undead servants.

The smell of mold and must filled David's nostrils. He shivered as they dragged him past a pair of empty eyed peasants with sword wounds in the chest. Undead. The memories of the horrors he had buried in his mind tried to push their way back. He immediately pictured the open sea, standing it the jib of the Waverunner, the salt spray in his face. He felt calmed. He could focus again.

How to escape? It was definitely too dangerous with these guards and with Gabriel bound. Two other guards followed them carrying their belongings. David dipped his head back to see where they were going. They were about to pass Angus McCracken's old desk. Now was the time.

David threw his weight forward, planted his feet and pushed. The two guards were taken unaware. David head-butted the one on his right and elbowed the one on his left to the temple. He then threw himself at the desk and grabbed a small metal rod, discreetly popped it in his mouth, and forced it down with a hard swallow. One of the formerly stunned guards kicked him in the kidney, dropping him to the ground on his back. They scooped him up again.

"Try that again and I'll cut off a digit!" the guard on his left said.

"David, are you okay?" Gabriel asked.

"I'm fine," he replied.

They were thrown into adjacent cells. The guard turned the heavy key, locking them inside.

Gabriel sat up and opened his eyes. "Ugh. I feel like the entire Elgannan army marched through my mouth."

David pulled himself up onto the small cot. "You're lucky. They shat in mine."

The guards left, leaving one of their number behind. He sat at McCracken's desk, and began to rustle through it to alleviate the boredom.

Gabriel heaved himself up to the small cot. "David, I'm sorry. Had I known it would come to this, I would have left you to your new life."

"It's okay," David replied in a strained voice. His stomach was starting to feel like it was on fire. He began to work on the bonds on his hands, pulling at the knot with his teeth.

"No, it isn't. I've led us to destruction. What would father say?" Gabriel buried his face in his bound hands.

"He would tell us to work together and save El." David pulled on a piece of rope and his hands fell unbound. He quickly untied his legs. "Come over here, let me get you free."

Gabriel hobbled over to David's side of the cell and David untied his hands.

"Hey, guard!" David yelled. "How about something to drink! We're parched!"

* * * * * *

Dameus guided the guards dragging Eleenia up the winding staircase to her parents' bedroom. Sagaroth was following closely behind, as Dameus knew he would. The trap was almost set. He would finally be rid of this annoying oaf once and for all, or he would finally have his suspicions put to rest.

"She certainly does look a lot like her mother, doesn't she, General?"

Sagaroth was brought out of his thoughts. "Huh? Oh, yes, she does."

Dameus smiled. Time for the bait. "Untouched by human hands, pure as the driven snow, and ripe for the taking. In fact, I sense that she is fertile. If you take her today, she'll give you a strong, brilliant son!"

Sagaroth said nothing. What was the scheming bastard plotting?

"No reply, General?"

"I have nothing to say. The master wants her dead, we shall follow his will," Sagaroth said.

Damn, Dameus thought. He might have to put up with this insufferable bastard after all. They reached the locked door. Dameus raised his hand and a yellow bolt of energy shot out. A soft click echoed down the stairwell and the door gently swung open.

"Put her on the bed," Dameus commanded.

* * * * * *

The guard came back to the cell holding two wooden mugs of water. He set them on the ground in front of the cells, then quickly backed away. After smirking at the two captive brothers, he left the room, closing the door behind him.

"Damn," Gabriel said. "I was hoping to get a hold of him."

David reached through the bars and grabbed the mug. "Gabriel, I'm going to need your water." He drained the mug in seconds.

Gabriel shrugged and handed David his mug through the bars. "What for, brother?"

"Getting us out of here." David quickly drank Gabriel's water also.

"I don't understand."

David threw the empty wooden cup to the ground. "Oh, how I hate this part." He got down on his hands and knees and began to retch. Water started to flow out of his mouth onto the cold stone floor.

"David, are you okay?"

David held up his hand. He needed to concentrate. Using his diaphragm, he pushed and continued to vomit. Finally after a few more seconds, a small metal clank sounded. He picked up the piece of metal, wiped the water and stomach fluids from it, and immediately began to work on his cell door's lock.

"I don't think that is going to work," Gabriel said.

"Oh?" David replied. He pushed his door open. "I do. Get the guard's attention."

He closed his door, picked up a small wooden bench, and stepped into the shadow beside the door.

Gabriel grinned. "Guard! Help! There's something wrong with my brother!" he yelled at the top of his lungs.

After a few seconds, the bolt on the door was pulled back and the guard walked in. "What the hell are you..."

David stepped out of the shadows and shattered the stool against the back of the guard's head. He dropped like a sack of potatoes, landing face down on the cold floor.

"Excellent work, David!"

David grabbed the ring of keys off of the prone guard and searched for the one to Gabriel's cell. Finding it, he freed his brother.

"Come on," David said. "They brought our gear down here with us. It has to be around here somewhere.

They went out into the guard station. There was a pile of packs and weapons. Gabriel grabbed his sword and the knuckle dagger David had given him and strapped it to his waist. David pulled out his scimitar and his father's dagger, as well as his set of lock picks.

"You said you hated that part when you brought up your lock pick. Have you done that before?"

"Once," David said. "About two years ago, Fyke and I were captured in Port Cirill by some guards that the guild had bought off. Here." David handed Gabriel a pack of the soldier's rations. He grabbed one himself. "We've been out cold for two days. If you are as hungry as I am,"

"Mrrphf?" Gabriel said, his mouth already stuffed with the dried meat and hardtack. They ate as quickly as they could and drank from a pitcher of water.

"Dear Lord, please don't let us be too late," Gabriel said as they ran up the stairs.

There were two guards standing by the doorway chatting casually. Gabriel pointed to himself then the one on the left. He pointed to David, then the one on the right. David nodded. The brothers snuck up behind their victims, and quietly pulling out their daggers, grabbed the guards faces, covering their mouths. Gabriel stabbed his in the back, while David dragged his knife across the other's throat. David's victim expired immediately, spraying warm blood onto the stone floor. Gabriel's continued to struggle, so he had to be stabbed repeatedly. Finally, he perished as well.

"Remember Gabriel, when attacking from behind, cut these two arteries," he said quietly pointing on either side of his neck, "and puncture the windpipe to keep him from screaming. Edge taught me that one."

Gabriel nodded. "Handy knowledge to have. Thank you, Brother."

They continued to sneak around their ancestral home, weapons drawn.

"How many times did we pretend doing this while we were boys," Gabriel asked with a grin.

"I know. I've been thinking the same thing."

David led, quietly listening and peeking around corners as they made their way to the heart of the castle, the grand dining room. At one point, he peeked around the corner and was seen by a group of three guards.

"Oy! Stop there, you!" The three guards charged as David stepped back around the corner.

"Three of them," he said.

Gabriel nodded. "I'll take the two on the right, you take the one of the left."

The three guards rounded the corner and David swung hard. His blade bit deep into the guard's shield arm. He dropped his shield to the ground with a clatter. David pressed the attack. The wounded guard did his best to try to put up a defense, but the pain of his gushing wound was too much. Within a few more seconds, David beheaded him with a hard swipe. He quickly turned to see if Gabriel needed aid, but found him calmly cleaning his sword, standing over two felled guards.

They continued on and reached the grand dining room. The hairs on Gabriel's neck started to rise. "Something is wrong in here," he said, placing his hand against the oak door.

"Here, let me look." David bent down to look through the key hole. A shiver ran down his spine as a horrible memory of his past washed over him. "Oh, dear God. There must be at least 20 undead in there, as well as six soldiers!"

Gabriel nodded somberly. "Stay back. I'll need room. If I fall, don't try to help me. Go find and rescue El."

"Gabriel, wait," David said, grabbing his arm as he reached for the door. "Those things can be dispelled. I saw Bishop Malachi do it. He held out his hand and prayed for God to take them from his sight. There was an explosion of energy and six of them dropped."

"Funny he never mentioned it to me. Well, give me a few seconds to prepare."

David stood guard as Gabriel dropped to one knee and began to pray. After a few minutes, he stood up and kicked the door open. All eyes in the room, both living and dead, looked up to him.

"By the power of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, I rebuke you, Satan! Lord, take these abominations from my sight!" he said, voice ringing with authority.

One of the guards started to laugh, but his laughter was cut off when he was knocked to the ground by a blast of energy. Gabriel leapt over the fallen undead and set upon the soldiers. Two were dead before they could recover. One more was cut down before he could stand. Another before he could draw his weapon. Gabriel blocked a strike by one, and in a spinning counter beheaded him. The final, he tumbled to the side, rolled behind him, and plunged his sword through the guard's back. It punctured his heart and protruded from his chest. He gasped his dying breath, then slumped to the ground.

David walked into the room, clapping. "Most impressive, Brother! It was like watching a death dance!'

"It's what I have been trained to do. That should leave just one guard, the general, and the necromancer. Where do you think they are?"

David rubbed his chin. "It would be somewhere that wouldn't have been looted."

"Mother and father's room!" they said in unison.

They ran out of the dining room, leaving bloody footprints as they ran. They turned the corner and arrived at the spiral staircase that led up the central tower to their parent's room. Gabriel darted up, followed by David.

As they approached the top of the spiral staircase, David's stomach started to twist into knots. The memories and feelings he thought he had drowned at sea crept back into him. He looked down at his hands. They had begun to shake. A sudden rush of panic overtook him.

Gabriel got to the door and gently turned the knob. It was locked. He turned to look to David, only to find him with his fists clenched and his eyes tightly shut.

"David, what's wrong?" he asked putting his hand on his brother's shoulder.

"The Necromancer. Oh Gabriel, you weren't there. All of a sudden, I feel so... terrified!"

"Easy, Brother. It's okay. Take a deep breath and relax. Don't concern yourself with the Necromancer. In fact, I think its best you wait out here so I can concentrate. Get this door open for me, and I will handle it from there."

David nodded and unrolled his lock picks.

* * * * * *

A guard stood at the locked door and watched as the Necromancer arranged the unconscious girl on the bed while the hulking general looked on.

"What are you going to do?" Sagaroth asked, a look of concern across his scarred face.

"I, my dear general, am preparing her as a sacrifice, then I am going to raise her as a greater undead." Dameus dragged the ceremonial dagger across his palm, made a fist, and held it over Eleenia. Blood flowed freely, covering her face and neck. "There, that should do it." He opened his palm. There was a sickly yellow flash and the cut on his hand vanished.

He handed the hilt of the knife to Sagaroth. "General, please have the honor."

"Um," Sagaraoth hesitated, "I'd rather not. Here, you do it." He handed the knife back to Dameus.

"I can't kill her. If I do, I can't raise her. No, it will be you who does it."

Sagaroth stared at the beautiful young girl. She looked so much like her mother. A feeling of regret swelled in his chest. "No, I won't do it."

Dameus gave a half grin. "General, I knew you didn't have it in you. I'll tell you what, kill her, or you will be forced to kill me. Because if you don't, I will most certainly kill you."

Sagaroth turned the knife in his hand so he was poised to plunge it into Eleenia's chest. Kill the Ki Kalendeen girl or kill Dameus... The necromancer, with his impertinence, insolence, and arrogance had made this an easy choice.

Suddenly the door burst open and the young Holy Defender entered the room. Before anyone could react, he stabbed the guard at the door through the chest. He yanked out his blade and looked to his sister. Rage filled him at the sight of Eleenia covered in blood. "Unclean bastards!" he screamed. "You will die for this!"

Dameus turned in disgust and held out his hand. He fired a blast of pure evil energy into Gabriel's chest. However, instead of knocking him to the ground, it rebounded. The energy instead hit Dameus and knocked him through the air. He slammed hard against the far wall and fell to his knees.

"Well, get him you fool!" he screamed to Sagaroth.

Sagaroth drew his Hellfire blade, hilt turning into bone and blade becoming alight. Confidence and power filled him as he and Gabriel moved towards one another. He swung down, expecting the blade to slice through Gabriel's sword and into the Holy Defender's flesh. However, it did not.

Gabriel smacked the blade aside and countered, his blade biting into Sagaroth's forehead just above his left eye. The large general reeled back at the unexpected hit. Blood poured from the wound and his eyes started to sting from how much was flowing into them. He looked at Gabriel in disbelief as the knight stood in a fighting stance, ready to attack.

Gabriel started swinging, favoring strikes on Sagaroth's left as the general did his best to defend against him. Blood flew everywhere as he reeled, trying to fend off Gabriel's ferocious attacks. He was pressed hard and was forced to fight not on instinct as he usually did, but to rely on his training. For the first time in as long as he could remember, Sagaroth felt fear in battle.

Dameus stood up. Sagaroth was sporting a huge open gash above his left eye. He wouldn't last much longer. A direct attack was out of the question. He looked around the room and spotted several items of furniture. Time for a new tactic. Mustering his unholy energy, he focused on a small stool. He caused it to levitate then flung it across the room at Gabriel. It hit the Holy Defender squarely in the back of the head, which caused him to jump to his left, so as to keep both Sagaroth and Dameus in view.

Sagaroth grinned. Time to finish this. He wiped his forehead with his tunic and moved towards Gabriel.

Dameus focused on a large dresser, probably still filled with clothes, that was behind Gabriel. He willed it forward and it hit the Gabriel in the back hard, causing the knight to fall forward, stunned, on the ground.

Sagaroth relaxed and stepped back.

Dameus focused on the ceiling, intent on bringing it down. Maybe if he was lucky it would take Sagaroth too. He began to will it down. Dust started to fall as the ancient stone began to buckle. Just a little more.

From behind the necromancer, David stepped out of the shadows. He grabbed Dameus across the mouth and dragged his father's dagger across his throat, hitting the two arteries as Edge had taught him.

Dameus' eyes went wide. Blood was pouring from him. He turned to see his attacker and as a death curse he called forth a huge blast of energy. The wave hit David square in the chest, lifting him off the ground into the wall behind him. His head smacked hard and he fell to the ground, limp.

Gabriel looked up. All he could see was his brother lying in a pool of blood. He grabbed his sword and stared at Sagaroth with rage in his eyes.

The world was a blur as Gabriel saw red. His beloved sister and his young brother, finally reunited, gone. The only one left to feel his wrath stood before him. He began to rain down blows, screaming with rage.

Sagaroth deflected as best he could. He could hardly see, and the young knight was incredibly skillful. A boot hit him hard in the stomach and he was knocked across the room. Panic seized him. His wound was far too much a hindrance, and the Holy Defender was too skilled and enraged. He was going to die today, unless...

Sagaroth pointed his hellfire blade and called forth the fires of hell itself, which engulfed the young Defender. The smell of sulfur filled the room and the anguished cries of the damned made him sick to his very soul. 'What have I done?' Sagaroth thought.

From inside the fire, he saw Gabriel walking towards him unharmed, a glowing angelic being behind him, wrapping him in his wings, protecting him. Sagaroth's heart was shattered at the contrast of such vileness against such purity and goodness. He willed the fires to recede, which they did.

Tears flowed from Sagaroth's eyes, his spirit broken. It was all a lie. He was nothing. He had gained nothing. What was power in this world compared to the fires he had seen? He rose to his knees. "Gabriel, I am so sorry for what has transpired."

"You murdered my family," Gabriel said, still enraged.

"Please, your order compels you to show mercy when it is asked. I am asking. Please, show mercy. Spare my wretched life."

"Did you show my father mercy? My mother? My sister? Either of my two brothers? No, general, you didn't. May you rot in the fires that you called forth!"

He raised his sword and swung. Sagaroth shouted "FORGIVE ME!" before Gabriel's blade removed his head from his shoulders.

Gabriel knelt sobbing as the rage was replaced by grief. He was alone.

"Ugh, who farted?" David said as he got sat up, dazed.

Gabriel's heart was filled with excitement. He dashed over to his brother and helped him up. "David!" He grabbed his brother and embraced him.

"I'm okay, Brother. How did we do?"

Gabriel hung his head. "We were too late."

"Why am I covered in blood?" Eleenia said weakly.

Both brothers darted to her side. "El, you're alive!" Gabriel screamed.

She looked around confused. "Are we in mother and father's bedroom?"

"Yes, we are," David said. "It's a long story."

El gasped at the sight of the three dead bodies in the room. "Who are those?"

David smiled and put his hand on Gabriel's shoulder. "El, our family is avenged. Before you lie the lifeless corpses of General Sagaroth and the necromancer Dameus, slain by the most excellent Holy Defender to earn the blue for generations."

Gabriel laughed. "Actually, it was David who slew the necromancer. I never saw that coming."

"Neither did he," David said. "I finally got you, you filthy bastard." He spat on the necromancer's corpse. He glanced at the headless figure, quizzically. He walked over to Sagaroth's still kneeling body. "That's odd."

"What?" El asked.

"He's still kneeling. Gabriel, what happened?"

Gabriel suddenly went silent. "I don't want to talk about it."

David shrugged. "Regardless, I want to piss down his neck."

El laughed. "Oh, David. You're such a rogue! Can we go back to Avonshire now?"

"They brought our gear with us. It's downstairs," Gabriel said. "Yes, let's go home. First I want to stop at the hunting lodge. We've got a surprise for you, David."

* * * * * *

On the island of the necromancers in the city of the dead, Tolinar walked through the halls towards Kadeus' chambers. He walked briskly, as what he had seen in the seer's pool had been quite disturbing. Was this young defender destined to become the hero the enemy would raise up? Seeing him walking through the fires of hell, protected by an angel, caused a worried shiver to go down his spine. He arrived at Kadeus' chambers. A quick knock brought his pudgy master to the door.

"Yes, apprentice, what is it?" Kadeus asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Sir, we have a serious problem."
Epilogue

The trip home was uneventful. They first stopped at The Happy Basset where David was reunited with his former nanny and master Drake. It was a joyous occasion. Jake was thrilled to see them all again. David explained his plans to get set up near Avonshire and start a land-based trading business. He told them when he was set up, he would send for his family's belongings, and if they were willing, they could sell the inn and come work in his household, which Jolina and Drake readily accepted.

Jake accompanied them home. David paid for first class inns the entire way back. He and Eleenia never stopped talking. They discussed his adventures at sea, her years at the University, and their childhood memories. Gabriel, however, was unusually withdrawn and contemplative. This didn't bother them too badly. He would talk at meals and at night. The Ki Kalendeen family was whole once again.

The hellfire blade was a problem, though. The horses wouldn't allow it to be placed on them. Eleenia had the idea of tying a piece of rope to it and attaching the rope to a saddle, thus dragging the putrid blade. It worked, but where it touched the ground, grass never grew again.

Coming soon: Fall Of The Righteous - Book 2 of The Ki Kalendeen Chronicles

 Copyright 2011 – J. E. Sandoval
