 
### Legends of the Brethren:

### The Sampler

### Susan Skylark

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2012 Susan Skylark

Revised 2019

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author

Table of Contents:

In the Beginning

A Council of Wyrms

A Family Affair

A Fool Propheteth Little

A Learned Mind

A Matter of Conscience

A Reluctant Queen

A Wish Fulfilled

An Eye For an Eye

Art Critics

As the Perishable Beasts

Before a Fall

Doomed

Endures All Things

Friends of Old

Many Sorrows Borne

Meant For Evil

No Greater Love

No Such Thing as Accidents

Of Poets and Heroes

Other Books by this Author

Sample Chapters

### In the Beginning

Long ago, when the world was young and men still walked in innocence, an ancient king made an alliance with the terrible god of war. In exchange for the life of his maiden daughter, he would receive power to conquer all the kingdoms of men and have dominion over all mortal lives. The night was dark with neither star nor moon giving light or hope to those who gathered upon the face of that forbidden hill to commence with their evil deed. The king had gathered all of his generals and advisors to stand as witnesses. The girl was brought forward and the hood removed from her head. A single tear rolled down her cheek as she stared with pleading eyes into the cold and remorseless depths of her father's eyes. She saw neither love nor regret there, only a thirst for power beyond the reach of mortal ken. He drew forth a cruel knife from a sheath of black leather. Very soon the alliance would be sealed and no power on earth could withstand him. He approached the girl with a cruel and mirthless smile and raised the blade to strike.

He was thrown back from the girl and blinded by a cold light, and all standing around the pair fell to the ground in fear. Like a bolt of lightning, a bright and terrible figure stood between the man and his prey. The king regained his footing with a sneer and a triumphant laugh. "You have no authority here," he scoffed, "be gone before I become violent."

The light receded slightly and those standing about could make out a vaguely equine shape amidst the glow. The figure reared up on its hind legs and pawed the air. He appeared in the form of a horse but with the awe reserved for a charging bull or roaring lion. Then he spoke, "you must not do this terrible thing. You will forever tear apart the laws that bind the world together."

"I will do as I please," scowled the king, "and there is nothing you can do to stop me."

"If you are set upon this course I cannot stop you by force, but perhaps I can offer you an exchange," said the figure.

"What can you possibly offer me," growled the king with the light of avarice in his eyes.

"The foul demon with whom you are dealing demands innocent blood for your vile contract, so be it! Take mine instead of the girl's," said the mysterious figure.

"Yours!" gasped the king, "But of what advantage is that to you?"

"To ransom the life of this dear child shall be gain enough," said the figure.

"Very well," said the king. "I have a feeling my master will be quite pleased with the exchange. What is one small child when the blood of his enemy is laid at his feet? What are your terms?"

"Give me one hour to bear this child to safety, then I will return hither and you may do as we have agreed," said the figure.

"How do I know you will not steal the child and disappear?" asked the king.

"You know very well I do not lie," roared the figure. He swept the child onto his back and as the light disappeared over the rim of the hill called back, "in one hour I shall return."

For a time the girl clung silently to the back of her rescuer but as the horror of what she had so nearly escaped sunk in she began to sob uncontrollably. "Do not weep little one," said the figure, "you are safe and all will be well."

"How can you say that?" sobbed the girl, "Evil is about to be unleashed upon the earth and no one will be able to stop it."

"I can," said he softly. A sense of immense peace fell upon the girl and dried her tears. Shortly, they approached a small cottage by the edge of a little stream that chattered invisibly in the night. A woman emerged from the door and wrapped a blanket around the quivering form of the girl. She bowed once to the retreating figure and took the child into the house. The girl fell into bed and knew no more that night. The woman stared into the darkness, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Within the hour agreed upon, the figure returned to that forsaken hilltop. His light was dimmed to the slight flickering of a dying candle. He stood before the men with a drooping head but a righteous fire blazed in his eyes. The king laughed him to scorn, drew his blade, and approached the apparently cowed creature. Steel flickered in the light as the blade struck home. The light dimmed and went out. As if from a vast distance, a great wailing cry rent the night, as if the earth itself had been mortally wounded by the blow. A wind came howling out of the west and clouds blotted out the sky. Darkness engulfed the world, lightning flashed in the heavens, and thunder rolled as if all creation reared up in fury at the atrocity that had occurred. The hill itself began to roll like a wave on the sea and split in two. The men were thrown from their feet and retreated in confusion and fear from the horror before them. Their horses reared and snorted, broke loose, and disappeared into the storm.

"What have you done!" roared one general over the wind. "

I have loosed the wrath of the heavens," screamed the king. A panic spread among them and all fled into the darkness.

The next morning, the girl rode up the accursed hill hoping to find some trace of her rescuer. She found the vile blade broken in two, but no sign of the mysterious glowing figure. She dismounted and peered with dismay into the gaping chasm that had once been the heart of the hill. "What is it you seek?" asked a voice behind her.

With a shriek of pure joy she flung her arms around the figure that now stood at her shoulder, glowing like the sun. "You are alive!" she said.

"Yes," said he simply.

"But what of last night?" asked she, "I was sure you had been slain. What of that horrible shriek and the dreadful darkness?"

"My life cannot be taken against my will. Before anything ever was and after all has passed into nothing, I was and ever will be. I laid down my life not only for you, but for all things that would have been utterly destroyed by the acts of last night. Your blood would have strengthened that foul demon beyond anything he has yet achieved. My blood offered willing in exchange for another's broke his power. What began in selfishness and evil, ended in selflessness and love, which alone has power to conquer the darkness. He has been vanquished but not destroyed. He still lurks in the world, full of malice and hate and ready to assist any who give themselves over to a lust for power and destruction. Until last night, mankind had lived in peace and harmony with one another and with all creation, but that peace has been shattered. Man has shown himself vulnerable to evil, willing to place himself above all else, even his own children. It is no longer safe to assume that all men are good in and of themselves. Each individual must hereafter make a decision to follow what is right and good, or to follow his own selfish path into evil and darkness. From the dawn of mankind, it was given into your hands to decide whether to pursue goodness or darkness. A member of your race has chosen the ultimate evil and with his fall, all are now required to make a decision that once came naturally to all."

The girl fell sobbing at his feet, feeling in herself the dreadful truth she had just heard spoken. It was as if something inside her had been torn or ripped away and she was left with a gaping hole, much like the defiled face of the hill. Looking up into his eyes, she said, "I have lost something within myself. I am no longer whole. I have a longing, a desire for something. Something, though I know not what. Something greater than myself."

"Yes," said he, "your whole race now shares that same longing. And with what you fill that hole will determine the course of your life, and the lives of all those around you, from now and ever onwards. Choose carefully."

"Can I choose you?" she asked hesitantly.

A smile crept over his face and the whole hillside seemed to laugh with joy. "Of course," he said. "After last night, the world is hurting and needs to be told these things which you have just heard. I need someone to go forth and tell them. Bring your horse forward."

The girl ran over to the horse, which had strayed and was happily nibbling at weeds upon the far side of the hill. She led the beast towards the figure. The stallion pulled back against the reins and nearly reared, trying to avoid the glowing figure before him. "Do not be afraid my simple beast," said the figure, "from now and ever onwards, you and your descendants will no longer be considered simple." The figure turned his side towards the girl and for the first time she saw the gaping wound in his side. From it dribbled a steady stream of silver blood. She gasped in horror and drew back. "Do not be afraid," he said, "this is the price of last night's adventure. Though much was lost, much good also came of it. Take a drop of my blood on your finger and place it on the horse's tongue." Hesitantly the girl complied. Almost reverently she poked a finger into the sliver stream and placed a drop of the precious fluid into the horse's mouth.

An indignant snort was followed by a blinding flash. She no longer held a horse by the reins but a unicorn. The sorrel coat had become white as the snow; wisdom and fire were in his once placid and simple eyes. Cloven hooves of silver had replaced his single hooves of grey. A silver horn protruded proudly from his forehead. He shook his head in disgust a few times and looked with dismay at the girl and the glowing figure.

"Remove his bit," laughed the figure. The girl complied and the unicorn seemed much happier. "Now it is your turn," said he. The girl looked with shock and disgust at the gaping hole in the figure's side and turned pleading eyes to his. "If you really wish to serve me, you must taste of my blood," he said, "by doing so you are binding yourself to me and my purposes. You will gain much in wisdom and abilities but in doing so you are also swearing to serve me, even with the forfeit of your life be it necessary. Do you wish to proceed?"

She nodded and did as she was bidden. She seemed to grow taller and a thirst for knowledge grew within her. A deeper understanding of things once hidden to mortal mind blossomed in her heart. She had changed as much as the horse.

"Now," said the figure," I will tell you of things long hidden to the race of men, things vital to your quest. The demon of war, to whom your father nearly sacrificed you, was once my greatest servant. But he desired things beyond his grasp and made an attempt to supplant me as The Master of All. He was banished from my presence and ever since has made war upon all that is good and wonderful. He has claimed lordship over all creation and still yearns for the power he cannot have. Until last night, he had made little progress in his war against me, but last night there came a breaking. Men, who had once lived in peace, have heeded his call and some have broken away from me seeking the power promised by their new master. Now all must decide whether to follow him or me. None can sit this out. By stepping aside, they are simply declaring themselves for him, if only by doing nothing. This is war, a war that has raged since before the world began, there can be no civilians. He will devour everything if all stand aside and let him. I will only do so much. I am Master of all things, but I have given all sapient creatures a choice, and upon that freedom I will not trespass. They must choose what is right or what is evil. I will not infringe upon their decisions for good or ill. If they choose the right, I can assist them, but if they choose the evil I can only stand aside and weep for their ill choices and dire fate. That is why I could not interfere directly in the affairs of last night. It is up to you, and those like you: my servants, to pursue evil in whatever form or guise it takes and do what you must to defeat it and to defend the innocent. You must spread word of this through all lands and to all peoples. It will not be easy and there will be great heartache along the way but you will never be alone; it must be done or evil will consume the world and all within it. Last night a deadly blow was dealt to my enemy, but he is still lurking about and still very powerful. In the end, he will be completely vanquished but until that final day, you are all that stands between the world and devastation. A rent has been created in the hearts of men. They will yearn for me and try to fill the gap with all sorts of vain things. You must tell them the truth of what you have seen. Last night, the innocence of man was lost, but by my blood it can be healed."

The girl had been held spellbound by the tale. The light around the figure dimmed a little, just enough so that she could make out his full form. She had glimpsed a horse-like figure last night and this morning, but now saw him fully, as if a fog had lifted. He was similar to the unicorn standing at her shoulder, but taller and more terrible; his horn and hooves were of gold and he glowed with the very light of the sun.

"Your faithful steed will be the father of the race of mortal unicorns and you shall be the first among a great and future throng of my servants. I will hereafter withdraw from wandering abroad in the world but I will be found by those who seek me. Go forth and teach what you have been taught, fight evil, and protect the innocent." With that he seemed to glow brighter and as the sun topped the head of the hill, vanished into the blinding rays.

### A Council of Wyrms

"Hello?" came a sweet, small voice echoing into the depths of the cave, "Is anybody there?"

Snorg grunted indignantly as he came awake a year or two early from a rather long nap. "Go away," said the groggy green dragon, "I am trying to sleep and you are not helping the matter."

"Oh," sighed the small voice, "I hoped to find a dragon."

"A dragon?" said Snorg in amusement, "Whatever would you do with a dragon?"

A smile was heard in the little voice, "mother said I could have a pet so I set out all by myself to find a dragon."

"A pet?" said the dragon, trying very hard to conceal a laugh, "How would you keep a dragon as a pet?"

"Oh, I would chain him up in the backyard," squeaked the little voice in sheer delight.

"And what would you feed him?" asked the dragon in growing amusement, sensing this to be a very young and precocious child of the human variety.

"Grass of course," said the little girl, "they are green from all the grass they eat. We have lots and lots of grass."

The dragon would have been rolling on the floor of his great cave in mirth had he not forced himself to be polite, saying, "we must discuss this matter thoroughly of course but are you not a little young to be running about alone? Your parents must be beside themselves with worry. We shall discuss how to properly capture a dragon as I escort you home."

He crawled from his cave to find a very miffed young lady before him, who scolded, "I am a BIG girl and can take care of myself."

The dragon said gently, "it is one thing to be a big girl and quite another to be a good girl."

The little girl looked quite nervous, "oh."

"Yes," said the dragon, "a good girl, no matter her size, would not disobey her mother. Size is of no matter if you are not also a good girl."

She nodded quite seriously and said firmly, "you are right. I want to be a good girl too! What must I do?"

The dragon smiled, "you shall accompany me to your house and on the way we shall discuss your dragon conundrum." She smiled and they walked slowly back to her house (by draconian standards) but quite swiftly by her thinking. He said, "I am a dragon."

She said, "yes, but I do not think I can tie you to the maple tree."

The dragon laughed, "no but I would be willing to be friends. Dragons do not take well to domestication." She gave him a confused look and he said, "we do not make good pets but the best of companions."

She laughed and said, "I want to be your friend too."

Suddenly the dragon stopped and sniffed the air; it was heavy with the scent of burning wood. His sharp eyes saw the cloud of smoke emanating from a point directly upon their path. This could not be good. They walked on, the dragon ever on the alert for some sign of danger. The Wilds were a terrible place to raise a family, for danger lurked around every corner; the human predators were worse than any creature of the forest depths. The smoke grew thick as they came to the place where the girl's home had once stood. There was no sign of a living thing in the farmyard, outbuildings, or surrounding countryside. He sighed heavily, it looked as if the child was the sole survivor of her intrepid family; her disobedience had inadvertently saved her life.

She looked around in surprise, not quite understanding what had happened, and queried in her birdlike voice, "where are mamma and daddy? Where is my little brother? Little brothers do not make good pets either, they are noisy and annoying and you cannot tie them to the maple tree. Is it not a beautiful tree Snog?"

He smiled sadly and said, "yes child, it is a beautiful tree. Your family is not here anymore it seems. You must come and stay with me for a time."

"Really?" said she in delight.

Then her face fell, "you will not tie me to a tree will you?"

He laughed, "no child, that I will never do, at least if you try your best to be a good girl."

She smiled contentedly but said, "mamma said never to go off with strangers but I suppose it is alright since we are friends already. Will my family miss me? Where are they? When will I see them again?"

Snorg said sadly, "they are gone away, perhaps forever. Certainly they shall miss you. Hopefully they are in a happier place."

She gave him a thoughtful look, "why did they not wait for me?"

He said gently, "it was not yet your time to go with them."

"A happier place?" asked the girl, "Where might that be? I thought there could be no happier place than our cozy kitchen."

The dragon asked, "did no one ever speak of other places?"

She looked thoughtful for a moment and said, "mamma sometimes spoke about some other country I think. Yes, when granny went away, mamma said she went to the happiest country in the whole world or even beyond it. Is that where mamma went?"

Snorg smiled, "if they know of that place and how to get there, then I am sure that is where they have gone and there they will wait for you one day."

"How do I get there Snorg?" asked she, "I think I shall miss them very much."

Snorg smiled weakly, "you will certainly miss them, but do not worry, they will miss you too. You must trust the Master to find that country one day."

She laughed, "I do, I do! Oh, it is not fair that they all left me behind."

Snorg smiled, "it perhaps seems unfair but things are as they must be and we have to wait patiently until our own turn comes to go to that wonderful place."

She smiled, "good girls must be patient, so I will be patient though it will not be easy."

The sound of approaching hooves caught the dragon's ear as he turned his head suddenly to face the coming onslaught, while he drew the child beneath him with one of his great forearms. A half dozen horsemen galloped into the farmyard but the second their horses caught sight of the dragon, they went mad with terror and flung their riders to the ground. The men got to their feet, and though shaking with fear, approached the monster, their leader said, "what have you done? Caught in the act! Is it war you want monster? Why destroy innocent folk for the mere joy of it?"

The dragon looked at the man in astonishment and then thought what the scene must look like to the newcomer: the smoldering house with a dragon sitting before it. Snorg tried not to laugh but said as respectfully as he could, "you are quite mistaken sir. I would never commit such a crime."

The man snorted derisively, "then who burned the house? Do not tell me you do not have a ready source of fire."

The dragon yawned expansively, showing his terrible teeth, and said, "if you will notice, the softer ground in the area is trampled by numerous hooves, which suggests a large party of mounted men. Dragonfire would have utterly consumed the house and the ground upon which it sits had I been the culprit, and as you can see there are still several upright beams and the ground is quite unscathed. What have I to gain from such a crime? Whereas bandits could certainly take what they want and flee, destroying the house and perhaps the family with it for the sheer joy of destruction."

The man said, "that is certainly a convincing argument but if true, what are you doing here?"

The dragon then drew forth the terrified little girl and said, "she awoke me from a much needed nap and I set out to return her home when I discovered she was gone with none the wiser. What are you doing here?"

The man scratched nervously at the back of his neck and looked at the ground, saying, "we saw the smoke and gathered up as many men as quickly as we could to help but it seems we came too late."

"But the fun is only beginning," snarled a sinister draconian voice, as a small black dragon landed not far from his much larger green conspecific.

"What are you talking about?" said Snorg, with ill-contained menace in his voice, "What part have you in this tragedy?"

"None," said the black, preening himself like a cat, then he smiled maliciously and said, "yet."

"Be gone," said the green as patiently as he could, "enough evil has been done this day."

The black scoffed, "you would defend these miserable creatures from me? Your own kinsman?"

Snorg scoffed, "we are certainly not related, unless we are very distant cousins. And yes, I will not allow these poor little things to come to harm if I can help it."

"Humph," snorted the black in disgust, "they are worse than rodents, all of them. Of what interest can that be to you?"

Snorg said gravely, "it is a moral obligation that the strong protect the weak from imminent harm."

"Moral obligation indeed!" scoffed the younger dragon, "You green dragons are all the same: always preaching endlessly about goodness and all its disgusting cousins. What proof have you that there is even such a thing as right and wrong?"

Snorg said patiently, "has not the Master written in upon the heart of every thinking creature? Is it not His will that we abide by His laws?"

The black fell back laughing and finally catching his breath, said, "the Master! Bah! If he even exists, he certainly would never care about the miniscule affairs of mortal beasts. You sound like one of the Brethren prattling on like that! One would think you were not a thinking creature yourself! If your perfect and loving Master is as you think him to be or even exists at all, why is it that he allows his beloved creatures to endure such horrors as lay before us? What has that wretched child done to endure the loss of her entire family or what has her family done to garner the wrath of the Master? Why are creatures such as myself, selfish and evil to our core, allowed to endure while seemingly decent folk perish?"

"That is an excellent question," blurted out the boldest of the men, "I never took the time to worry about philosophy and all that, I had enough to do just eking a living out of this wild land, but I think our late neighbors were about as devout a bunch as could be found outside the Brethren. Is this how your benevolent Master repays his own?"

The black dragon smiled in amusement and said to the man, "there is hope for you yet my pathetic fellow."

The man cowered back amongst his fellows in terror after such a compliment from such a source. The little girl watched wide-eyed but unafraid, as 'Snog' would certainly protect her, not understanding but knowing something of great import was being discussed. Undaunted, Snorg said, "you challenge my conception of and the very existence of the Master based upon the fact that the innocent seem to suffer unjustly while the truly guilty endure for a time?"

"Exactly," sneered the black dragon, "either your Lord does not exist, he is not as powerful as you claim, he is uninterested in mortal affairs, or he is some sort of malicious fellow rather than love incarnate as you claim him to be, else such affairs would not happen. Logically he should bless those who bless him and curse those who curse him."

Snorg replied, "there is certainly much evil and suffering in the world, and much tragedy is endured unjustly according to mortal reckoning. With that I cannot argue. However your argument fails to address all that is good and lovely in the world. What of that? If there were only sorrow and pain, I would be forced to agree that perhaps the Master is powerless to stop it, nonexistent, uncaring, distant, or himself malicious, but from whence do such things as joy, love, and beauty spring if not from some wonderful fount? If the Master does exist as I hold him to be: loving, just, righteous, omniscient, and omnipresent, then there had best be a logical explanation for the suffering and evil in the world. And there is, but I think you have no such explanation for the origins of everything, the source of evil and good, etc." The men looked intrigued while the black dragon looked quite annoyed; the little girl was eagerly impatient, for she felt that a story must soon be told. Snorg asked of the black, "and what is your explanation my fine fellow?"

The black snorted in irritation, "you certainly think that all sprang forth at the Master's whim, but I care little for myths about the origin of life and care not to guess about things in which I have no part. I know what the world is like and I content myself with that."

Snorg snorted in amusement, "very convincing that. You have very nearly converted me."

The black sneered, "and what is your defense as to why this little one must suffer so?"

The green dragon yawned greatly and said, "I have no idea."

The black dragon laughed heartily, "I rest my case."

"Not so fast," said Snorg patiently, "I am not the Master therefore I have no idea as to the reason why certain things do or do not happen to certain individuals, but I can explain somewhat why there is such a concept as sorrow in the world."

The black looked bored but eager to catch his foe in embarrassment and said, "enlighten us then, the suspense is horrifying."

Snorg gave him a patient look and said, "as far as I have understood, the world was once as we would all imagine it to be: perfect, unspoiled, and wonderful. But something happened to change all that. The Master gave each thinking creature a will of its own; He gave each the choice of choosing to obey his Maker or not. Some chose to rebel and this of course marred all creation and sundered us from the Master."

The black snorted derisively, "so why did your precious Master not just destroy the offenders and begin anew with creatures unable to rebel? Why leave a rotten and broken world as we currently find ourselves inhabiting?"

Snorg continued, "again I cannot claim to speak for the Master, but the short version can be summed up by one word: love. He loves each of us so much that He would rather suffer a ruined creation than utterly destroy all He had wrought. Why did He give us the option to deny Him in the first place? If you have no choice, you are not an independent thinking entity and nothing more than one of the unthinking animals. You cannot have a reciprocal relationship with an unthinking creature. You can have a faithful and loving dog, but it is in no way the same thing as having a loving and faithful human companion. I think the Master wants that sort of relationship with each of us, but it is our choice whether or not to return His love."

"How can your perfect Master have a relationship with a rebellious creature?" asked the black dragon scornfully.

"He cannot," said Snorg quietly, "He is utterly perfect and cannot consort with His fallen creatures unless they too are restored to some state of holiness. The price for rebellion is justly death, but the price of justice has been met on our behalf by the Master Himself. He who was immortal, eternal, and perfect took on mortal form and allowed Himself to die on behalf of each and every thinking creature that we may be counted perfect in His sight and that our relationship to Him might be restored."

"He is dead then," said the black triumphantly, "that is why he cannot aid his servants!"

Snorg sighed patiently and continued, "He was dead but death cannot hold such as He! He overthrew the grave and lives once more and has given us each the chance to know Him. Some of us make excuses or flatly ignore His offer to our eternal peril."

The black dragon yawned and the men looked flummoxed. The black said, "a lovely bedtime tale I am sure, but you can proselytize all you want and you shall never convince me. Even if I wanted to believe, I would not, for it takes all the fun out of life. And what does it gain its adherents but an ascetic life and yet they are still victims to the whims of nature and men."

The green dragon laughed deeply, "you are no skeptic, you plainly deny the Master any influence in your life! You delight in your debauchery and would not make such a sacrifice even to ransom your soul. It is no dull and dreary life, but one that is at last whole and full of purpose and meaning. Keep your fickle amusements, but I shall not deny Him who makes me whole." The black dragon laughed menacingly before leaping into the air and vanishing like a black rain cloud into the distance.

"You really believe all that?" asked the skeptical man, once the monster had disappeared beyond sight, "Why then are such as she allowed to suffer?"

The dragon looked at him firmly and said, "because men have chosen evil over good and much suffering is the result. There will come a time when all wrongs are righted and all injustices cease, but the Master wishes that all have a chance to come to Him willingly thus He allows men to live on for a time as they choose, hoping they will turn their hearts to Him. We do not understand why some innocents suffer and some evil men prosper, but we must trust that all will one day be set aright."

The man's eyes were wide as he asked, "and if they do not choose the Master?"

Snorg said grimly, "those that deny Him spend all eternity without Him. If He is the source of all that is good and wonderful, think what it must be like without the source of all light and joy. It would be far worse than life without the sun!"

"But if he loves us that much," said another man, "how can he allow any to perish?"

"He would not," said the dragon, "but yet He allows us the freedom to choose our eternal destiny. If He took that choice away, again we would be nothing but unthinking brutes."

"It all seems so strange," said a third man, "but at the same time wonderful."

"I do not have time for such flights of fancy," scoffed a fourth and a fifth nodded.

"I still do not understand," said the last man, "but I am certainly intrigued. What of the child?"

"I am going to live with Snog!" proclaimed the girl ecstatically.

The men looked stunned, but before they could offer a protest, the sound of approaching feet and breaking branches announced visitors from the direction of the forest. All were silent a moment in astonishment, when the little girl shrieked in pure joy, "mama!"

She left Snorg's protective custody and ran into her rather astonished mother's arms. Her father stood at his wife's shoulder and held the infamous brother by the hand. They all looked with a combination of fear and awe upon the great dragon that towered over the farmstead and their nearest neighbors.

"What happened?" gasped the first man, in some amazement and with no little joy, "we were certain brigands had torched the house and murdered the entire family."

The woman sighed, but joy at the return of her daughter tinged her voice, "it has been a very strange day. First the horses broke loose and we spent the better part of the morning chasing them around the yard. In the meantime, the girl went missing and we abandoned the horses to find the missing child, but in my haste I left the washing a bit too close to the hearth and the boy pushed it even closer. It caught fire and it was all I could do to escape the house with my son before the whole thing went up in flames. There was nothing to be done for the house so we continued to look for the child. We returned to find a dragon sitting in the yard but thankfully our daughter as well."

The first man said, "that is quite a tale of tragedy yet not half so tragic as we had all assumed! We shall certainly help you rebuild, you lost nothing that cannot be replaced."

The girl looked smilingly at her mother and said of Snorg, "can I keep him?"

The woman looked at the dragon and then at her errant child and said, "no, but I think he may visit from time to time, will that suffice you?"

The girl sighed, "it is hard being a good girl but I suppose it will have to do."

Her mother eyed her suspiciously and the dragon laughed. She bowed deeply to the dragon, "thank you for returning my child, we are forever in your debt."

The dragon shook his head, "certainly not dear lady. It was my honor and privilege to escort her home. I shall certainly drop by from time to time just to see how things are going with you and yours as you have so kindly given me permission. I am glad to see that no greater harm has come to you than the loss of material possessions."

The woman laughed, "and we can truly thank the Master for that. I would offer everyone tea but my pot is lost amongst the ruins of the house!" They all shared her relief and joy and soon enough, with the help of the entire community, the house was soon replaced. The dragon became a favorite among the locals and a frequent visitor to the area. The black dragon watched and laughed scornfully, awaiting the day when he would be big enough to challenge the green dragon and perhaps win. Then he could safely destroy the entire community just for the sheer joy of destruction. His heart was not touched in the least by the green's tale, but many of the folk in the vicinity were moved and many gave their hearts joyfully to the Master.

A Family Affair

The creature ran like the wind, only such an elemental comparison would do, as no other beast upon four legs could move like a unicorn. Over logs and streams, the creature took to the air as if flying were his true mode of travel and when once more he deigned to alight upon the earth, the smoothness and speed of his movements made one think he was still borne aloft. The two boys upon his back laughed with the pure exhilaration of youth and speed. Finally the creature stayed his flight in a bright meadow. The boys exchanged a few words, with the rearmost rider sliding quickly from the saddle as the unicorn reared and screamed a challenge. He was answered in the same manner, the boy yet astride drew his sword as another mounted man entered the meadow, and all was soon a swirl of clashing swords and plunging equine forms. The second boy watched in stunned silence until the two combatants slid panting and laughing from their saddles and embraced warmly, and then beckoned for the amused spectator to join them.

The older man looked upon the pair with delight and pride saying, "I would hardly be able to tell you two apart even though Ryne is my own son!" The boys laughed and exchanged a delighted grin at their respective uncle and father's words.

Bryant laughed, "it is a good thing then that Ryne has joined the Brethren that you might now tell us apart." They laughed all the more and returned to their waiting saddles and began the journey back to Astoria at a pleasant pace, exchanging greetings and news upon the way.

Bryant was the crown prince of Albergia, but had been sent by his father to Astoria to study two years ago that he might be better prepared to rule when his own turn came. Upon his arrival, he had been astonished to meet a boy about his own age that was very nearly his own twin. He knew he had an aunt and uncle among the Brethren but never knew they had a son, especially one with so similar an appearance. Bryant's mother was a native of Astoria, who had caught the King's eye one day as he had passed through that country on a diplomatic tour of the East of the world; upon returning to Albergia, the King had sent his younger brother to make the necessary arrangements for a marriage with the charming young lady. As it would happen, the young prince had himself been enchanted by the bride-to-be's sister and after all was settled with the King and new Queen, Merrick had returned to Astoria and married her sister.

It was something of a scandal at the time that a prince would abandon his rank and title to marry a foreign peasant, but after, little was said of the matter save that eventually the pair had joined the Brethren and that the madman had thereby forever given up any chance of rank, title, property, and renown. What was not known in general, actually to none but the King and Queen, was that Merrick had a son about the same time his brother's heir was born.

When Ryne was old enough, he had requested of his parents that he might be allowed to attend classes with the Brethren with the intent of joining them when he was of age. His parents were delighted and told him of their own wish to join that esteemed company but of their inability to do so until the boy was old enough to choose his own future. So it was, that Ryne came to live in Astoria and his parents took their Oath that very day. Two years later, Ryne followed suit. Ryne had only been in Astoria for a few months when his cousin arrived. All were amazed at the resemblance and Merrick quickly wrote to his brother of the likeness, as neither had ever before seen their respective nephews. The boys were fast friends, and only Ryne's Oath-taking a month prior had ever caused a division between them. Now that Ryne was an Apprentice of the Brethren, their lives began to diverge and take radically different paths. For now, they could still attend classes and spend their Free Day together, but soon Ryne would set out with his Mentor upon his own adventures and Bryant would return to Albergia to take his place at court. Today was perhaps their last wild ride together.

But their pleasant ride back to the city was cut short as both the unicorns suddenly stopped and pricked their ears. The two Brethren exchanged a look and said as one, "the Lady immediately requires our presence!" Bryant shook his head in confusion and the unicorns resumed their journey with all speed. When they entered the courtyard of the castle, Bryant was left standing awkwardly after the hasty farewells of his companions as the two hurried away to attend the Lady. Bryant wondered vaguely what could be the emergency, before wandering off in search of something to eat and less harried companions.

The two Brethren bowed themselves into the Lady's presence and stood before her, alongside Ryne's mother and one of the Messengers called Aven. Once all were assembled, the Lady began, "I have just received word from the King of Albergia that he is deathly ill with some slow wasting disease and fears he will not live out the month. But what has him most concerned is that he suspects some sort of plot against his life and throne. He suspects some slow poison rather than a natural illness and has asked our aid in this matter."

Merrick asked, "is the prince to be told?"

The Lady shook her head gravely, "alas I fear not, for his father fears for his son's life as well. He also knows his son well enough to know he is likely to do something rash if he learns of the matter. Therefore I am sending three of you to straighten out this matter and see that Bryant has a secure throne to assume upon his father's death. Ryne, I must ask you to take your cousin's place until this matter is resolved."

All were stunned at the proposal and Merrick said in astonishment, "but Lady, should something happen to the King, the boy might be asked to assume the throne and would that not violate his Oath?"

The Lady smiled sadly, "he will be a King only in name, in truth he shall merely be a place holder until his cousin can safely take his place. This shall be a very dangerous and delicate task, especially for one who is yet an Apprentice but for the sake of Albergia and Bryant himself, this thing must be done. Are you willing to assume the risk Ryne?"

The boy bowed deeply and said in tones of reverence and fear, "my life is ever yours to command Lady."

She smiled deeply and said, "then you shall travel to Albergia in the guise of your cousin and take his rightful duties upon yourself until this plot is ended. Aven shall be your Mentor and protector, ever at your side to help you unravel this riddle. Your mother shall have a place amongst the Queen's ladies. Merrick, you shall not be going, but as this is a family matter I thought you should know of the situation. Helm, my Advisor to the King of Albergia, shall also be there to aid you at need. Under no circumstances is Bryant to know of this until all is finished." They bowed themselves from her presence, exchanged hurried goodbyes with Merrick, and each quickly made ready for their journey. Aven and Ryne set out together and the Queen's sister made her own way to Albergia to quietly take her place at court.

As Ryne was preparing to leave, Bryant found him in the stable and asked, "what is going on?"

Ryne said sadly, "I have been assigned a Mentor and we leave immediately."

Bryant asked, "where are you going?"

Ryne shook his head, "that I cannot say, but it is a dangerous mission."

Bryant smiled sadly, "why did you want to go and be a Messenger? If you must be crazy enough to join the Brethren, you could at least be wise enough to join the Philosophers like your parents. It is much safer that way!" Ryne smiled at his friend, knowing his complaints came from his concern for his safety. They embraced and said their goodbyes, even as Aven summoned his charge to be off. Bryant watched them go with a sad smile on his face, wondering if he would ever see Ryne again.

The journey was swiftly made and there was much rejoicing in Albergia at the return of the Prince. The people loved their king dearly and were distressed over his illness, but the return of the heir brought a little joy back into these otherwise dark days. Once all the festivities and ceremonial appearances were finally completed, the King and Queen summoned Ryne and Aven to a private audience. They had been astounded at the similarity of the cousins and quite pleased at the boy's success in all of the tasks set him thus far; no one suspected anything was amiss. The king lay on his couch with the Queen standing beside him. He greeted the boy warmly and thanked him profusely for helping his family and Albergia in such a crisis. The boy bowed in embarrassment and mumbled something about only doing his duty. Aven asked after any suspicions or known treacheries surrounding the King's illness but he knew nothing more than that he was quite sure he had been poisoned and that the traitor was still at large and eager for the throne.

Two weeks later the King was dead. In her grief, the Queen inadvertently sent a letter to her son, forgetting that he knew nothing of the circumstances. Bryant received the letter and read in grief, astonishment, and horror that his father was dead and that his cousin had taken the throne for his own. In a rage, he left Astoria immediately to reclaim what was rightfully his. The Queen had not mentioned that there was a plot afoot nor that Ryne was only posing, not intending to keep the appointment indefinitely.

Ryne was astonished to go through all the ceremony and pomp attending his Uncle's demise and the ensuing coronation and assumption of the throne. It was quite a surreal experience but Aven was ever at his side to give him strength and advice. The new king's many advisors strongly recommended that he distance himself from the man from Astoria, especially as he came into his own, but Ryne was determined to have Aven at his side until this riddle was unraveled. Those who had plotted against the former King bided their time, chafing at the presence of one of the Brethren so close to the neophyte King but also knowing that they could do nothing for a time or the people's suspicions might be aroused. They knew not that their plot was suspected and that there were those ever watching for some sign of their treachery, but for now they were silent and therefore went undetected but when the time was right, they would strike again. They had hoped the young king would be malleable and open to their influence, but for one so young he was quite stubborn and determined to rule justly, rather than as his advisors might prefer, such as to their advantage. If such had been the case, the boy might be allowed to live and to rule, but as it was, he must be destroyed as had his father before him. But they must wait their chance. However, something came about to interfere with their carefully laid plans.

Ryne and Aven occasionally found the need for a private word together, and not daring to trust such a delicate discussion to the much traveled corridors of the castle, they preferred to ride out alone when necessary. It was upon one such foray that tragedy struck and all the plans of those plotting against them were thrown into disarray. They were riding slowly through the woods, discussing their mission and complete lack of progress therewith, when the unicorns alerted them to mounted strangers in the vicinity. Arrows rained down upon them and all soon lay upon the ground. Aven's mount had died and thus vanished almost instantly. Ryne's faithful companion lay upon the ground, groaning and mortally wounded. The fall had rendered Ryne senseless and Aven lay unmoving with two arrows in his back. Their attackers rode into the clearing, smiled at the carnage, collected the senseless King, and rode off leaving the rest for dead. Aven lay half-conscious, aware of nothing but the pain in his back, but he felt a gentle prodding at his shoulder. The pain vanished, as did the shadows growing across his vision.

He found himself face to face with the Master, Who said quietly, "ride back to the city and inform the King's advisors that he has fallen into the hands of bandits." Suddenly He was gone. Aven stood weakly and saw the unicorn struggling to his feet. The pair exchanged a grim look, as it was obvious, though the pain was gone, that the arrows still remained embedded where they had struck. They both knew that once their message was delivered that their own time was at an end. Aven climbed aback Ryne's unicorn and they rode back towards the city, though both wanted to go after the boy, they knew that that was not to be.

A few people gasped to see the man and beast pass, injured as they were, but most in the bustling city hardly noticed. The guards let them pass unquestioned as Aven was well known to them, but they gaped in astonishment as the unicorn collapsed and vanished as Aven dismounted. He watched sadly and knew his own time was short. He sought out the King's closest advisors and greatest lords, once assembled, he said, "the King has been kidnapped by bandits. We were overcome as we rode through the woods this morning."

One of the generals scoffed, "and you left him to his fate?"

One of the lords groused, "have you any proof or is this all some elaborate hoax or a plot you yourself have hatched?"

Aven's only answer was to tumble forward, revealing the two arrows protruding from his unmoving form. The assembled lords gasped in amazement and one grumbled to the waiting servant, "fetch Helm and have him dispose of his comrade's remains." The others drew together to discuss what was to be done about the missing King. Those plotting against the King wondered what this would mean to their own plans. They could not be seen as lax in their search for his Majesty but neither were they pleased that others were trespassing upon their territory. They discussed with their innocent comrades but were desperate to get away and discuss the matter privately amongst themselves.

Ryne awoke in great pain and confusion and grief. He had seen the others fall, could no longer sense his unicorn, and knew them all to be dead. But soon the pain overcame even his grief as his captors desperately tried to make him speak. There was a hooded man there who demanded to know all that was passing in the court of Albergia and what his own role was. Ryne's only answers were to scream or groan in agony as his captors pressed him for answers. Then, gasping for air and dizzy with pain, his agonized mind saw Aven standing quietly before him. He could not speak for wonder at seeing such a figment, but Aven said, "you may tell them all, for it is your cousin who has taken you, and to him now falls the mission."

Aven vanished and Ryne finally gasped out, "I am ready to speak but to your leader alone will I do so."

The hooded man dismissed his cronies and laughed darkly, "it is about time fool! Why did you lie to me and take my rightful place?"

Ryne said dazedly, "I forgive you Bryant, for all you have inflicted upon me."

Bryant gasped, "how did you know?!"

Ryne pressed on even as his strength failed, "your father was murdered by men unknown and he feared for you and all Albergia. He asked that I be sent to take your place until the plot was uncovered, that you might assume the throne in safety and peace..." His words trailed off and his head dropped to his chest as death took him. Bryant's heart was frozen in horror, guilt, and sorrow as he was overwhelmed by the veracity of his cousin's words. He had felt himself betrayed and vowed vengeance, but it was for Bryant's sake that Ryne had risked everything, only to die in agony at the hand of the one he had given all to protect. The irony was tragic.

Bryant suddenly saw Aven standing beside him, yet another man he had murdered for no good cause. Aven said quietly, "there is ever hope and forgiveness in the Master. The great lords and advisors of Albergia know the King has been taken by bandits, I was sent to tell you both these things."

Bryant asked quietly, "there is yet hope for my throne?"

Aven shook his head, "I speak of eternal hope, hope for your soul, which is of more value than any number of thrones. What hope there is for mortal affairs, I know not. But seek healing for your blighted soul in the Master's grace and mercy."

Suddenly he was gone and Bryant was alone with his grief, but he knew his hired thugs were nearby and lest disaster ensue, he must keep up appearances. He yelled loud enough for his mercenaries to hear, "cut the wretch down and hide his carcass in the woods." As much as he wished to give his murdered friend a proper burial, it would not be in keeping with his persona as leader of a murderous band, but neither could he associate with such criminals afterwards, either. They disposed of the body, and after paying them well, he dismissed them that he might grieve and seek solace for his fractured soul.

He vanished into the depths of the forest, and what anguish of heart and mind pursued him thither none can say, but there he mourned and begged the Master's forgiveness for all the evil he had wrought. There he found healing, though ever it was a deep and abiding wound that remained all the rest of his days, though he was not without hope, peace, and the ever present joy of the Master's healing. He donned his hood once more, that he might not be recognized, and made his way back into the city wondering how to proceed. The news of the King's abduction had set the Kingdom into an uproar and the Lords and Queen Mother had all they could do to keep order. Search parties were sent out but nothing was ever found.

Bryant presented himself to the gate guards and asked if he might see the Brethren's Advisor to the King. The guards asked for a name and the boy said, "I am the cousin of an apprentice of his acquaintance called Ryne." The guards shook their heads at this strange man who would not show his face nor give his name but the message was passed along. Helm was not considered a very important person else he might never have received such a summons but no one worried about inconveniencing such an inglorious personage. Knowing full well who this visitor must be, Helm hurried to the gate and immediately took charge of the young prince. The guards shook their heads in wonderment but allowed the boy to pass.

Once alone, the prince told his full, horrible tale. Helm was silent in horror and amazement and said, "perhaps we can use this to draw out those plotting against your father, though what is to follow I know not."

The boy's mother and aunt were summoned and Bryant had to explain to Ryne's mother how her son had died by his direction. She withdrew weeping, but said quietly as she did so, "this is news to rend my heart, but know that I forgive you, if only by the Master's strength."

Bryant's own tears were renewed with these words as he watched the heartbroken woman withdraw. His own mother looked upon him with some combination of horror and grief but said, "how are we to finish what your cousin gave his life to begin?" They talked long until a plan was drafted, now all that could be done was to hope the villains would be drawn to the bait. A letter of ransom was produced and delivered to the greatest of the Lords of Albergia. It demanded literally a King's ransom for the return of the King but also hinted that other arrangements perhaps might be made. A place was appointed and it was asked that only three representatives come and that they come alone, else the perpetrator would fail to appear. The lords talked long amongst themselves but finally three were appointed with the power to negotiate with the villain.

They appeared at the appointed inn at the set time and the hooded villain appeared when he knew them to be alone. Said the first lord, "what is it you want?"

The villain replied, "perhaps the better question is what are you after? Ere the King died, there was some talk of a plot against him. Now that I have the new King, perhaps the plot still ensues and I would have my part in it. That is, if we can come to a mutual agreement."

The three exchanged a look and a dark smile and their leader said, "I would love to know how you came by this knowledge but so cunning a mind must be congenial to ours. We are they who murdered the late King and seek the demise of the new. If you could arrange for his permanent disappearance, we would be most grateful and are willing to pay handsomely for the attainment thereof."

Asked the hooded man, "are there others involved in this plot? I would know that I have dealt with them all that there be no discord between us."

The first spoke, "we three are those who plotted against the King. Know that by speaking to us, you have spoken to us all."

"That is all I needed to know," said a grim voice from behind them. Helm stood and revealed himself from the stack of crates behind which he had been hiding. He continued, "you are under arrest for the murder of the King and plotting against the crown prince."

Snarled the first, "how did you find us out? Where is the new King?"

Bryant removed his hood and said, "you look upon him." The men would have fought, but they found themselves outnumbered as a dozen guards also revealed their presence. They gave up without a fight and were led away to face trial. Said Bryant sadly as the traitors were led away, "now what shall come of my reign? I am far guiltier than they, for they murdered one man, I killed four thinking creatures and one brutally!"

Helm said quietly, "that the Lady must decide."

"In the meantime," said Bryant sadly, "there is one thing we must attend to." The Lady was sent for and while they waited, Bryant led them to the place where Ryne had fallen. They found the bones scattered and the once rich clothes tattered by the scavengers come to prey on the corpse. They buried Ryne in the Pauper's cemetery beside Aven, his mother and Helm sang the Brethren's ancient song of mourning over the grave. Bryant wept, "should we not erect some sort of memorial or at least a marker?"

Ryne's mother smiled sadly through her tears, saying, "it is not our way. The story shall live on as Ryne himself lives on in the Master's bright country." She turned her face and wept at being so sundered from her son. The Lady herself arrived not long after, leaving Astoria for the first time in memory to settle this dreadful affair. Merrick came with her and was devastated by the tale, but did his best to comfort his grieving wife. Bryant was miserable during the whole affair, knowing himself forgiven by both the Master and those who loved Ryne best, but wishing to face the justice he knew he deserved. Murderer though he be, they did not forget him in their grief and tried as they could to encourage and console him.

Finally, all was ready for the trial of the traitors against the crown and also for the revelation of the full tale. The villains behind the plot pled guilty; it was a simple tale of greed and lust for power. The surprise came to all who heard Bryant's part in the tale for the first time. This man was to be their King? Bryant himself felt the same and said as the tale drew to a close, "Lady, whatever justice demands let me pay, but in no way can I ever rule this people. Let another more worthy of the title ascend the throne."

One of the lords came forward and said, "the boy speaks truly my Lady, the people will never accept such a man as their King, it would be worse than had the villains accomplished their plot! Let the King's brother assume the throne as he is the rightful heir!"

Merrick, with tears in his eyes at the plight of his nephew and grieving both his son and brother said, "I cannot assume the throne for I am bound to the Brethren!"

The Lady talked quietly with Merrick's wife and then said, "for the sake of the peace of Albergia, it would be best if you did so Merrick, at least until a proper replacement is found. You must lay aside your Oath and take up your brother's throne."

Merrick was aghast but his wife nodded sadly. He gasped, "can I truly do such a thing without imperiling my soul?"

The Lady smiled sadly, "you are not breaking Oath my friend, you are simply laying it aside for duty calls you elsewhere. You may take it up again one day if such is your wish, once the Kingship is passed to a worthy heir."

He sighed, nodded, and said, "it shall be as it must Lady." He knelt beside his wife, before the Lady and all Albergia and there laid aside his Oath and was crowned King of Albergia. Bryant wept to think how much he had cost so many out of pure selfishness and thoughtlessness.

With a tear in her eye, the Lady said to Bryant, "you had best come back to Astoria and there we shall discuss what justice means." The boy nodded, wiped the tears from his eyes, and made his farewells to those he had so grievously wronged. The people saw him led away, a seemingly resigned prisoner of the Brethren and they were content to know that he would be dealt with justly.

The grieving Bryant was nearly desperate to have it all over and done with; he felt his guilt and sorrow were near to undoing him. Finally, as they came within sight of Astoria, the Lady took him aside and said, "justice demands your life. Either you must go to the headsman or give up your life in service to the Brethren." He stared at her as if she were mad. But she was deadly serious and he knew it. He thought the axe would be a relief but then thought how much of a waste that would be, especially when Ryne and Aven had given their lives for this cause and he had taken their service from the Lady. Merrick and his wife had also been lost to the Brethren by his rash deeds. He was only one man, but he would give back a little of what he had wantonly taken rather than spill more needless blood even though it was his own. He knelt that day before the Lady and spent the rest of his life in service to the Brethren and the Master, and finally his heart was at peace.

Merrick and the Queen were astounded to find themselves parents once more, especially within a year of the events here recorded. While little Aven would never replace his lost brother in his parents' hearts, he brought joy and hope back into the lives of many, especially the aggrieved people of Albergia. His cousin Bryant was delighted when the royal couple brought him to visit Astoria on a tour of state, but his tears of remembrance over what had been did not escape the Lady nor his aunt and uncle. The boy grew into manhood and once he was wise enough and old enough, his father passed on the crown of Albergia and he and the late Queen returned to Astoria and resumed their service with the Brethren.

### A Fool Propheteth Little

"You must go," said a wondrous voice to the sleepy Gorman, who blinked his eyes in astonishment to see a great unicorn standing in the midst of his tiny bedroom. He threw himself flat upon the bed and quivered in terror and delight. The Master continued, "you must go to Sinravere and tell them that doom shall surely come upon them unless they repent of their evil and turn back to the ways of love and justice."

Gorman stuttered, "me? Could you not send one of the Brethren? Is this not their appointed task? Who am I to do this thing? Sinravere? They deserve utter destruction! They are the very incarnation of evil! They sell their own children for slaves and execute the innocent simply for the amusement of watching them die! There is no justice, save for the rich and powerful! They would kill me the instant I dared open my mouth!"

The Master shook His head grimly and the light about Him intensified ten fold as He said with a voice, sharp as a knife, "are you any less My servant than one of the Brethren? I am sending you. Now go!" Then He was gone.

Gorman sat up in bed and shivered, what was he to do? It should be a job for one of the Brethren, not a poor man such as he! He sighed as he got out of bed and began to dress, thinking frantically. He would go all right, but perhaps not as the Master expected. Sinravere was a five day ride to the south. He would hop on his mule and ride north as fast as the poor beast could manage. He smiled happily to himself and went to saddle the mule.

Gorman was quite pleased with his success, it was nearly two weeks since that dreadful vision and he was very nearly into the heart of the Northern Wilds; he seemed to have escaped his dreadful task. Suddenly the mule went mad, braying and bucking with all his strength. Gorman lay in a bruised heap on the ground, cursing about unruly beasts, when a shadow darkened the glade and a great hand engulfed him. He fainted with terror and awoke to find himself chained to a wall in the dark, dank depths of a cave. He heard a movement nearby and two coal red eyes flamed in the darkness, "awake then wretch?" Gorman fainted again, much to the irritation of the black dragon into whose clutches he had fallen.

The creature's eyes watered, his nose itched, and he barely managed to turn his head aside as he sneezed, narrowly avoiding Gorman's drooping form with the great gout of fire that burst forth with his sneeze. He would not allow the creature such an easy death, but then he really did not have this strange problem before he had come into possession of the little imp. He hoped the vermin was not a carrier of some vile disease. The dragon waited patiently and occasionally splashed water on the fainted wretch. Finally, Gorman roused again and at last the dragon could taunt and terrify the brute with his own impending death. The dragon took much delight over the next two days sharpening knives and various implements of torture within sight and sound of the pathetic creature and describing in detail how each would be used upon his person during his own imminent demise.

Gorman was in a state of terror and panic the entire time, and finally in despair he cried out to the Master, "rescue me from this doom! I, like a fool, disobeyed and ran from you. Leave me not to this living death!"

The dragon sneezed again, this time quite violently, and he growled, "I have been sneezing like this, each time worse than the last, since the moment I took you into my keeping. Enough is enough! I cannot go on like this!" Knowing his doom was finally upon him, Gorman prepared to die. But instead the dragon unchained him, snatched him again into his great fist, and took wing. He left the pathetic little wretch upon a dark road with the lights of a distant city brightening the horizon. He laughed darkly, "the denizens of Sinravere will be more than happy to kill you as I would like, but I cannot do it for I seem to be allergic to you and dare not spread your vile entrails about my lair and irrevocably contaminate my cave!"

He took wing and from that moment on sneezed no more. Gorman sat up and shivered at his strange release and wasted no time in thanking his Maker for the timely rescue. The lights of Sinravere shone before him and he knew thither he must go. He drew himself wearily to his feet and made his way to the despotic city. He still thought they deserved whatever doom the Master felt inclined to deal out, but he dared not disobey any longer and trudged resignedly into town.

Sinravere was one of the largest cities in the world at the time and certainly the most hedonistic and despotic. There was no rule of law, only the powerful and rich were safe in such a place and they preyed upon all weaker than themselves with impunity. Nothing was forbidden and the most brutal and heinous crimes and activities abounded therein. Even the Brethren dared not go into that vile town openly, for theirs would be a slow and agonizing death were they found out. But thither did Gorman go to denounce their evil and warn them of what would come of it unless they turned back to the ways of justice. He came into town in the midst of some dark festival, for the roads were crowded with people drunken with excitement and wine and perhaps under the influence of more dangerous substances as well. All wore fantastic and revealing costumes and reveled in the streets. The music was brash and the crowds seemed eager for violence or riot at the slightest provocation. And into this maelstrom Gorman reluctantly went. Stunned silence ensued as eyes caught sight of the ragged, exhausted man who climbed atop a wine cask, with arms aloft.

When all eyes were fixed on the man, none friendly, and all were silent, Gorman began halfheartedly, "the Master has warned that doom shall fall upon this vile city and all its inhabitants unless you turn from your ways and seek again the paths of justice and righteousness."

His message delivered, Gorman jumped down from the barrel and tried to vanish into the crowd, but a strong arm grabbed him and bore him aloft as one voice after another began to cry out, "what is this you say?"

"Come man, are you drunk?"

"Can it be true?"

All over the city, fear and dread broke out among the inebriated citizens and soon the King himself was troubled by such thoughts.

The terrified Gorman was brought before the King and repeated his simple message. The aggrieved King burst out in terror, "what a strange prophet this is! But I know in my heart that his words must be true! Summon all the people together! Let us turn from our evil ere it is too late!"

So the people were gathered and the matter discussed. Gorman, much to his astonishment and disgust, was quietly forgotten. He sighed, at least that dismal task was done and he was none the worse for it. As he crept from the town, he heard the people mourning and crying out in the streets and beseeching the Master for mercy. He shook his head in amusement, knowing such as these could not be acceptable to the Master nor would their feigned repentance last. Their doom would certainly come upon them. Amused at the thought, he left town and climbed a great hill overlooking the city. There he found a comfortable spot to await the impending doom of the heathens below.

The sun rose and the wind grew hot and Gorman very uncomfortable. The sounds of mourning and grief went on unabated below and Gorman grew impatient. Where was the disaster? Certainly it must come soon. In his boredom, he caught sight of a young rabbit nibbling a tender shrub and thought how cute and vulnerable the little creature was. For over an hour he watched the bunny, enchanted, until a hawk stooped out of the sky and bore the poor thing aloft with a great shriek of triumph. Gorman was horrified at the cruelty of the bird and could not help but weep a little for the rabbit.

Then he turned his eyes back to the city in the vale below and wondered how much like the hawk would be the coming of doom upon the evil denizens of that place. He smiled maliciously in anticipation. Suddenly he was throwing himself to the ground once more upon sensing that terrible and glorious Presence that was the Master. At last it had come! The Master's voice held great disappointment as He said, "what is this? I draw you from the brink of a horrible death yet you anticipate the demise of an entire city! You pity a rabbit more than any of the blighted souls in the valley below!"

Gorman gasped out, "are you not going to destroy them?"

The Master sighed sadly, "child you are slow to understand! My mercy is not for you alone but for all who cry out for it and this they have done. I will stay My hand, for they have reneged their evil and shall now dwell and act justly in all things. You should rejoice at their salvation as much as at your own."

Gorman shook his head in consternation, "but it is justice to destroy such as they! I am a good man and deserve rescue. They are nothing but evildoers."

The Master asked quietly, "how is it you are any more worthy of rescue than they? Has not My blood atoned for the sins of all? What man has the power to rescue his own soul? Who is good besides Me? Who are you to judge another? You can no more rescue yourself from your own evil than you could free yourself from the clutches of the dragon. Think well on this child or ignore it to your own destruction." Suddenly the Master was gone and Gorman was left alone on that hill, and lost a very long time in quiet thought.

### A Learned Mind

Zaria stared in wonder at all the beauty about her; she loved spring and everything that attended it from the new life and returning birds to the unveiling of the forest's verdure. She knelt and examined a flower peeping out of the new grass, the first of the season. A thrush sang overhead and a butterfly lazily winged its way through the lush growth. She said a silent prayer of thanks to the earth-mother for her blessings, though her village often disputed whether or not such prayers could ever be heard. That the earth was a bounteous and benevolent, though sometimes harsh and severe, mother was not questioned, but whether or not there was any conscious thought on her part or whether she cared for human opinions was quite another matter entirely. The earth-mother provided everything mankind could ever want and then when life ceased, each entered again into the sacred rhythm of life: death always giving place to new life like flowers after the last snow.

She sighed, it would be nice if the earth-mother actually cared for her children; Zaria did not like the idea of a benevolent but dumb or distant mother, like a mistress who left food out occasionally for the dog but otherwise cared little about her pet's concerns. She wanted a goddess who was ever near, personal, and cared for each of her children. She left her study of the flower, now in a grimmer mood than ever the glorious day was meant to entertain. She passed deeper into the shade of the woods, for it suited well her brooding thoughts. As she walked, she thought that she should be content to be provided with her daily needs and why should she desire anything else?

She watched a black thrush flit suddenly into a nearby tree and heard the harried peeping of many small voices. Zaria laughed at this revelation. The animals were content to raise their young, live day to day, and then die at their appointed time, but mortal man aspired to have purpose and meaning and love. The thrush cared not about its young ones once they were safely out of the nest but a mother loved her children all the days of her life! She wanted the earth-mother, if mother she was, to be like her own mother. How could she ever be indebted to and love something as careless of her grown offspring as the thrush? But if she were such a caring mother, why was she distant and indifferent to her children? Perhaps the earth-mother was enough for the thoughtless beasts but what of the more demanding children of men? How could men be wiser than she who succored them in thought and temper? Surely there must be an answer.

A sudden flash of white in the underbrush caught her attention and she followed quickly after the fleeing creature. She came suddenly into a small glade where the sun was bright upon the flower-strewn grass and there grazed a unicorn, as if the whole forest were his and he cared not that one wandering daughter of men impinged upon his luncheon. She went to her knees in awe and astonishment, for never before had she glimpsed something so beautiful or mysterious. She looked into the boundless depths of those eyes and knew here was a creature far wiser and nobler than the best of her race. She was not surprised when the creature spoke, for she certainly had strayed into a dream and nothing in this ethereal otherworld could be counted as strange. The great beast said, "so you come to realize that one should not be content to worship the house but should perhaps thank the builder?"

She nodded dully, as if in a trance but not quite understanding his meaning. He continued patiently, "the reason you are not content with your earth-mother is because the earth is not your mother but your home. It is I that am Author of all life and none are content without Me. The earth is a feckless thing that nourishes your physical being and perhaps inspires the soul with a brilliant sunset or a moonlit wood, but only because it too is My handiwork, though marred by human folly. It is Me you seek and none else. Will you have Me?"

She smiled then, not knowing who or what this creature was, but knowing deep within her being that he spoke truly and was far more real than her imagined earth-mother ever could be. She said in a small, trembling voice, "you are perhaps the Lord of the Woods or the God of growing things?"

He reared then and pawed the air in amusement, and said as his feet again touched the earth, "this glade is but the smallest part of My handiwork. I am the Master of All, meaning absolutely everything that is, was, or ever shall be. I can fit the Universe in My pocket child." For a moment she thought to glibly mention that such was impossible, for he certainly had no pockets, but the wiser part of her mind kept her from speaking with such irreverence in his presence, though he seemed to know the vagrant thought was in her mind for he gave her a patient look.

She reddened, He seemed more amused than insulted and continued, "humanity's greatest failing is an inability to look beyond the present, beyond the physical, to all that which they cannot see, touch, or imagine. That is why they do not trust fully in Me and why they are bold enough to think that they can do things better on their own."

Her eyes widened, "there is more than this lovely wood and the rolling meadows and the rumors we hear of towns and even cities in lands far away?"

He laughed and all the wood shared His merriment, "I am the Master of all the starry host, of worlds beyond your comprehension or imagination; I know each wandering thought and idle activity of every creature in every sphere of creation. Come and I will show you but a glimpse of those things which mortal mind oft fails to comprehend."

She stood and cautiously placed a shaking hand on his great shoulder, suddenly the world shifted around them though they stood still as statues. They found themselves upon a great rocky height overlooking a green expanse of forest more verdant than anything Zaria had ever dreamed. The air was alive with scents exotic and sweet while a chorus of voices, avian and otherwise, filled the air with a chaotic and wild hymn. A river flung itself heedlessly over the cliff beside them in a cataract of impossible blue. The world spun again and this time they stood in an ancient wood, silent as a tomb and almost as dark for the density of the foliage far over their heads supported by the boles of trees bigger around than any pillar of human make. Again and again the world lurched and each time a scene more beautiful and amazing than the last met them before the next suddenly revolved into being.

They found themselves upon strange and stony shores, in the very depths of the ocean where all manner of alien creatures lurked, they walked amidst the sunset clouds upheld by nothing but the mist, they saw the moon rise on a dead and rocky sphere far from Zaria's native sun, they saw places and things beyond comprehension or name, and finally they came to a place more wonderful than words can describe. Tears of joy filled the girl's eyes and a feeling of finally coming home, but utter despair wracked her being as they suddenly fled from that glorious place to find themselves again in the sunny little glade. She could not help it, for she felt her heart would burst asunder if she did not find some comfort, thus she threw her arms around the great arching neck of this strange and terrible being who knew too much and had brought all into being. She wept into His silky coat and instead of pushing her away in derision, He leaned closer and allowed His peace to wash over her stricken heart. Her tears subsided and she said in a quavering voice, "so many wonderful and strange things! But alas I shall never be happy again until I look upon that land of which I had only a glimpse. Why does my heart ache so when I have not known that place yet know that I should?"

He said gently, "child you have glimpsed that which once did belong to your race but the stubborn pride of your fathers wrested it from your grip. Your heart has not forgotten, though it is buried deep under careless thoughts and temporary cares and pleasures. It lurks within each human heart, this yearning to be whole, that this mode of existence is not truly that for which you were made. One day I shall restore all to its proper form and function but for now your race wanders lost in this broken mortal sphere. Your heart knew itself to be home and yearned above all else to dwell there forever, but it is not yet your time to leave your current abode but one day you shall come to Me and never again be sundered."

"But how may I attain that lovely land?" asked she with the guilelessness of a child.

He laughed then for joy and said, "I am the door to that pleasant land, but it is not the country itself you seek but He who is King of it and all else, for none are complete without Me. Your soul weeps within you that you have lost again that for which you were made, but fear not, for I am what you seek and none else. That country is not yet yours to attain but I am ever to be found by those that seek Me."

"What must I do?" asked the girl in eagerness and fear.

He said, "believe that I am indeed what I claim and that there is none else besides Me who is lord of all creation and beyond. But you must not only believe but also obey, for even My enemies believe in Me. I shall ask much of you child and it is no easy path, but I shall surely give you more than you can even imagine in return. You traverse a broken sphere full of many dangers, enemies, and sorrows and from these you will not be spared, but I shall give you strength to go on if you will but trust Me and be patient. Things may not be accomplished as you would have them nor in the time you would hope, but all is accomplished according to My will and in its own proper time. It is no small thing I ask. I want your entire being dedicated entirely to My service; this is not to say that you will not make mistakes or occasionally lose heart, but as long as you continue to strive in My name then you have nothing whatsoever to fear and in the end all shall be more than worth the effort."

Her eyes were wide with fear and amazement but she said, "I still do not understand but I am yours if you will have me?" He smiled and the world for a moment seemed to grow all the more beautiful.

She ran home more excited than she had ever been in her entire life and could not wait to tell her parents all that had come to pass. They sat over supper and eyed her thoughtfully, not quite believing her fantastic story. Her mother said when all was accomplished, "Zaria perhaps you should wear your hat on these very sunny days? I do not think the heat does you any good."

Her father said gently, "your mother is right sweetheart, for such dreams often follow a day out in the heat."

She broke into tears, "but it is true, all of it!"

Her father took her in his arms and carried her off to bed, all the while whispering condolences in her ear. She cried herself to sleep and in the morning dutifully went about her chores but her heart was not in it. Had it all been a dream? It had been more wondrous and real than anything in waking life; it could not have been imagined. Could it? Her chores finished, she wandered in the woods near the house, looking for the hope she had felt only the day before. She sat upon a stump and wept bitterly, feeling as if her heart might break. "Is your faith that small, child?" squawked a magpie sitting on a branch just above her head. She looked up in surprise and the bird seemed to laugh, "less than a day has passed and already you are on the verge of forsaking Me simply because others will not believe you? You must know deep within your heart that I am real, more real than even the world about you, and let nothing shake that belief. But it is not easy trying to convince friends and family, especially while yet a child. A prophet is not without honor, save perhaps in his hometown. I will take you somewhere that you might learn more of Me, that your faith not die for lack of water."

She looked at him and smiled, "I thought you were a unicorn?"

He laughed, "that is but one guise in which I might appear to mortal men. If I have a true form, what sense would it make to one of your race? If you could even look upon such and live!"

She asked, "how can you spare the time to speak to a weeping girl when there must certainly be other matters throughout all creation that are greater than I?"

He smiled, "and who says those other matters are neglected? I am here, yet I am everywhere. Time and space mean nothing to Me. I am at all places at all times, there is nothing too small to escape my notice, especially one of my distraught children. Now will you linger on here in doubt and fear and eventually forsake Me for lack of encouragement from your friends and family, or will you come away with Me to a place where hope abides?"

She asked, "but what of my family? I would have them know about You as well! I would not keep such joy to myself alone."

He laughed, "I have other servants and will send one to speak to this ignorant people. But it is not yet your task to teach others for you yet know nothing yourself. Come."

She nodded and suddenly the bird hopped from the branch onto her shoulder, and again the world spun around her. They stood on a little rise overlooking a fertile valley that was a patchwork of fields and pasture. Beyond it lay a small city (quite grand to Zaria's bucolic eyes) with a modest castle in its midst. The magpie sat on her shoulder and said, "here you shall learn that which you must and then you may travel the world and do much in My name. Farewell child, but I am ever with you!" He leapt into the air and suddenly vanished from sight.

She looked about her at the strange country and thought she had best make for the city if she were to arrive ere dark. It was a lovely country and the folk therein were quite friendly, even to a strange girl upon the road. The guards upon the gates greeted her warmly and did not hinder her passing into the city proper, where she gawked like a child at the beasts in a traveling menagerie. Quite shyly she tried to make her case known at the castle gates but it took three attempts before she managed to speak loudly enough and clearly enough that she might be understood.

Once they took her meaning she was quickly admitted and just as swiftly introduced to life in Astoria. Her case was quickly brought to the attention of the Lady of Astoria, who listened to her tale with fascination; few were those in the mortal world who could claim to have seen the Master in physical form! The girl knew little of geography or the world beyond her village but with a little help from some knowledgeable in that area, they were quickly able to locate her wayward village and the Lady promised to send one of her servants immediately to the little hamlet to speak to them of the Master and His ways.

Karil rode forth immediately for the small village of Golic, lost somewhere in the Northern Wilds, from whence the strange girl had suddenly appeared. She wondered what this peculiar little hamlet would think of her tales and the sudden disappearance of one of their young ones. It would be interesting to confront a true community of earth worshippers. Few were the folk in these latter days who had not at least heard of the Master of All. Many folk certainly denied, refused, or ignored Him for their own reasons, but very few were currently involved in nature worship at this point in the world's history. The journey was made swiftly, but not so quickly that the girl's parents had not worried themselves near to death at the sudden disappearance of their only child. Evening was falling as Karil entered the village and the townsfolk eyed her curiously, for there had been few strangers here in the past fifty years and fewer of their own folk had ever left the village. It was as isolated and remote a spot as one could still find south of the Frigid Wastes far to the north. She rode up to the inn, dismounted, and asked her mount to await her return. She entered the inn and was soon followed by a dozen curious village folk.

The innkeeper put down the mug he had been wiping and said in wonder, "amazing! We rarely have visitors from the Outlands! Welcome my lady, welcome indeed! Though I am afraid you find us all a bit off at the moment for a great tragedy has befallen our poor village: one of the local girls has quite suddenly gone missing and has the whole place in an uproar."

Karil smiled and said, "fear not, your missing child is quite safe even though she has vanished as you say. For she is the reason I am come." The hitherto silent villagers suddenly broke into a chorus of disbelief and astonishment, asking questions one atop the other. Karil said, "why not gather the rest of your townsfolk, especially the girl's parents, that I need only go over this once?" The villagers nodded their approval and vanished as one, leaving the stunned innkeeper alone with his guest.

No sooner had the herd fled than the door opened again and another outlander entered the inn. The innkeeper was beside himself with disbelief, never in all the history of Golic had there been two strangers in the village at the exact same time! The new stranger was a young man with a long nose and eyes to shame any hawk, dressed well but appropriately for travel. He took in the scene with one quick glance, smiled condescendingly at the woman with a sword, and turned his attention to the innkeeper. "Is it true?" asked the stranger in a reedy voice, of the innkeeper.

The man scratched his head and asked, "is what true?"

The stranger sighed expansively and said, "I have traveled halfway across the world to witness for myself the mythic reality of this isolated village and you pretend to not know why I am come?" Karil could hardly keep a smile from her face as the innkeeper scratched his head all the more confusedly.

The man sighed in even more exasperation and said, "I am a scholar of the first order and my area of greatest interest is primitive religions; I have come all this way to observe perhaps the last bastion of neopaganism in the known world. And you tell me you cannot fathom why I am come?" At this Karil did laugh and the innkeeper just stared blankly at the seeming lunatic before him. The man was not at all impressed by either the woman's amusement or the dumbfounded innkeeper; he chose to address the woman, saying, "I doubt there are very many armed women riding about the world, especially in so far flung a place as this, who are not bound to the Brethren. As your monotheistic tendencies certainly mean your religion is not in the sphere of the ancient, I have no pressing interest in you, thus I would kindly ask that you withdraw, so as not to pollute this virgin spring of untainted pagans. I would also remind you that a scholar of my renown is not to be laughed at."

Karil smiled and said, "I am sorry to disappoint you, but I have errands in the vicinity and cannot leave until they are accomplished. I do not laugh at you sir, but at your assumptions and explanations of the religious undertones in the local area. How is it that these 'neopagans' as you call them have roots far back in the mists of time but the Brethren's ideology has a much more modern date of origination?"

The man smiled condescendingly and said, "you are a monotheistic bunch which means that your religion must have originated later in time than the more natural religions of earth worship and polytheism, which certainly precede the former in any sensible scheme of religious evolution."

At this Karil did laugh, "our deepest held beliefs hold that the object of our worship, our very own monotheistic deity: the Master of All, was before all things and brought all things into being and thus instituted religion as pertaining to Himself from the very Beginning."

"Of course you would say that my dear," said he placatingly, "all the real hard core religionists of any code or creed must say the same thing. But all objective observers of the religions, modern and ancient, agree that the polytheists and earth worshippers were the original believers and only later did monotheism come into vogue. Of course now no sensible person can believe in any sort of religion in a very serious fashion, which is of course the next step in religious and human societal evolution. Believe what you must my dear if it brings you comfort, but alas that you lack the sense to survive without such a crutch."

The puzzled innkeeper just scratched his head and muttered, "outlanders," under his breath. Koril smiled sweetly and said, "it shall certainly be an interesting night I think."

The man was taken aback, "how can you pollute this last outpost of untainted humanity with your myths and corrupt the very fabric of its culture with your foolish tales? They should be left in peace to discover their own destiny and I am here to see how they shall evolve without outside interference. Do you not think it a bit presumptuous to consider their mythology less important or correct than your own? Does not everyone have a right to think and live as they choose?"

Koril laughed and said, "it also seems that you are not unbiased towards my own beliefs. Why are theirs given a chance to flourish while mine must be silenced? Certainly I believe all men must choose what they will believe, but I also believe men have the ability to listen to all the options and then come to an informed decision. My own beliefs hold that I do these folk a much greater disservice by remaining silent and thereby perhaps dooming their souls than by telling them those things most dear to myself and perhaps corrupting their culture as you would call it."

The man sighed, "primitive men must be allowed to live and evolve without the interference of outsiders, save perhaps those brave and bold souls who study such a progression."

Koril laughed, "these men are no more 'primitive' than yourself! They lack none of the intelligence and capabilities necessary to be able to listen to another's words and decide for themselves what is the right and true thing."

The man groused, "that may well be but I do not understand why you Brethren cannot respect the boundaries of others; some find your words quite offensive."

She asked quietly, "why then do my words disturb you when all other beliefs and ideologies in the world are safe and acceptable? Is it that perhaps my words might be true?"

The man scowled, "enough! It is because your words are judgmental. It is one thing to spout such drivel but it is quite another to say that another's beliefs are not just as worthy. How is it that your precious Master is the only Truth?"

She smiled, "do not your own words condemn my beliefs sir? How can there be more than one Truth? Especially, if all your so-called truths conflict with one another? It is not logical." He flushed with anger and fled to the back of the room to begin his observations of these 'primitives' as he thought them, for by now the village folk had all gathered in the common room and were quite eager to hear the words of the female stranger.

The man was quite aghast when she had the temerity to stand up in front of everyone and make known her insane claims, the most outrageous of which was that their missing girl had been miraculously transported to Astoria! She finished proselytizing all and sundry and then the man stood forth for his turn facing the gathered audience, but his part would be to carefully question each member of the community on their current and historic system of belief before the corrupting influence of the Brethren could render his efforts useless. Who knew? Maybe he was the last man on earth to encounter and record such a religion before it became tainted by outside influences? He addressed the yet flummoxed innkeeper and said, "my good man, what is it that your people believe about the origins of the universe, man's purpose on this planet, and our future destiny?"

The innkeeper scratched his head again and said, "I am not rightly sure as of this moment. I guess I never really thought much about it. The young lady seems quite adamant in her beliefs, maybe you should ask her?"

The scholar scowled, "I want to know about the prevailing beliefs in this village in the last hundred years, not the thoughts of this nearsighted deist whose corrupting influence has tainted most of the other religions of the world!"

The mayor stood up and said, "I think we believe in some sort of earth mother or goddess or maybe she's a he, depending on the person and the day?"

The scholar's jaw dropped in astonishment, "you think you believe?"

An old woman in the back shouted out in a cackling laugh, "that is right son, none of us are quite sure of exactly what we believe. We mostly believe whatever makes us happy and satisfies that sort of yearning. You see, back a hundred years we actually did believe in this Master, or at least so the stories say. But our intrepid ancestors decided that that sort of thing was limiting our ability to enjoy life and that perhaps we did not need the Master after all. So of course they went looking for a new god and stumbled upon her ladyship the earth. It is all sort of muddled but they thought themselves emancipated from ancient mythology and mysticism and now they could live as they pleased without the rigid constraints of their old ways. All knowledge of said Master passed out of our ken with the last of our elders. We were left with nothing but the earth mother and she has ever been a vague and distant lady."

The scholar was nearly beside himself with indignation, "you cannot mean that! Your fine religion must certainly have ancient and venerable roots!"

The old woman laughed, "lying to yourself will not change anything son. For my part I think the young lady has the right of it; you would be wise to listen to her." The villagers had no more patience for the stuffy man but had many eager questions for the young woman. He fumed in silence, forgotten in a far corner of the inn, while she spent much of the evening answering a myriad of questions for the truth-starved village folk.

She stayed on for nearly a month, expounding upon what she had begun; the disappointed scholar rode away silently the next morning intent on discovering the truth of the vanished girl for himself. Perhaps he could discredit the woman's perceived miracle and return these people to their original and more interesting beliefs. He rode on until he at last came to legendary Astoria, a city he had dismissed long ago as backwards and full of simpletons with nothing but their legends to cling to for comfort for they could not deal with the harsh realities of life. He approached the guards upon the castle gates imperiously but not without some fear, for fools though they be, they certainly looked like they knew the use of the swords on their hips.

He made his inquiries after the girl and a servant was dispatched to bring the matter to the attention of their vaunted leader. He did not wait long, for the Lady was greatly intrigued by such a guest; she also had the girl in question summoned to stand witness. He was soon bowing himself into her presence. He noticed a young girl already seated, as the Lady motioned for him to seat himself in an adjacent chair and help himself to the simple refreshments placed before them. He however stood stiffly behind the proffered seat with his hands moving sporadically upon its back. The girl giggled in wonder to both be sitting as a guest of the Lady and at the strange behavior of the man.

"My Lady," he began, "I have come to see the lies propagated by one of your servants be revealed for what they are. As I speak, she is at this moment corrupting a once free and noble people with the ideals of lesser men."

The Lady laughed, "a true believer, I see."

He gaped, "a believer you say? Of what am I such an adherent?"

She smiled, "why you have unquestioning confidence in your own thoughts and opinions. So much so that you feel yourself qualified to judge the hearts and minds of others. You applaud the fact that some should remain in ignorance of our seeming myths and rejoice that you feel yourself above our so-called superstitions. You feel threatened by what we expound, otherwise you would not despise and fear it so, but you would rather consider it as quaint and useless as the beliefs of 'lesser men,' as you call them."

The man gawked in disbelief and hoped she was not right, but some small part of his mind quailed in despair that she had hit the nail squarely upon the head, yet that much stronger voice, his ego, soon overcame that miniscule wailing and said, "dream on if you wish Lady, for such as you cannot see yourself objectively as I can. Now what of the tale that this girl was spirited away from her own home by this Master of yours?"

The Lady smiled demurely, "oh He is not my Master, but I am most certainly His. One cannot own such as He, at least not in the sense you suggest. The girl was quite suddenly thrust upon our doorstep in a most miraculous fashion and I dare you to find anyone who can contradict the tale."

He sighed like a man who knew himself speaking to a witless inferior, "Lady let us be blunt. I am not a man inclined to myth. I do not believe in the miraculous or any sort of superstitious hocus pocus. What really happened?"

The Lady smiled and said, "it is as I have said. How can you not believe in miracles when each day we must see several of them? Each breath, each beat of your heart, each sunrise and new baby, and butterfly and star! The whole world is a miracle and each thing in it my friend. The fact that each is considered common does not lessen the wonder but only dulls our senses to the novelty of life. I cannot convince you sir, and I fear you will never allow anyone else to either. It is when we lose that sense of wonder that the world grows dull and pointless and loses all joy and sense of purpose and hope. We must certainly mature in behavior, thought, and wisdom but I pray that our childish sense of joy in the simplest things never ceases to be, else our hearts grow old and cold with it."

He sighed and addressed the girl, "child, how did you came to this place?"

She smiled, "I walked."

He smiled triumphantly and said, "you see Lady, even the child has more sense and truth than you."

The girl continued, "of course it was the Master Who brought me to see the city from that hill and then I had to walk fast because it was getting dark." He bowed stiffly to the Lady and walked quickly from her presence, wondering if the whole world had gone mad.

The years passed swiftly and the girl one day joined the Brethren and was apprenticed to Koril until at last she was released to attend to adventures of her own. Her wanderings brought her one day back to her own village. The defiant scholar had returned after his failed trip to Astoria to convince the hardheaded villagers that it was all a great lie and that they should believe nothing the Brethren said. They of course were quite intrigued with Koril's words and blatantly ignored the irked scholar. The girl returned to find her family enthralled with their renewed sense of hope and they eagerly welcomed home their long sundered daughter. She spoke with them at length, before again moving on to the next village upon her circuit only to find herself set upon by ten large and well armed men. She of course was forced to surrender, gave up her weapons, and was hooded that she might not see their destination. They traveled for many days, until finally they came to a great but crumbling house on the brink of civilized lands.

She was unhooded and allowed to see their destination at last. "What is this place and why have you brought me here?" demanded she of her captors. The leader of the group shrugged silently and motioned for the girl to follow him into the depths of the house. In a great library, lit only by the fire upon the massive hearth, she found herself facing a middle-aged man in a distinguished looking chair. The bandits bowed themselves out, leaving the pair alone.

"Now," said the man, "you shall tell me the truth. For years this little phenomenon has plagued my mind and at last you will set it to rest. I deny the miraculous and declare you and all your ilk to be liars and frauds. What really happened? How did you come to Astoria? Why would you lie for others?"

She smiled sadly, "all these years and you have not yet come to realize that perhaps it is all true? I told no lies nor have any of my comrades. I cannot lie nor convince you to believe so I fear we are at an impasse."

The man was red, but whether from suppressed tears or rage she could not tell. He screamed, "what if I threaten you with death if you do not tell me the truth?"

She said quietly, "even then I would insist that what I have said is just that and it is your stubborn heart that refuses to believe it."

He took a deep breath and seemed to give up all efforts at either despair or rage, slumping in his chair and staring dejectedly at the fire. He said, "I was once the finest and most promising scholar of my acquaintance until I met you and your foolish friends. And here was a puzzle I could not solve and even now all these years later I will not let myself see the answers to the riddle as truth though they hover before my very eyes. Either you are all deluded or I am. Either I will go mad or you must be. I hope you are happy; you have ruined me. You have shattered my faith in myself and all mankind and now what is there left to me?"

Her face softened and she was on the verge of speaking, when he held up a hand and said, "I do not need your pontification. I know well that which you would say but I want none of your comfort. Be gone from my house and torment me no longer." He rang a little bell and the guard returned and swiftly escorted the lady from the house. She rode away wondering what had just come to pass.

He sat there alone in the library and stared blankly at the books. All the amassed glories of human knowledge and none of it brought the joy or peace he thought it should. None of it satisfied the deepest longings of his soul. He had looked into himself and found it terribly dark and drear. He had looked into every corner of human society and wisdom and found nothing of worth. Here was a whole sect of misguided cretins who had more joy and fervent faith in one finger than he had in his entire being. He knew he could have it too, if only he would accept the impossible. But would he?

A Matter of Conscience

Goblins were crafty enemies, the most devious of the unthinking creatures, and on this occasion they proved themselves more than a match for their unfortunate prey. They had taken to the trees that closely overhung the minute trail that was the only road through this part of the Untamed Wilds. Few travelers ever expected to find trouble from above and in this case, the assumption proved disastrous. The creatures had lain in wait for an unwary passerby and then fell upon him with all the viciousness of their kind. They could smell the unicorn, no matter his visage, for he was not masking his scent hoping it would drive off the less daring predators, but a pack of goblins was anything but timid.

They fell upon the hapless creature without pity or mercy, neither being a characteristic of their kind, and it was not long before he fell with a terrible scream and faded from existence. His rider was not so fortunate and once the main threat was abolished, they could take their time with their remaining prey. However the fall had rendered him unconscious and this lessened their triumph significantly; they were even worse than cats in their delight at killing their prey slowly and with much torment. Some hooting, howling, and grunting soon decided the matter and one of the younger of the horrid brood was left to mind their victim while the rest went to cause more trouble elsewhere; the young brute was to summon them back at the first sign the man was waking.

Trilby lay lost to the world, he had suffered several bite wounds and deep scratches from his now absent hosts, but none were imminently vital though he was in no shape to attempt an escape from the awful pack. Help must come from without or all hope was lost. And it seemed hope might not have fully forsaken the stricken man, for it was not long after the pack's retreat that another rider came down the same trail. The young monster hooted in alarm and raced off into the brush to rouse his companions, for he dared not face such a menace alone. The rider drew rein, stared off after the retreating beast, knowing it would soon bring more of its kind, and quickly surveyed the situation. It was obvious the man was injured but how badly was anyone's guess, at any rate the whole deadly pack of perpetrators would soon be along so there was little time to waste. He dismounted, searched the abandoned saddlebags, idly wondering where the man's horse was, and took anything of interest or value amongst the luggage. He took up the injured man's sword, lying forgotten some distance away, thinking the poor fool would soon have no use for it, and then he turned his scavenging attention on the man himself.

He searched the pockets and belt pouch of the stricken man and then hurried back into his saddle as he heard the raging fury of the horde descending quickly upon him. The horse needed no urging and gladly ran for all he was worth away from the wretched beasts. Trilby had started to stir when he sensed the stranger's presence nearby and watched in stunned horror as the stranger rode away without a thought for the man he left to die behind him. There was no more time for thought; the monsters were upon him. A great brute of a male stood upon Trilby's chest in all his ugly glory, howling and carrying on for all he was worth. He leant down and stared deep into Trilby's eyes with his own piggy specimens. Trilby lapsed again into darkness before the monster struck.

A mist of deepest purple and darkest blue surrounded him, yet the clearing in which he found himself was neither vague nor dark nor menacing; little lights, like errant fireflies, wandered about in the nebula about him, echoing the sense of utter peace found in this place. If it was a dream, it was more real than even waking life had been. He wondered from whence that stray thought had come and smiled slightly, knowing it to be true. He was no longer alive, at least as mortals considered the matter, but neither was this what he had expected once life had ceased. He was not in the mortal world but neither was he in the Master's bright country; where was he?

"You are Somewhere and Nowhere and Everywhere," came the answer from the Voice that called the stars into being. Trilby suddenly found himself kneeling before what to many men was myth or foggy legend: the Master of All. He felt fear certainly, not mortal terror but something of the smallness one feels when facing mountainous heights for the first time. Perhaps sheer awe was a better word. He felt very small and insignificant yet quite astonished that such as He would address such as himself. The Master seemed to know his thoughts and chuckled quietly at His servant's conundrum.

The Great Unicorn said, "certainly I am much greater than your mind can comprehend and brought Everything into being, but how can that mean that you are too small for My notice and attention? If I am great enough to birth all things, cannot I also be great enough to know all things? The movements of the smallest insect and most insignificant bird are of interest to Me, how then can the fate of My dear, thinking creatures be any less significant? You are mine willingly and therefore have nothing to fear in My presence. You wonder what this place is? It is neither Here nor There; it is a place that simply Is because I wish it to be. I snatched you out of time before those fell creatures could have their way with you because I have a task to set you, thus you have not yet entered My country."

Trilby looked upon the Great Unicorn curiously, wondering what strange task yet lay before him. Those great eyes so full of sorrow and greater joy looked upon him and said, "the man that failed to lend you aid in your moment of greatest need will soon find himself hounded relentlessly by his conscience. You are to be there when he finally begins to ask questions rather than trying to hide from his past. Long have I called to him, but just as long has he ignored or run from Me. Soon there will come a day when he can no longer choose to turn from the darkness and it shall consume him utterly. You will offer him at least one more chance."

Trilby's eyes were wide with surprise, "I am to live again and follow after him?"

The Master shook his great head in amusement and said, "nay child, but in dreams and visions his guilty conscience will see you until at last he comes to ask how he might be free of such pains."

Trilby smiled wryly, "I thought ghosts lived only in legend?"

The Master said grimly, "I allow no spirit to wander at will. Some I send abroad on errands of My own, but no restless ghoul is allowed to roam at large. You are no ghost, but quite yourself and solely a messenger doing My bidding. Once you have accomplished your task you shall return to your proper place." Trilby bowed his head in acknowledgement and suddenly all was black about him.

Zark rode swiftly away from the grim pack, feeling only terror for his own skin, little thinking of the man he had left to die horribly behind him. Finally, the horde far behind and the horse near exhaustion, Zark slowed to a saner pace. Evening was swiftly coming on and Zark happily turned in at the miniscule inn that appeared before him in the midst of a tiny village. There was little traffic in this part of the Wilds but there were enough locals to keep the inn in business, if only through the sale of alcohol. He turned the exhausted animal over to the stable lad and eagerly sought the common room for some much needed rest and refreshment. Zark had no interest in supper, but had a bottomless thirst for the local brew. After his third mug he finally began to relax after the day's harrowing trial. He began to think over his ill-gotten plunder, though the thought did not bring much joy to his haggard face.

The man had little of value save his sword and a few odd coins. Worse, the thought brought a terrible reminder of the fate to which he had abandoned the man. Certainly he was a stranger and might have put himself in mortal danger had he stopped to help; what right did the fool have to demand aid of Zark at such a time, especially at such a risk to himself? Zark consoled himself with this grim logic and another mug of ale. Well past midnight, and swaying with the aftereffects of drink, Zark made his way towards his room. In the feeble light of the candle, he saw a face in the mirror that drained all the color from his own, dropping the candle in his terror. He picked up the struggling flame before he set the inn afire and stared with horror again into the mirror but saw there only his own ragged and wan visage. He laughed tremulously, blew out the candle and sought his bed.

Long did he lay awake wondering if it was simply a trick of the light and his addled nerves or did he truly see a ghost? Trilby stood in the room, apparently unseen by mortal eyes, save perhaps as a brief reflection in the mirror. Trilby watched the man frantically set his candle upright before flinging himself desperately into bed, after which Trilby suddenly vanished. Over the next several weeks, only moments to Trilby's senses, the apparition appeared again and again for brief moments reflected in mirrors, standing water, and even the still surface of a mug of ale. Zark was a mess. He was desperate to rid himself of the vision, but the more he drank the more often it appeared. He tried to ignore it and his own conscience but the latter gained a greater voice with each glimpse of the apparition. He rode to other inns, tried to avoid reflective surfaces, and tried never to be alone, but ever the vision and his own mind reeled with desperation and guilt over what he had done. Finally he fell into a deep sleep, exhausted with his own feverish guilt and endless anxiety.

He was not surprised to find the ghost in his dreams. Zark said to the figure, "why must you haunt me? You have driven me near to suicide with your endless appearances and my mind is fraying at the edges! I have done nothing wrong so leave me in peace."

Trilby smiled, "had you done nothing wrong your conscience would not be bothering you and brief glimpses of me would in no way unsettle you."

"You are dead," whined Zark, "can you not leave the living in peace? What power have you over me or what can I do to rid myself of your presence?"

Trilby laughed, "I gain nothing by haunting you, as you would call it, nor have I any way to influence you for good or for ill; neither can you do anything for or about me. I however can tell you how to rid yourself of this inexorable guilt."

The man was desperate for peace but skeptical about such an offer from such a source, "and who is to say I have done anything wrong? I would have gotten myself killed had I waited around to help you!"

Trilby said, "then why does your conscience bother you so?"

Zark growled, "you tell me, oh man who knows my conscience so well!"

Trilby nodded calmly and sat down, saying, "if you had been in such fear for your life, you should have taken one look at the situation and ridden on in terror. Cowardly certainly, but perhaps justifiable in the circumstances, but you did not simply ride on, you lingered long enough to take any valuable trinkets and then fled without a second thought when it became clear your own life was in danger. If you had time to rob the moribund you certainly had time to render aid even if you failed in the attempt."

Zark sighed, "very well I am guilty as you suggest. Now what am I to do about it? How am I to rid myself of your awful presence and the nagging guilt of my own heart?"

Trilby smiled gently, "you can do nothing but the Master can certainly heal the most grievous wounds of heart. It was He that sent me thus."

Zark scoffed, "so some character out of the storybooks sent a ghost to guilt me into confessing his existence? I think not. My soul shall not be blackmailed thus. Neither do I believe in him you claim to have sent you. Be gone fell spirit and leave me in peace."

"You are wise not to trust this lying ghost," snarled a strange and vicious voice, "he wishes nothing less than the total annihilation of your soul!"

Zark backed away from a great, two-legged reptile with flaming eyes that suddenly appeared in the midst of his dream. While Trilby's presence unsettled him, this monstrosity chilled him to the bone. "What have you to do with me?" gasped Zark.

"Believe him not," said Trilby grimly, moving to stand between Zark and the monster, "he is a fell servant of the Nameless One and certainly not to be trusted."

"And who are you to treat with me fool?" snarled the beast, "Your master shall one day bow to mine and then you shall not escape your due. Leave this pitiful creature to me, the sphere of the living is no longer of consequence to you!"

Trilby said grimly, "the Master has sent me thus and so shall it be until He draws me back. I will not yield for the likes of you."

Zark said to the serpent, "and what has your master to offer if I do not like the words of this deceased prophet?"

The serpent hissed rapturously, "why power undreamed and freedom from all fear, guilt, and anxiety."

"What must I do?" asked Zark skeptically, "Must I lay my soul at your master's feet as some might demand of me?"

The creature scoffed, "you have only to reach out and take it; my master cares nothing for such groveling as some would ask."

Trilby said, "that is because his master gains your soul regardless, unless it is in the Master's keeping! You need not acknowledge him master yet he is your master nonetheless."

Zark sneered, "I am a logical man and not prone to fits of fancy, especially as encountered in a dream after such anxious days and much drink. I will bow to neither of your schemes and must therefore work through my fits of conscience in my own way."

Trilby said quietly, "you may quash your conscience or deaden it but that will not spare your soul from eternal darkness nor from much pain and sorrow while you tread mortal soil. The Master alone can spare you from both if only you will humbly submit to Him."

"You are a fool to ignore me wretch," sneered the serpent, "this pathetic ghost can do nothing to touch you in the mortal world, but my master has servants who lack no such talent. You will submit to me or you will not live long hereafter."

"Enough!" shouted Zark, "Both of you blathering apparitions be gone and leave me in peace. I need no superstition in my life and I certainly shall not succumb to such fanciful threats as these. Be gone both of you!"

"You have been warned," laughed the serpent, "submit to my associates in the near future or regret it for all eternity."

Zark asked, "and what awaits beyond death for those who submit to your dark master?"

The serpent hissed mysteriously, "they find the reward appropriate to their service." It laughed darkly and suddenly vanished.

The bitter chill left Zark's bones and he looked again to Trilby, "and what of you? Will you continue to haunt me all my days? I shall not submit to such strange logic. I must deal with this thing myself and I need not your Master's pity nor forgiveness to do so."

Trilby shook his head grimly, "ware the monster's words, for he is right in saying darker days are coming. The Master is ever there if you are only willing to seek Him. I shall bother you no longer." Suddenly Zark was alone in his own mind and his dreams turned to things dark and frightful that vanished upon waking.

Zark awoke the next morning refreshed and finally managed to ignore the raging voice of his conscience, which eventually fell silent or became an unheard thought in the darkest reaches of his mind. He had done what any rational, self-serving human being would have done. The man was certainly doomed, there was no logical reason why he should share that fate, nor why the spoil should be left to the mindless brutes. He laughed to himself and continued upon his road with a lighter heart; the dark warnings of the reptile were soon forgotten but they were not in vain.

Trilby found himself again in the swirling mist lit through with the flitting lights, tears stung his eyes as he knelt again before his Maker, thinking himself a failure. He could not raise his head to meet those fathomless eyes but he felt himself drawn to do just that by a power he could not deny. He found there love, such love as no mortal heart could fathom and sorrow far greater than his own. "Weep not child, for you have not failed Me," spoke that voice so gentle yet so firm, "we can only offer, it is for each thinking soul to accept or deny Me as he or she will. I will not force Myself upon an unwilling soul yet neither can I draw them back once they have irrevocably denied Me. Come, there is one last chance you can offer our reluctant friend, perhaps this time he shall choose wisely? You ride again into mortal danger and either way, your sojourn shall be short among the living. Neither shall you go alone." He smiled deeply and joy tingled in the air while the flitting lights quickened their dance. At the familiar whicker, Trilby turned his head to look upon his dearest friend and sundered companion: the unicorn that had preceded him in death.

He flung his arms joyfully around the great creature's neck as the unicorn greeted his friend just as enthusiastically. Content in their reunion, both looked upon the Master, Who said, "this ride shall be short, but for one soul's sake it is vital. I shall certainly ride with you."

Trilby pulled himself into the saddle and the unicorn screamed in eagerness, pawing the air. A small rent appeared in the mist like a window upon another world. Together they dashed out of the quiet peace of the Master's presence again into the mortal world of sorrow and grief. It was a dark night and the moon was low on the horizon, but there was light enough to see a lone rider with half a dozen dark horsemen in close pursuit. The unicorn came quickly upon them and momentarily sent the clumped horses into a panicked frenzy while their riders struggled to maintain control. The exhausted horse of their quarry ran all the faster at the terror just behind him, but he had not the endurance to go much farther. He collapsed in a sweaty heap in the midst of a clearing, throwing his rider, who hastened to his feet with sword drawn. The immediate threat past, the pursuing riders again gained control of their mounts and followed after the menace that had just appeared to interfere in their schemes. As they raced madly into the clearing, they drew forth their bows and felled the terrible creature with arrows; again the unicorn screamed in agony and vanished from sight. Trilby stood, shaking his head grimly, wondering how often the poor creature must die thus. He drew his own blade and stood betwixt the dark men and their prey.

"Spare his life if you can lads, as he will come in handy tonight if things proceed as they must," laughed one of the dark men as they dismounted and drew their swords to confront their prey. Trilby wondered what on earth they were talking about but planted himself firmly between the approaching men and poor Zark, who was white as death from the harried chase and the realization of who was defending him.

"You!" gasped the man, "I thought you had no power over the living?"

Trilby laughed grimly, "I live again, at least for the moment, though it is likely neither of us is long for this world. Remember well what I have said, for tonight you may forever rue your previous stubbornness."

Zark growled, "I want no part of anyone's superstition, least of all yours."

The leader of the dark men said, "we will certainly kill your friend there man, but you need not share his fate. Join us and your life will be spared, else you can join him in an unmarked grave."

Zark sneered, "what right have you to pursue me this night and interfere with my previous plans? I just want to be left in peace."

"Sorry lad," laughed the man, "orders are orders. We could care less for such a paltry thing as the rights of the individual. Now will you be joining us or will this be the end?"

Zark snarled, "I will not believe in your nameless master."

The dark man laughed, "you need not believe, simply obey."

The men kept their distance but they had no qualms about using their bows at close range. Three bowstrings sang in the night and Trilby went to his knees, grimacing in pain; arrows protruded from both of his legs and his abdomen. "Take him," ordered the leader. Two of the dark men approached the wounded man; Trilby had not the strength to defend himself and they easily captured him. "Now what of you?" laughed the evil man, "You have one choice left to save your life. Kill this fool, promise to obey our orders, and you shall not only live but gain power unimaginable. Well?"

Zark grinned sardonically, "I have no wish to die. My conscience has already haunted me with my part in this man's death, why not give it something to be truly upset about? I still do not believe in your grim master but the power you speak of is tantalizing and surely better than death. I shall submit to your wishes."

"Do not do such a thing!" gasped Trilby, who only earned himself a bloody lip for his trouble.

Zark laughed, "finally I can put my past to rest, at least as it concerns yourself. I give you back to the Master who has sent you and given me such pains in the process."

They handed the man an ugly dagger and Zark heard the dark man say, "kill him and seal yourself to our cause, gain power undreamed!"

Zark laughed hopelessly, "I hardly know what it is I do, but it is surely better than death."

The dark man laughed uproariously, "you care not that this man was willing to give his life for yours?"

Zark shrugged, "the more fool he, let us tarry no longer." He plunged the blade into the irritating man's heart and actually found the sensation quite agreeable, but even more pleasant was the amazing power he felt welling within himself, power enough perhaps to rival the very gods he once denied.

Zark found himself paired up with the speaker of the previous night as something of an apprentice in a little society they called the Brotherhood of the Serpent. He had certainly seen one of their hideous serpents, but still doubted the veracity of their devotion to the so-called Evil One, but the strange abilities he now possessed must surely stem from somewhere. More importantly his objectionable conscience now seemed cloaked in a stifling veil of darkness and nearly ceased to bother him. They rode south for some days and finally came to a little cluster of farms where Lurch said they had business. It seemed their whole reason for being was to work to further the plans of their much feared master by fomenting discord and chaos in the wide world. The local lord was a tyrant and had raised taxes to the point of stifling his once prosperous farmers. A few rebels in this part of the land were refusing to pay their share, saying their children were starving and this was causing some others to think twice about doing the same. The whole domain was in danger of rebelling against their lord. Usually such discord would benefit the plans of the Brotherhood, but as this lord was a tyrant they wished to ensure his continued success. They were to murder the leaders of the opposition and terrify the rest into cooperation.

Zark asked, "are we to kill only the men or everyone?"

Lurch laughed, "I hope you do not have a soft heart boy, because we will kill them all, even a newborn babe."

Zark felt his heart sink but philosophically reminded himself that it was better them than him. He sighed and settled in to wait until all had gone to bed when they could strike at their leisure. The darkest watch of the night had come when Lurch motioned for them to move. The first farm on their list of targets had been silent since they had arrived after nightfall. A dog barked as they made their entrance but some fell spell of Lurch's quickly silenced the annoyance. They crept in the kitchen window with swords bared and suddenly Lurch found himself under attack. A man in the uniform of the Brethren had lain in wait for this long expected attack and whirled about in a deadly dance with his foe. Zark crept in swiftly after and dealt the ambusher a mortal blow to the chest, but not before their foe had done the same to Lurch. Both fell clutching at their wounds and breathing raggedly. A shrill equine scream of grief and rage filled the night and the creature ran to the door and desperately began kicking at the strong oaken door, hoping to reach his stricken master's side. Zark stared from one to the other, not knowing what to do.

"Finish him fool and then make an end of the rebels," growled Lurch.

Zark threw down his sword, "I am not sure I wish to serve you any longer. It seems the threat against my life is ended and I will leave you fine gentlemen to die for your separate causes. Good evening." He screamed as a dagger, thrown by his former associate, pierced his own chest.

"Think you that you can escape so easily?" growled Lurch, "You shall die with the rest of us traitor, and then your soul is lost for all eternity after what you have done."

The dying Brother gasped out, "never too late to seek the Master."

Zark laughed derisively, "it seems he has done much to aid your plight. I will perhaps acknowledge his existence, is that enough?"

Lurch laughed, "even the Nameless One does that. Would you prostrate yourself before him as these pathetic fools are wont to do?" The unicorn outside gave a pathetic whinny and disappeared into the night, having felt his master die. Lurch laughed to see his foe precede him in death but did not linger long after, dissolving thereupon into a fetid puddle of goo.

Zark stared in horror from the corpse to the puddle and back, wondering what was left for him to do. He would not acknowledge the Master no matter what it cost him. The room darkened, save for the gentle glow of a unicorn that suddenly appeared before Zark. It was the Master himself come to give the wretched man one last chance. Zark snapped, "I do not care who or what you are, I do not need nor want you. Be gone and leave me in peace!" The Master said nothing but the sorrow within those great eyes deepened greatly and Zark found himself on the brink of tears, yet he would not relent. He would die as no one's slave. And so he did. The darkness deepened around him and the Master gave him one last look, this of a judge passing sentence and Zark knew there was no dispute. He quivered at the wretched life he had left behind but quailed before all eternity that lay ahead with nothing but the dark and his own uneasy thoughts for company. The Master vanished and then all was darkness ever after.

### A Reluctant Queen

"You will marry the King of Saracen whether you like it or not child," scolded the King to his second oldest daughter of fourteen, "your elder sister is far too homely to make a pleasing wife and the alliance will certainly prevent a war! You leave at dawn with a grand entourage upon your nuptial journey."

"But father!" gasped Katia, "The man is nearly sixty and has been married eight times. It is said his previous wives have succumbed to a broken heart, if not worse. I will not live to see twenty!"

The King sighed, "perhaps it is just rumor. But whatever may come, you will do as you are told and consider your sacrifice an honorable duty to your people."

Tears stung her eyes, "such alliances have not prevented him from making war with his neighbors in the past, what is there to prevent him now?"

The King frowned, "you listen too much to that prattling Advisor from Astoria. You would be better served to perfect your womanly charms rather than listen to political history lessons from that old fool. Women were not meant to think! Go to your chambers and prepare for the morrow, I will not change my mind."

She gave him one last desperate look and ran from his presence sobbing; his heart quailed a moment in pity, but he sternly rebuked himself that it was a political necessity and she must learn to sacrifice just like he had for the good of Itria. He was drawn back from his silent thoughts as the aforementioned Advisor cleared his throat and stood in the corridor, waiting the King's pleasure. "What is it now?" demanded the King.

The man said patiently, "I am sorry to bother you Majesty in this desperate moment. My business is not urgent and it can wait." He bowed deeply and retreated the way he had come. The King scowled after him for a moment but was soon lost again to his silent brooding.

The Advisor found the sobbing girl in a quiet corner of the gardens and said quietly, "I heard your dire news when I came to speak with your father. What are you going to do?"

She looked upon him with surprised eyes, "what am I going to do? What is there to do but my duty?"

He sighed, "what you said to your father is correct. You will not live long in the presence of such a terrible lord and even such an alliance will not keep him from attacking Itria. Could you prevent a war, it might perhaps be worth the price but this is nothing but suicide. You cannot remain here."

"What am I to do?" gasped the girl.

He smiled gently and said, "that you must decide for yourself. I would advise you to ride for Astoria, but as to the how that you must devise on your own, for if I knew your plans I would be forced to betray them if questioned upon the subject."

She nodded grimly, thanked her dear tutor for his advice, and vanished into the castle to begin devising her plans for escape. He stared after, wondering what would come of the poor girl. She retreated to her rooms and summoned her most faithful servant and said, "I must leave tonight and in secret else all is lost. We may never see one another again. You have served me faithfully since we were little more than girls and this is perhaps the last thing I shall ask of you." She briefly outlined her plans and both wept at the thought of forever being sundered but not long enough to interfere with their desperate plans. Katia was certain that the King would suspect that she might try to escape this night and knew she would never be allowed into the stable or especially out of the castle gates, but a servant could go almost anywhere at anytime unquestioned for they would not dare such unless ordered about by some person of importance.

The girl went to the kitchens and said her mistress did not feel like eating and then both withdrew to the princess' chambers until late in the evening. When all was silent, Katia slipped into the livery worn by the servants. The real servant went to the kitchens and took what provisions her mistress might need upon the journey. Katia packed the necessities for such a journey and met the servant in a small corridor outside the kitchens and took the parcel of food. They made their farewells and the servant returned to their chambers while Katia made her way to the stables. At this hour of the night, all were gone to bed save one junior stable boy who would wake the others if an emergency arose. He gaped to see the princess in the guise of a servant in the stable at such an hour, but quickly helped her saddle a plain looking horse and secure her baggage behind the saddle.

"You must cut your hair," said the boy bluntly.

She stared at him, "what?"

He smiled shyly and said, "if you wish to escape unnoticed you must look the part of an errand boy sent with some vital message. Your beautiful locks were never seen on such a lad."

She nodded grimly, and almost reverently, he helped her trim her hair roughly with a belt knife. He gave her a shapeless hat and she smiled grimly, "thank you for your help."

He bowed awkwardly and said, "you have ever been kind to me lady. I do not know your trouble but I will keep your secret. Farewell."

She climbed into the saddle and rode swiftly away, the guards upon the gates did not bother stopping a messenger obviously leaving in haste on some desperate business of dire importance. It was a busy night for messages apparently, for after the girl left, three other riders left one after the other. The guards scratched their heads but made no move to stop the emigrants.

Katia rode on well into the morning, hoping to put as much distance between herself and the castle before she was missed and pursued, but her horse stumbled, nearly unseated her, and refused to go further. With much frustration she slid from the saddle to inspect the horse and find the reason for his reluctance to go on. The reason was quite obvious, the creature had thrown a shoe and the offending foot was now lame. She sighed and led the animal off the road and out of sight, wondering what to do. She glanced around desperately for inspiration, near to panic at the delay; her eyes fell upon a small cottage set some distance back in the woods. She smiled and hoped the local herbalist could help her. Katia secured the animal behind the cottage and then returned to the front and knocked upon the door. A comely woman in her middle years beckoned the girl to enter, wondering why a girl with a bad haircut in the King's livery stood at her door.

"I need help," gasped the princess, "my horse has thrown a shoe and can go no further until attended to and I must leave Itria at once."

Intrigued, the woman said, "calm yourself child. Come, have some tea and we shall discuss your problem." Katia chafed at the delay but desperately needed the help so endured the woman's hospitality as patiently as she could. She was not sure if she could trust the woman, but perhaps her pitiful tale would touch the woman's heart. Katia poured out her story and the woman's face was one of infinite patience and calm, but her eyes widened in surprise and speculation as the girl spoke. "And what would you have of me child?" asked the woman once the girl had finished.

Katia said, "I need another horse or perhaps a place to hide. Whatever happens I must not be found by those seeking me."

The woman smiled and said, "then you had best change clothes and stay for a time, until we can safely smuggle you from the country." The girl smiled deeply and in her joy, drew the woman close in a grateful hug.

The woman clad the girl as a peasant boy and did what she could to disguise her female attributes. If one did not look too close, the girl was easy to overlook as just another peasant lad going about his chores. The King had sent out soldiers to find the girl when it was discovered that she was fled, but it was a large country and the girl could be anywhere within or beyond its borders by now. Two days passed and the girl began to relax, hoping that perhaps she was finally out of danger. She did odd jobs for the woman and began to wonder if perhaps she might not accept the woman's offer to stay on indefinitely and learn the art of herbs and healing. That night they sat over supper and the girl asked, "I had thought to ride to Astoria and seek refuge there, but I am very interested in the healing arts. Are they not practiced by the Brethren?"

Her host smiled and said, "there are some I am sure with some minor skill, but it is not their main area of interest or purpose. Their intent is more upon justice, peace, and the passing on and preservation of lore and history rather than in healing and other more useful skills. They do not go in for the crafts and skills necessary for civilized life, leaving such things to lesser folk. I am sure they think they are doing something good for the world, but craftsmen and artists they certainly are not."

A look of confusion played across Katia's face at this statement of irreverence for a group she had respected all her life. The woman smiled, "child, I have no use for your precious Brethren. If they ceased to be life would still go on for the majority of us, but if all the blacksmiths and healers vanished from the face of the earth civilization itself would collapse."

Katia said carefully, "I have heard rumors about certain healers, it is said that their skills spring not from nature but from a more sinister source. Is this part of your antipathy towards the Brethren?"

The woman scoffed. "we are an independent and stubborn lot, not easily placed in a box like your Brethren, who are all the same. We can believe, think, and act however we please. A certain number of us certainly lean towards what some call the dark arts to aid our healing abilities, but there are others that hold that these arcane skills are not as bad as all that for they say the power comes not from an evil source but from the benign spirits of the woods. Of course it is only some of us that go in for that sort of thing. Others are strictly dealers in herbs and natural cures, staying well away from anything of a more supernatural nature; these of course have a much less successful practice but they assure me that their lives and minds and perhaps even their souls are much lighter and freer than those who delve into the mysterious."

"And of which persuasion are you?" asked the girl with wide eyes.

The woman laughed, "I do not go in for evil dabblings, of course. Drink your tea and then I have more work for you to be about." The girl nodded dutifully, much relieved at her host's assertions, took up her cup, took a long draught, and with a gasp of surprise slumped unconscious on the table.

A sinister voice said, "what was that about evil dabblings?"

The herbalist laughed, "I am no witch but I do know a thing or two about herbs. I never said I was a saint either, nor am I one to turn down such a chance at profit. She will sleep for six to ten hours, after that you are on your own."

The dark man nodded and went to collect his prey. He had been lurking about the castle for months by the order of his much dreaded masters and had been doing his best to foment war between Itria and Saracen. When he saw the girl flee after her father's proclamation he knew his chance had come. He had ridden out in pursuit of her and followed her to this place, where he had made a profitable offer to the woman, who readily agreed. He placed the girl on the horse and then crawled up behind her in the saddle. It was a dark night so he rode slowly that his horse not stumble along the way.

He mused as to what he should do with the girl. He could return her to her father and perhaps gain a trusted place within his court. He could give her into the hands of her affianced Lord and perhaps do the same. Or he could dispatch her and blame it on one side or the other and the more easily foment war. Or she could quietly disappear and the King of Saracen might ride to war all the sooner. He sighed, the best option was certainly delivering the girl into the hands of the Saracen King and telling a tale of heroic escape and treachery on the part of Itria. He smiled, such a story would do nicely and provide him with ample reward as well as progressing his master's plans. His introspections were cut short as his horse stopped abruptly.

The dark man glanced up and found another rider blocking the path with his sword at the ready. The dark man growled under his breath, it was the Brethren's Advisor to the King. "Let her go," said Markor.

The dark man scoffed, "and how did you find me?"

Markor smiled, "I followed you after you followed the girl. Let her go and I will spare your life."

The dark man scoffed, "and what is my life worth if she is lost to me? Move aside or she dies." He held his knife to her throat to show he meant business.

Markor sighed and said, "will you take me in her stead?"

The dark man scoffed, "and what would that avail me? She is a valuable prisoner, you are just another nuisance."

Markor's response was cut short by a grunt of pain as an arrow grazed his shoulder. The two men looked around in confusion as half a dozen men armed with bows and swords surrounded them. Their leader laughed, "throw down your weapons lads and you might not get hurt. Now who are you and why are you detaining my lord's bride?"

The dark man scowled, "and who might you be? I have big plans for this girl and you dare stand in my way? You are as annoying as this pious fool! Move aside ere you regret it." The men did not cower in terror as he had hoped, instead they laughed uproariously. He had the power to manipulate them, at least individually, but it seemed the presence of one of the Master's servants and a unicorn hindered that ability significantly.

Once the men had quieted in their mirth, the leader said, "we are Knights of Saracen come to fetch home our Lord's beloved, whom you are holding captive at the moment. One of my spies saw her flee and alerted me to the danger. We were waiting in Itria to escort her to her waiting fiancé and now we shall do just that. I would put up that dagger if I cherished my life. Now who are you?"

The dark man snorted in irritation, "my annoying friend is the Brethren's Advisor to the King of Itria and was trying to stop me from taking the girl. I am a man with great designs on this girl and what she will mean for my future. I will give her into your keeping if you will tell your lord the part I played in her capture."

The soldier laughed harshly, "you will be lucky to keep your life fool. As for your friend, I am sure the King will be delighted to make an end of him. He has no use for such as he and nothing pleases him more than to watch them die horribly."

The dark man said, "my life is forfeit unless I gain something out of this failed scheme, so what does it matter if you spare my life? Perhaps I should just kill the girl and be done with it."

The captain's eyes widened and he said, "let us not be hasty now. I will put in a good word to the King and I am sure he will hear you out."

The dark man turned to Markor, "does he speak truly."

Markor nodded, "he tells the truth."

The dark man smiled, "see that you do not disappoint me or you will regret it sorely. But take my advice and kill the fool and his mount before they cause further problems."

The captain laughed as one of his men relieved the dark man of the sleeping girl, "there is no point in killing a perfectly good horse. You cannot tell me you believe in those stories the Brethren pass around that they actually ride unicorns! He will die soon enough."

Markor and the girl were quickly bound and kept in the center of the group as hostages while the dark man was allowed to move about as he pleased. He chafed at his helplessness to use his dark powers to affect the men. Had they done as he had asked and killed the annoying pair, they would have been powerless before him. As it was, he was now fully dependent upon them for his future longevity. His masters were not keen on failure and made startling examples of such when they could. He did not wish to become such a byword if he could help it. The girl woke sometime the following morning when the small company had made camp for the day.

They traveled only at night until they were safely beyond the borders of Itria. She gasped to find herself in such a predicament but was even more startled to find Markor in the same situation. He smiled ruefully but had no plans as to how to get out of this strange situation. The unicorn was ready to fight his way out or more likely die trying but his master held him firm while there was yet some hope of escape, but the closer they got to Saracen the dimmer that hope became.

The dark man whispered quietly to Markor one day as the others dozed, "I have a plan to free ourselves and the girl, after that we can discuss this matter further."

Markor nearly laughed, "I cannot cooperate with you even did I wish it."

The dark man growled, "what did your precious Oath ever gain you? Can you not see that you are going to die! Forsake your vows and save your life fool." Markor shook his head grimly and no more was said upon the matter.

They soon left Itria far behind and were well into Saracen and soon within the royal palace. The King soon had the whole party standing before him in the great hall. He laughed grimly as his captain told the tale. He looked the girl over as one might a spirited horse, liking what he saw. The King said to the girl, "your father is a fool to think that by sacrificing you to my appetites it would spare his Kingdom. Even now I am massing for war upon your pitiful country. You however will serve as an amusement while you last. Take her to her chambers."

"And who are these fools, captain?" asked the King, examining the dark man and Markor.

The captain said, "one is the Brethren's advisor to the girl's father and the other had a hand in capturing your renegade bride."

He looked over the two carefully and said to the dark man, "you seem a cunning fellow, what would you have for aiding my men in the capture of the rebellious girl?"

The man smiled in his most sycophantic manner and said, "I wish nothing more than to serve as your aid and advisor my lord."

The King laughed darkly, "would you now? I have and need no advisors. I am wise enough to know my own mind. You are a fool to think that flattery will gain you anything with me; I am no such fool. In fact, I can see that you are of a dangerous and devious mind, perhaps equal to my own. I will suffer no such rival or danger within my own realm. Thus you will share in the fate of your scrupulous friend here and amuse the court this afternoon, and tomorrow I shall be married."

The dark man's face turned several shades of red and was nearly purple with rage as he said, "you dare defy me!" The King laughed and the guards escorted them away.

"Now what?" asked the stunned dark man of the captain as they were escorted from the King's presence.

The captain smiled in anticipation, "the King has quite a menagerie of rare and terrible beasts, now and then he likes to amuse the court by pitting his pets against his enemies. He has just acquired a Great Northern she-bear and he is quite eager to see if she is as dangerous as rumor holds. I do not think it will be long and you will discover this for yourselves."

He left them together in a small holding cell to wait while the preparations were made for the afternoon's entertainment. "This is all your fault," growled the dark man to Markor, "if you had had the decency to either die or cooperate I could have dealt with those soldiers quite easily. Now we are both dead men and your precious princess is doomed to the same fate as before while Itria will feel the wrath of Saracen. You are quite a failure I think."

Markor said evenly, "things seem hopeless I suppose but while life lasts there is always hope. I may not succeed but others shall take up what I lay down."

The dark man threw himself down in one corner and sighed, "do you Brethren never despair? What is the fun in tormenting a man who will not give up?"

Markor laughed, "how can one despair who trusts in the source of all hope?"

The dark man growled, "where is your hope now?"

Markor shrugged and said, "we shall see."

Preparations were quickly made and within an hour, the court had gathered around the arena the King had had built for just such an occasion; the prisoners were shoved out a small door into the great sandy circle, surrounded on all sides by high walls behind which sat the spectators in tiered seats. The spectacles were open to the public and attendance was required of all who could come. It served as a very efficient example of what happened to people who disagreed with the King.

A gate on the far side of the ring was opened and a huge bear lumbered out into the arena, blinking after the darkness of its cage. The creature was huge and each paw boasted the largest claws either man had ever seen. She sniffed the air and looked about her in confusion. She was hungry and worse, grumpy from being roused from a nap and forced out into the bright sunshine. She approached the walls but found she could not scale them or reach the eager spectators on the other side. Then she noticed the pathetic humans in the ring with her. She gave a great roar, and in a lumbering run, charged the prisoners. The dark man shouted in triumph, "I may be a dead man but I die of my own volition. You however must face the wrath of the bear!"

His exultation was cut short as he watched Markor's eyes widen in surprise, his hand went to his chest as if he felt some strange sensation there, and then he collapsed as if dead. He sighed, wishing that there had been even one witness to this perceived triumph, however small and willed himself to die; his last thought was how utterly unfair it was that no matter what his powers, the Brethren always seemed to ruin his moments of victory. The bear reached the place where her prey had been. She growled in confusion and sniffed first at the black puddle that was all that remained of the dark man; she snorted in disgust and wiped the sticky liquid from her nose. She then nosed at Markor but found nothing of interest in one already dead. She grumbled in confusion and frustration and lumbered around the arena until someone opened the gate back to her lair. The audience was silent in amazement.

The King stood and called to the captain of the guard, "what has happened? Where are the blood and the screams and the terror? How can two perfectly healthy men just fall over dead? I want my amusement! Have we no other prisoners?"

The captain saluted and went to find other victims to sate the King's wrath while various servants set the arena to rights. The soiled sand was removed and the dead man dragged into the depths of the castle where he might be put to good use. In the lowest dungeon toiled a man whose job it was to prepare the meat for the King's fearsome creatures and it was in this room, upon a pile of carrion, that they laid Markor. All such victims, or whatever was left of them, eventually found their way to that pile and then into the bellies of the King's vile stock, but the pile also contained a number of goats, sheep, calves, and other creatures acquired by various means. The man in charge of the preparations did not differentiate between a lamb or a man, for to him a corpse was a corpse and the animals must be fed. He finished dressing the goat upon which he had been working and then made ready to put the man to good use. But the man stirred at his touch. He scratched his head in confusion and thought he must be seeing things, but then the man moved again and then, shaking his head, sat up.

His nose wrinkled at the scent of death thick about him and started in surprise to see a large man with a blood-spattered apron standing over him with a grim looking knife. Markor glanced down in further surprise at the pile of carrion upon which he sat. He stood shakily, ready to defend himself but the man just stood there and stared blankly, scratching his head. Ignoring the reinvigorated corpse, the man reached into the pile, took up a different victim, and returned to his place and his duties. Markor watched in astonishment. The man continued to ignore him and did not seem intent on raising the alarm. His business was with dead things and if a thing were not dead it was no business of his.

Markor shook his head in astonishment and began poking about the dismal rooms, hoping to find a change of clothes, that he might somehow blend in with the invisible servants that kept the castle running. He found a small storage room off to one side and within found a rough garment worn by the laborers who hauled water, chopped wood, and removed refuse. No longer stinking of death or looking like an enemy of the state, Markor crept off to find a place to await nightfall, when his mission would begin. He still marveled at the fact that he was alive. The bear was nearly upon them when suddenly he had felt himself snatched away, leaving the bear to nose about in confusion over his body. Once the danger was past, the Master sent him back to his body with instructions to free the princess, who must flee back to Itria with a warning that war would soon be upon them. Darkness fell and the more regal inhabitants of the castle went to bed while the less dignified came out to attend to their duties. Night was when the floors were mopped, and all the myriad chores required to keep the castle in good order, but which were too vulgar to noble sensibilities to be done during waking hours, were accomplished. Markor passed unremarked as just another common laborer going about his chores.

He found a soldier dozing by a pillar while he was supposed to be on watch. It was no difficulty to capture him, secure him in a small closet, and make off with his uniform and weapons. Now garbed as a guard of the castle, Markor had no trouble finding the Princess' chambers and relieving the guard on duty, for it was late and he would much rather be sleeping. The man disappeared and Markor gave him half an hour before opening the door he guarded. He glanced in and found the Princess sitting upon the bed, pale in the moonlight that streamed through the window. Her eyes were red with weeping and she would have screamed at the sudden intrusion, but Markor removed his helmet and held a finger to his lips. She nodded grimly and flung her arms about him in relief; they were still very much in the heart of danger but the presence of a friendly face brought joy into the midst of her despair. A serving girl crept out of the shadows and made quickly for the door, but Markor held her at sword point only to watch her fall to the floor, weeping disconsolately.

Katia and Markor exchanged a confused look, then the Princess knelt beside the weeping girl, "what is the matter Malia? You must not be afraid, for my rescuer has come."

Malia dried her eyes and said, "that is just it my lady! If you are not here on the morrow, I will be the next one fed to the bear! I must warn the King, if only to save my own life."

Markor sheathed his blade and said, "I will not leave either of you to such a fate. Can you disguise yourself and your lady as common laborers and sneak from the castle?"

Grim determination replaced the despair on the girl's face as she said, "we can sneak out using the refuse cart but I doubt the pony will outrun the guards' horses when they realize we are gone."

"Do it," said Markor grimly, "forget the pony and take the black horse in the last stall. Once you are free of the city, abandon the cart and let him have his head."

Katia's eyes widened as she realized what it was the man was doing. "You cannot!" she gasped, "You cannot be found here when we are gone!"

Markor smiled grimly, "neither can you escape if they suspect you are not still in this room. I will ward the door as long as I can and buy you some time, but you must go now. Ride home and warn your father that Saracen is even now preparing for war. May the Master ride with you."

She sighed, but quickly the girls made their preparations and vanished from the castle as planned. The unicorn was not pleased to abandon his master, but knew his duty and bore the girls to safety and raised the alarm in Itria. Markor stayed by the door until his replacement came and asked, "any trouble?"

Markor smiled and said, "no, things went perfectly. When is the wedding?"

The guard shrugged, "this morning some time. The servant had best be preparing the bride even as we speak. The King will not be happy if today is not perfect, especially after the dismal disappointment of the executions yesterday."

Markor said, "shall I look in to see what is passing in the room? It has been rather quiet."

The guard nodded, "that might not be a bad idea but it is your head if the lady takes it amiss and complains to the King."

Markor grinned, "it is a risk I am willing to take."

He dashed into the room, leaving the surprised guard without. The guard expected him to come out quickly but Markor did not emerge. He scratched his head, but figured the man was smart enough not to do anything suicidal. At least there was now the noise of movement and dressing going on in the room. It would not go well if the bride was not ready at the appointed time. A servant came with a breakfast tray and the captain came to see that all was in readiness, the soldier told both that the lady ought not to be disturbed, for she was in the midst of her preparations and all would certainly be ready at the proper time.

Markor spent most of the morning opening drawers, pacing the room, flinging bits and pieces of jewelry and shoes about. He was not surprised that he was not interrupted, with all the commotion he was causing it must be obvious to the none-too-bright guard that the Princess was too busy to be disturbed. When it seemed the appointed time was nigh, Markor finished his preparations and wondered what the King would think. There was a brief knock upon the door before it was suddenly flung open by the captain of the guard. He saw the woman sitting forlornly on the bed, covered head to foot in the finest material. His heart was moved by pity for a moment knowing her grim fate, but his loyalty was to his lord and that was the end of the matter. He said, "come my dear, it is time at last."

She stood then, awkwardly it seemed, as if she were unaccustomed to so much fabric. The veil covered her face in Saracenian tradition and would only be removed by her beloved after the ceremony. They made their way to the great hall where all the court was gathered. The King was resplendent in his ceremonial best and already stood at the front of the hall where an aged General stood to officiate the ceremony. The captain escorted the bride to her beloved, who then took her hand and the ceremony began. The King kept eyeing the bride, as if he smelled something slightly out of place, as if she smelled ever so slightly of death or decay.

Finally the General asked if the bride was willing for the union, to which the reply was, "certainly not," in a masculine voice, as Markor pulled off the veil and revealed himself to the astounded King and the entire court. The King turned white with terror, thinking that a ghost stood before him, to which the smell of the grave certainly added its own romance.

"Where is the girl?" stammered the King, "How is this possible?"

Markor grinned, "nothing is impossible for the Master."

The man's insolent grin was too much; terror was replaced by rage as the King drew his sword and struck off the man's head. Markor collapsed and the King drew a sigh of relief to see that the fiend was truly made of flesh and blood, however he had managed to survive his ordeal with the bear. The King stared at his blood-spattered clothes in dismay, angry that the wretched man had ruined his best garments, not to mention his wedding. He bellowed, "go find the girl and someone clean up this mess!"

Katia reached Itria quickly and warned her father of Saracen's impending invasion. He quickly mustered his army and met the invaders at the border in an ambush. The Saracen King had struck out in anger before he was ready and had not expected such an assault so soon. The Itrians were fighting for their lives, homes, families, and beloved King; the Saracens did not hold their tyrannical King in high regard nor did they relish the endless battles he seemed to enjoy.

The Saracens quickly broke under the unflagging courage of their foes. The King lost control of himself and started lashing out at his retreating soldiers with his sword; one man so injured turned back and struck with his own blade. The King fell mortally wounded and none of his soldiers or lords turned back to lift him from the bloody mire in which he lay. The Itrians withdrew to their own country, leaving the miserable King to die alone. The Saracens were long in recovering from the loss and were far more diplomatic in the future under the rule of a more reasonable King. Katia was finally able to ride to Astoria.

A Wish Fulfilled

"Pipsqueak!" laughed the older boy as the little girl burst into tears.

Iyan, her brother, let go of her hand and ran to face the bully and defend her honor, saying, "leave her alone! Go bother someone else. What makes you think you can tease my sister and get away with it?"

The mean boy laughed, "I can do as I please but she ain't worth the effort." He laughed all the more as he turned and vanished into the market day crowds.

Sara's tears had abated and she could not decide whether she was more insulted by the bully or embarrassed that her big brother had to step in to protect her. Her brother sighed and again took her hand, as they continued on their way home after finishing the errand upon which their mother had sent them. Sara was sulky when she got home and was eager to tell her mother the story and enjoy the coming solace, but her mother had no patience for sulkiness and soon told the girl that she had chores to finish. Sara complained bitterly, "why must I always sweep the floor and wash dishes? Iyan never has to do that sort of thing!"

Her mother smiled grimly, "Iyan has his own chores, as do you."

Sara whined, "but he gets to do stuff like milk cows and chop wood. He never has to do any girly stuff!" This debate was still going on as her father came inside the house. He could see that his two favorite ladies were in the midst of a disagreement and was wise enough not to get involved but Sara did not allow him that chance.

She said, "I want to chop wood and feed pigs father. Why must I always have the inside chores?"

Her father shook his head, "maybe when you are a bit older, but for now you must obey your mother. I must be off dear heart, those pigs are ready to go to town so you had best say your goodbyes to me and Iyan."

The girl broke into sobs, "why must I ever stay home when Iyan gets to go EVERYWHERE!"

Her father shook his head and said, "I would not say driving pigs to market was that much fun darling. You are needed at home to help your mother."

Sara began to screech and wail and her father was forced to leave without so much as a goodbye kiss and her mother was quick in ordering the girl to bed without supper. She ran to her room and sobbed inconsolably until bedtime and then her mother came to tuck her in. "Have you said your prayers?" asked her mother gently.

The girl sulked on the bed, "I have not and I never will again! I hate being a little girl! I never get to do anything or have any fun. I will never forgive the Master for making me a little girl!"

Her mother sat beside her on the bed and tried to brush the disarrayed hair from her face, but the child turned away in anger and would not endure her mother's gentle touch. Her mother sighed and stood, saying, "the Master made you exactly as you are and He loves you very much and has a very special purpose for your life, but I suppose in the heat of the moment you cannot believe such a thing but it is true nonetheless." The girl glared insolently at her mother, who could only blow out the candle and leave the child to sulk herself to sleep.

The quiet little room suddenly seemed filled with moonlight, but the girl could see no full moon streaming in the window. Then a quiet voice asked, "do you really hate being who and what you are?"

She stared in astonishment at the Great Unicorn that stood in her tiny sleeping chamber, as He continued, "do you not know that I made you to be yourself and that that self is infinitely precious to Me?"

A tear came unbidden to her eyes and she sobbed, "but it is so hard being a little girl! It must be much easier to be a boy or a princess! Not to mention more fun! Why did you make me such a miserable little thing? Can you not let me be something else?"

The Unicorn shook His head in amusement, "child, you can only be as I have made you, but I can show you why you will never be content until you are content as who and what you are. Perhaps you will realize your seeming plight is not so terrible after all. If you tire of your new life, simply call out to Me and then we shall discuss this further." Suddenly He was gone and the whole world shifted into darkness. For a moment Sara was dizzy and wondering what had happened and if this was perhaps a dream but she felt quite awake, though not quite herself.

It was no longer evening, for the noon sun was high overhead; she was also certainly not herself. She was taller and stronger and older than she had ever been in her life. She caught her reflection in a water barrel and gasped, she was also a boy! She, or rather, he smiled in anticipation, this was going to be fun! No more housework or bullies. Now she could be the bully and she could run around and get into scrapes and have adventures and play with bows and swords and horses. Sara wandered out into the market square and gaped, there was Iyan as she had seen him that morning but he was not escorting her, but some other little girl that must be his sister in this weird reality. Sara smiled in malicious glee and ran up to the pair and scoffed, "Iyan, why don't you throw that little mouse to the cat? That's about all she's worth."

The girl started to cry and Iyan ran to her defense, but Sara did not hear him, for she felt very sad for the little girl and worse that her own brother was defending some other child than herself! Iyan gaped in astonishment as the big, mean boy ran off with tears in his eyes and a confused look on is face. Sara hid in an alley and could not imagine what had come over her. She had thought it would be fun to pick on a little kid but she felt so horrible and wretched inside that she wished with all her heart to have that moment back but it was too late. Maybe being a boy was not so easy and fun after all?

"Hey Stan!" came the voice of a boy her own age, "Let's go raid Farmer Bout's orchard." She nodded and ran off with the other boy, thinking that at least here would be an adventure that would not make a little girl cry. They climbed over the fence, but Sara's pants caught on a nail and tore slightly. She laughed and joined the other boy on the far side but her amusement was short lived, as the farmer had seen their intent and came after them with a stick and set loose his two great dogs. The boys howled in fear and dashed for the fence but not before feeling the sting of the farmer's stick upon their backsides and suffering a great fright from the dogs.

Sara ran all the way home, not quite knowing where she was but certain that in this reality, this was the way home. She came into the yard panting and a sloppily dressed woman of amazing girth stepped out of the house, "where have you been you worthless wretch? Thankfully yer father's at the tavern else he'd have yer hide. You'd better go cut some wood or he'll be in no good mood when he gets home. What? Tore yer pants? Yer only pants!" She disappeared inside and reappeared with a willow switch and applied it liberally to her son's exterior. She hissed, "now quit that caterwauling and get busy!" Sara apparently knew how to cut wood in this bizarre alternate reality and spent the rest of the sweltering day doing just that and was quite miserable in the process, for her stripes ached, especially when the sweat ran into them. She decided being a boy was not as much fun as she had hoped. Finally the man of the house came home quite drunk and beat his wife and son just for good measure and then fell into bed and was sound asleep before he hit the pillow. Sara sat down behind the wretched little house and wept. She was well and truly tired of being a boy. The world shifted around her and she found herself in a brand new reality.

The morning sun slanting through the windows of the grandiose chamber filled her with joy and trepidation for she must certainly be a princess to have a room such as this! And oh the clothes! A servant girl came into the room, bowed deeply, and helped her majesty rise from her bed and begin her morning dressing ritual. Sara was so happy she wanted to share it with the world, the servant girl seemed a chipper little thing, and perhaps they could be friends. The girl was mystified when the princess began talking to her as if they were equals and said quite respectfully, but her astonishment and mortification came through in her voice, "Majesty, perhaps you may go riding with some of the young ladies that will come this afternoon but I would never dare to aspire to chat as an old friend with such as yourself! Your father would have me switched and sent from the castle!"

Sara wanted to cry in frustration, for all her joy she had no one to share it with! Her loneliness only became more acute as the day wore on, for after her solitary breakfast, her tutor was brought in for her morning lessons. The ancient man was as dry as winter leaves and his voice sounded like the wind rattling through said faded leaves. He asked questions and lectured on in his boring manner but he was no fit companion for such a creature as the princess; it seemed as if the morning lasted a century but finally lunch came and joy with it.

Finally Sara had company of her own sort, or so she thought, for she was to lunch with two noble daughters of her acquaintance. But they talked of nothing substantive, for all they could manage was to giggle vapidly at some lord's nose or some lady's ill-fitting gown or swoon about a young lord or gossip about some intrigue or other that had happened to one of their coterie. The talk was shallow and mean spirited and Sara's heart sank to be engulfed in such a mire. After lunch, she rejoiced to know that she would be allowed to go riding! She loved riding very much but only ever got to sit on the plow horse while her father led the beast about; this would be a real horse and she was big enough to stay aback it on her own. But she was sorely disappointed, for she was not to gallop free upon the hills but was required to ride slowly and in the insipid company of her two lunch mates, who chatted on as ever while a half dozen soldiers came with them.

Sara made one last dash for freedom but the stern eyed captain cut her off and said harshly, "Majesty, if you desire to ride so recklessly, I must certainly accompany you back to the castle." She sighed and returned to her silent place in the retinue.

Finally they returned to the palace and prepared for supper, which was to be a grand affair, for it was said a visiting prince from a neighboring Kingdom had arrived that afternoon on an important errand for his father. Supper was an experience but Sara's heart ached for some real companionship, even if it meant a plain meal of meat and bread and cheese at her father's table. Her parents were quite regal but neither paid her any heed and her younger sisters prattled on eagerly with one another in the same fashion as her shallow friends from lunch. She was seated next to the Prince, who was above forty years of age and was far from handsome and even farther from intelligent. After the meal, the King and his family attended the man privately until bedtime and Sara was forced once again to sit beside him while he bragged about his riches and power and of his father's Kingdom. No one else said much of anything.

Mercifully bedtime came, and after the Prince had left, Sara asked her mother, "would you come and tuck me in?"

She gaped at the child and said, "you are old enough to go to sleep without such a nicety, besides the servants can certainly manage such a task. Why would you want the tedium of my company? Have you not enough entertainments and amusements that you are in need of my attention?" She laughed and walked away, wondering at the fit that seemed to have taken her daughter.

The King said quietly, "I hope you like the Prince, for you shall be married in a fortnight."

"Married!" gasped Sara, "But he is thrice my age! I do not like him in the least!"

Her father shook his head sadly and said, "well you shall do your duty nonetheless I think, for this is the first chance at peace we have had with Ambroth since my father's time!" He patted her on the back and walked away. Sara ran to her room and wept, wishing she were not a princess.

The world lurched again, and with both hope and fear she opened her eyes to find herself in a great house and garbed as a great lady. She smiled, perhaps a princess was bound to duty and all that but perhaps a Lady had more control over her own destiny? She sat down at the table and the servants brought forth what should have been sumptuous fare, but what turned out to be nothing but turnips and dried pork. "What is this?" she demanded of the servant.

He stuttered, "is it not as you have ordered Lady? During this terrible drought the peasants suffer greatly and you have declared that you shall suffer with them. You eat as they eat, if they eat at all." She sighed and apologized for her outburst and set to work on the pitiful plate, which seemed far more pathetic after her recent feast. After the dismal meal, a great lord was led into her audience chamber and made his bows, far too obsequious for her taste.

He began, "your ladyship I have come to offer you peace."

She smiled slightly, "and what shall be the cost of this peace? Have you finally realized that raiding my border farms is unethical?"

He laughed harshly, "certainly not! If you will marry me, we shall unite our lands and you shall have peace on all your borders."

She sighed, "be gone from my presence until you can speak sense. If your men will not quit harassing my folk I fear violence may result."

He laughed darkly as he left, "that would be unfortunate for you I think."

And she knew with dread that he was right, for he had twice the men at arms that she had. Suddenly a servant appeared bearing a letter from the King, asking for her presence at a grand ball this very evening. A ball? In the midst of a drought that had lasted two years? She sighed and knew she must attend or suffer the consequences for such a slight to the King, which meant arraying herself and her retinue in their best finery and taking the carriage and the best team of horses. Such would not look good to her starving peasants but she could not insult the King. As they rode out, the stony faced peasants they passed smote her heart but she knew she could do naught else. She started to cry and wished she were not a lady any more.

This time she found herself a wandering minstrel. She laughed for joy, now here was true freedom! She wandered into the local inn and played and sang all the night but met with only indifferent appreciation for her talents. The innkeeper and his patrons gave her a scant donation and then it was all to bed. She was given a crust of bread for supper and allowed to stay in the leaky stable loft, though it poured all night so she slept very little. Stiff and cold, she set out once more and hoped to reach the estates of a very rich lord ere dark. Footsore, weary, and ravenous, she came into the lord's house. He was already drunk and only had a taste for a certain whining ballad that Sara personally detested, and he had her play through the entire, lengthy piece eight times. Finally he was dozing in a chair and the housekeeper beckoned her to follow. She showed her out the kitchen door, handed her a pittance, and told her to have a nice evening. It was well past midnight and it was raining again. Sara wandered out into the dark and decided this was no ideal life either.

She found herself a soldier which she thought might be quite exciting, for she had always wanted to use a sword and ride about in armor, but she found herself standing watch on a great wall in the middle of the night with a cold wind howling out of the west. Trying very hard not to fall asleep and tumble from her post, she spent a miserable four hours before she was relieved. She found the barracks but could not sleep on the bed, which was little more than a board. Word came early the next morning that they must ride to war and her heart leapt for joy, at last an end to the tedium! They spent weeks riding, sleeping on the ground, eating stale rations, and by the end of it Sara was desperate for a battle. But the terror and the confusion and the danger of a battle were no place for her she quickly decided. She gasped in horror as she killed a man and then screamed in agony as another soldier ran her through with his own blade. She lay dying in a muddy pool of her own blood and decided she did not like being a soldier any more than she liked being a princess.

She awoke to find herself a wealthy merchant riding with her wares from village to village. This she thought, would truly be an adventure! She could meet new people and see new places and be her own mistress yet would not have to sleep outside or starve! She wandered from place to place, sleeping in inns when she could and spending her days haggling with housewives over the prices of her various wares. She grew very lonely and the excitement of travel and sleeping at an inn was soon lost. Every person she talked to seemed interested only in what kind of a deal or profit they could make by her acquaintance. Then she met a horde of bandits one day as she was nearing an inn and they managed to steal everything she possessed and would have stolen even more had she not screamed and brought help from the village. She wept for her lost livelihood and knew herself to have become suddenly poor and oh so alone. The innkeeper said not ungently, "at least you still have your life." She wept all the more for what kind of a life was this?

The world lurched and she found herself aback a galloping unicorn, wearing a sword, and off on another adventure, for she was one of those mythic warriors known as the Brethren. At last, here was a wonderful and happy life. She drew rein in front of an inn and spent the night speaking to those within but most ignored her and some mocked. She retired for the night and spent the next several weeks in similar pursuit which very much reminded her of her time as a minstrel, though the unicorn was a dear companion and certainly was better than walking. She still felt an aching loneliness and wished that someone might appreciate her efforts. Finally someone did take notice but not as she would have hoped. She found herself crossing swords with a dark man who seemed intent on silencing her permanently and he very nearly succeeded but before the darkness consumed her utterly she cried wretchedly, "oh to be a little girl again!" And then all was darkness.

She sat in the dark, alone and weeping until she saw moonlight and felt a gentle touch upon her cheek. She looked up into the fathomless eyes of the Master and laughed, for here was true joy! She did not care who or what she was if only she could spend forever looking deep into those eyes. He shook his head in amusement and said, "someday child, but now is not that time. So you do not wish to be a princess or a boy or a lady or soldier or anything else but what you are?"

Tears came to her eyes and she wept, "oh what a fool I am! For mine is the happiest life of all and my miniscule trials are nothing compared to what others must suffer."

The Master said, "all lives are filled with sorrow and fleeting joy child, but you have learned well that just because you have money or power or have traveled much or have attained some lofty goal that that does not mean you shall ever find joy, purpose, or meaning. To find such you must be who and what I have created you to be."

She threw her arms around His neck and said, "can I go back to being plain, old, simple Sara? I shall never sass my mother again or refuse to say my prayers."

He laughed, "child you shall certainly sass your mother again but I would hope that it becomes an infrequent occurrence as you grow in virtue and grace and learn to live as I would have you. I shall never be far off if you truly seek Me!" He was gone and her lovely, familiar room was again before her.

She leapt from her bed and ran to her mother's room and threw herself into that dear lady's arms, weeping, "oh mother! How I have missed you. I shall be such a good girl from now on. I am so happy to be your little girl!" Her mother stared down in amazement at the change that had come over the child, for only a moment ago she had put the furious child to bed.

She told her tale with such vivid detail that her parents could not help but believe her and the lesson remained long in her young heart. She did, as the Master had said, sass her mother and misbehave but she was never again unthankful that she was who and what she was.

An Eye For an Eye

War had raged between Yar and Nara for over a century. Once they had been one united country, prosperous under the rule of a wise and just King, but he died suddenly not having appointed an heir, leaving his twin sons to fight for the throne. A civil war that nearly destroyed everything their father held dear raged for almost twenty years before the boys came to a tentative peace by dividing the country in two. Still the borders were disputed and raids into enemy territory were an everyday occurrence. Clashes between enemy soldiers on both sides of the border were no cause for alarm or even concern, as it was just another day in the divided Kingdom. Increasing the tension was the law on both sides of the border that no wounded or captured enemy combatant would be allowed to live and return to their homeland, thus even those that survived the battle but were unable to limp home before being overtaken by the enemy died.

The death toll was catastrophic on both sides of the border but neither would relent in their unending war, claiming the other held full responsibility for the incessant conflict and content with nothing but total surrender. So it was that each generation of young men went off to join the army, and if they came home at all, they were injured to point that they were no longer useful as soldiers and left to scrape a living as best they could. The women married young men and after fathering a son or two, he was required to enlist, leaving many a widow and orphan to survive as they might or returning years later a cripple to beg their support. They were very proud of their soldiers and their courage in the midst of such unremitting heartache, so much so that few could imagine a country without a perpetual war.

So it was that Mrik, the youngest son of the King of Nara, found himself leading a raiding party into Yar. He was not eager for this excursion but his father insisted it would be good for him and was absolutely necessary if he wished to avoid exile. Reluctantly he agreed while his father muttered under his breath about boys who spent too much time listening to the idle words of peace mongers and not enough time advancing the cause of their homeland. Whereas Mrik's elder brothers loved nothing more than to play at war and fighting during their childhood years, Mrik had found no greater love than to listen to the countless stories told by one of the Brethren stationed in Nara as their advisor to the King (who most certainly avoided taking the advice of said peace monger).

In his formative years, such a vice was overlooked, but now that he was of age, Mrik could no longer hide behind the naiveté of youth and must take his place amongst the renowned warriors of Nara. So he rode off to war to appease his father though his own heart yearned to be doing anything but. They had not long crossed the border when they came upon a raiding party of Yarans bent on similar pursuit. Battle was met, men and horses screamed in rage and pain, swords clashed, the survivors limped off to relative safety or to seek aid, and the dead, dying, and injured were left for a time to themselves. Mrik's knee was badly injured and he had taken a hard knock to the head when his horse fell. He woke to find himself lying amongst the carnage of battle. He grimaced in pain as he drew himself up to survey the wreckage. Half of his men lay unmoving, as did an equal number of Yarans.

So much for his place among the renowned warriors of Nara! He knew he would not live long if so much as a peasant came upon him, even they would strike down an injured man wearing the wrong colors. Suddenly a thought came to him, perhaps if he were clad in the colors of Yar he might be able to crawl to the borders before anyone realized from whence he had come. He crawled to the nearest body sporting Yaran blue and exchanged his own red tunic for the dead man's garment. Overwhelmed with the brief exertion, Mrik lapsed again into darkness. He awoke to find a rather attractive young woman with large, sad eyes holding a cloth to his forehead. She smiled gently when she saw her patient coming awake and firmly held him down when he weakly tried to sit up.

She said quietly, "your leg is badly wounded and you have taken a fair hit to the head but I think you will recover well, save the knee of course. You are quite safe from the grief and trials of war within these walls. Once you are recovered enough to travel, you may go where you will."

Mrik relaxed a bit when he realized that no one was waiting with a sword to ambush him and said, "I thank you for your kindness lady, why waste it upon such as me?"

She said sadly, "no human life is worthless, my poor man. We have taken in many wounded men over the years and none of our efforts have been vain. Only such a war as this is vain."

She glanced around anxiously and her large, frightened eyes drew pity from her patient, as he said, "fear not, I love war as little as you. Your secret shall be safe in my keeping."

She smiled then and cocked her head curiously, "how is it then that you come to be a soldier if you hate war so much?"

He said ruefully, "you know as well as I the penalty for all that refuse to enlist. But you are right, if it were such a dear belief, exile or death would be no small price to pay in the defense of it. Perhaps I am not as strong morally as I ought to be."

She laughed then and said, "yes, but now you have an excuse to escape legally. You will never walk firmly upon that leg again which will render you useless as a soldier."

He smiled at her gratefully and then lapsed again into sleep. She withdrew from his side and spoke quietly to her aged father, who sat nearby, "I have bound his leg and tended his head, there is little now that I can do. But I think time will heal much. What do you think of him father?"

The old man shook his head gravely at his daughter's eager tone and said, "time will reveal what it will. You have chores to be about, do you not?" The girl blushed terribly and ran from the room to attend to her waiting chores while the man laughed warmly at his daughter's swift resumption of her interrupted duties.

Mrik was in and out of consciousness for three days until finally he felt rested enough to try to reenter the land of the living. His leg was bound up and with the help of a cane, he was able to hobble about fairly well. He felt awkward around his hosts because he owed them his life yet endangered theirs by remaining with them; neither did he know how to repay their kindness to him. At first they were aghast that he wished to help out around the farm, but he was persistent and they desperately needed the help, as the man was feeble with age and the girl could only do so much. Finally they allowed him to do simple things and they found themselves quite amused at his complete lack of knowledge about the very simplest of tasks.

He laughed at their astonishment and said, "I was once an aristocrat and never had need to lift a finger, for I had servants beyond number to do even the simplest task in my stead. However, I am more than willing to aid you as I might around here if only to repay your kindness though you will certainly have to teach me what I must do."

The old man laughed, "kindness is no kindness if one bestows it with the wish of repayment. You owe us nothing but if it will make you rest easier, then certainly you may take part in those tasks my daughter sees fit to set you. I am surprised at such a work ethic in a Lord's son, but I will not laugh at it."

Mrik smiled, "I fear I was born to the wrong father, for I am a lover of neither idleness nor war, but the aristocracy favors both! Lead on lady and show me what you would have me do." She took his hand and laughing, gently led him out of the house and off to the barn to indoctrinate him in the fine art of stock keeping. Though lame, it was not long before he became an indispensable member of the household and greatly eased the strain upon his grateful hosts. They had never had a convalescent display quite this fervor and gratitude and it intrigued them both. Finally the day came when the King's official came to inspect the wounded man and either declare him fit for duty or excuse him from service.

The official looked over the now healed but quite stiff joint and declared, "I cannot allow such a cripple as you to reenter his Majesty's service. I am sorry, but I must discharge you. Where are your papers?" Mrik tried to hide his anxiety at being discovered and his joy at discharge, by saying, "I have no papers, they must have been lost in the battle."

"No papers!" gasped the astonished official, "Such is not done in a proper bureaucracy but I suppose in extenuating circumstances these things might perhaps be overlooked. In future I caution you to be far more careful, for most of the King's officials are not as lenient as I. You could very well start a trend that will undermine the very building blocks of society!"

The rumpled official quickly drew up an official document of discharge, which would excuse him from further military service and also give him an official standing in the Kingdom. Mrik and his hosts bowed politely as the man left and then shared joyous and amused smiles. "Now what?" asked the old man, "I suppose you will be going home?"

The boy shook his head, "I would rather stay here but I know I try your patience and have long overstayed my welcome."

The girl gave her father a horrified glance and beamed when the old man nodded knowingly. He said, "I would not mind you staying on I suppose. You have been some help to me around the farm but you would have to promise to marry my daughter and become my son."

Mrik gave the old man a shocked look, in his heart of hearts he had hoped for such a thing but had never dared to once think it might become reality. He gasped, "I would like nothing better sir."

"Very well," said the old man gruffly, "but see that you do not call me sir too often for it makes me feel old."

Mrik hugged the old man and said, "very well, father."

The old man laughed, "that is much better. Welcome home lad."

So it was that Clarissa and Mrik were soon married (now that Mrik was in possession of some official Yaran paperwork it was quite an easy matter). Within a year, the old man welcomed a granddaughter into the family and was more than content with his son-in-law. He did not live long after but died a happy old man.

The years passed quite blissfully and Clarissa had not long ago borne another daughter, when her husband saw her sneaking into the abandoned shed he had thought was long since boarded up and unused. He followed after, thinking their eldest child might perhaps be up to some mischief. He opened the door not long after she had closed it and gasped to see his wife not alone in the musty room. A man lay upon a rough cot, obviously sick or injured gravely. She turned around in horror at his discovery and tears welled in her eyes but determination was strong on her face. Mrik glanced again at the stricken man and this time the significance of the matter and the reason for his wife's secrecy were quite clear: the man was a soldier of Nara. They had nursed half a dozen injured men since Mrik's arrival in similar fashion and they lodged quite comfortably in the house, but she feared he would think ill of her or even kill her patients if he knew she were nursing wounded enemies.

She bowed her head and said, "I wanted to tell you but I was never quite sure what your reaction would be."

Mrik said quietly, "this is not the first?"

She shook her head, "I have helped several others of his allegiance without your knowing. Forgive the subterfuge but I thought it necessary."

He drew her close and said, "I understand but it still hurts to know you do not trust me wholly as I hoped you would. Why do you do it and put your own life in danger?"

She sobbed, "I care not what color coat they wear! They are men, living, breathing human beings who are suffering and would die else. Do they not deserve the same love and compassion that our own sons receive? I will not stop until forced, for I think my cause more worthy than even life itself!"

Mrik laughed ruefully, "then you are certainly braver and stronger than I was the day I rode to war for my father. I will never ask you to stop love, nor will I betray your secret. You are right in saying that all men deserve such love, not just our own countrymen. We will fix this place up a bit that your guests may recover in more comfort than the current situation affords, but I must also tell you a secret that I have long kept, both for fear at your reaction and also for fear that if you knew and evil befell me, you would be dragged down with me into ruin. I was born and raised in Nara; I am the King's youngest son. I fell injured in battle and swapped coats with a fallen Yaran, fearing for my own life at the hands of those who found me."

Her eyes were wide with astonishment and hurt but she said, "it seems we both have kept things back that would have been better shared with one another. Let us agree to no more secrets betwixt us!" He laughed then and held her close and she cried in relief and joy. Her patient slept on. So it was that the years passed and they and several likeminded neighbors took part in the plot. One of their invalids recognized the late prince for who he truly was, though he kept this secret to himself until he was healthy enough to cross the border and tell the King that his lost son was yet alive.

Rumor had already reached the King that some of his injured soldiers were being nursed back to health by the Yarans and allowed to return home. The return of the man who had identified his lost son started hopeful thoughts running through the King's head and he soon dispatched messengers to seek out Mrik and inform him of his father's plans. The spies were not long in discovering his hiding place and waited until after dark to knock upon the door. Mrik opened it slightly and held his sword in his free hand, fearing some trick at this time of night.

"My Lord Mrik," said the one, "we mean you no harm, your father the King sends his greetings." Mrik exchanged a horrified look with his wife, who was sitting nearby, heavy with their third child. He sighed, knowing he could not leave the men loose alone in the night. Reluctantly he opened the door and the men made their bows and entered. "Your Highness," began the one.

Mrik said, "I no longer claim any rank nor title. I am naught but a crippled peasant farmer and wish to be nothing more. What is it you want?"

The man said, "your father has become aware of your exile and also of the compassionate treatment of some of his injured soldiers by folk in these parts. He is hopeful that such compassion can be used to turn their hearts towards Nara and that this whole border country might perhaps cede itself willingly to your father's Kingdom."

Mrik stared in astonishment and disgust, "my father thinks that the only reason these folk occasionally take pity upon an injured Naran is to gain his favor because they wish to become Narans themselves?"

The man nodded smugly, "precisely."

Mrik shook his head in absolute amazement, "we have no wish to subvert the laws of Yar but by abiding by that wretched dictum we violate the laws of conscience and the Master Himself, which we will not willingly do. We show compassion upon these men for they are simply men and worthy of such regard. We care not whose colors they wear but simply that they are thinking creatures and beloved of their Maker."

"I do not understand," said the spy.

Mrik sighed, "and neither will the King of Nara. Go back and tell him that his plans are folly and will not avail him. I will not aid him in his scheme, neither will the Yarans. Tell him I am quite content and wish to be left in peace."

He shoved the protesting men out into the darkness and they had no choice but to ride back to their thoroughly displeased master. A neighbor passing upon some late errand saw the strangers ride away and quickly went to speak to someone in authority about the strange midnight visitors. Over the next week, the farm was closely watched and it was soon discovered that treachery was rampant about the place. It was not long before a half dozen of the King's soldiers stood outside the house and made their presence known with much banging and shouting. There was no answer from within but the wail of a newborn child. The midwife had just placed Mrik's son in his arms, when the soldiers came into the house and dragged him away on charges of treason. The startled midwife snatched back the infant and did her best to calm the very agitated mother. They took the man by the shoulders and forced him to march towards the derelict shed and secret infirmary. They forced open the door and killed the two invalids in Naran blue within, taking the bloodied tunics as proof against their prisoner.

They would not speak to the prisoner for the entire journey to the capital, where he would stand trial before all of Nara that could be gathered to watch. He did not know if they knew his true identity, if they only knew of his aiding enemy soldiers, or if there were other charges real or contrived against him. They reached the castle and took him to the dungeons where the King himself waited to interview the prisoner. "Why boy?" demanded the King, "Why defy my laws and aid our bitter enemies? But worse, why consort with known spies of Nara?"

Mrik looked up in surprise, "I have done nothing wrong in giving aid to wounded men; it would have been far more grievous to leave them without aid or worse, kill them. As to consorting with spies, I was accosted quite unexpectedly by two men of Nara and quickly sent them packing once they had made their allegiance and plans known to me. I have done nothing to undermine the authority or safety of Yar and if I have violated the law for tending the wounded, then it is the law that is unjust and not my actions."

The King scoffed, "we shall certainly have an interesting trial tomorrow and if you are found guilty, I fear your entire family shall share your fate."

Mrik's heart dropped at the thought of his wife and children suffering such an end but that was yet to be seen. He nodded grimly and steeled his heart for the morrow's trial. He spent a sleepless night in the grim, rat-infested cells and was taken to the city square quite early, unwashed and unfed. A large and hostile crowd had gathered for the day's spectacle. The only glimmer of hope was the presence of a man in the uniform of the Brethren amongst the officials, who otherwise looked grim and almost eager for the day's event.

He was made to sit bound in a rickety chair facing the officials, behind which the ravenous crowd booed and shouted obscenities. The King himself presided over the affair and intoned, "my fellow Yarans, welcome to this grim proceeding, which may well reveal a terrible traitor in our midst. This man stands accused of not only defying Yaran law in allowing enemy soldiers to live but also of harboring Naran spies in his own house." The King then called forth the soldiers who had captured Mrik and also his neighbor, who had seen the men leave his house at such a dangerous hour. The crowd grew even more rabid as each witness gave his testimony. Finally the King called for silence and said to the condemned, "have you anything to say in your defense? Your guilt appears quite certain but you are allowed to speak, perhaps a confession will garner mercy for your poor children."

Mrik stood shakily and said to the gathered crowd, "I do not deny that I nursed several wounded men of Nara back to health, but what has also been overlooked is that my family has done the same for twice their number of Yaran soldiers. Why is it treason to render aid to one's fellow man, no matter what side of the border he was born upon? A hundred years ago we would have been countrymen! In the eyes of the Master we are all brothers and His dear children. What right have I to deny a man aid when I can give it? If I have defied the law it is because the law is unjust. The law itself violates the deepest laws of the human heart and the Master as well."

A grizzled general stood up and yelled at the prisoner, "that law has been in effect since those wretched Narans began the grim practice; we are simply repaying their own heartlessness!"

Mrik said, "the Narans say it was Yar that began the evil practice. Does it matter who began it if we all continue it? It was put in place by men no longer living yet the cost is borne by those who had no part in its making. We perhaps had no choice in making the law but we do have a choice in its continuance. Evil begets evil until it is ended with love. The Narans must do as they see fit, but must Yar continue to have innocent blood on its hands because of a tradition begun long ago? How many young men have died in the last century because no one was strong enough to stand up and say that enough is enough? Perhaps if we end the vile practice, Nara will soon do likewise?"

There was much booing and upset from the crowd and the King scoffed, "fine words for a Naran loyalist. It will certainly be to your benefit to spare the lives of so many of your soldiers while ours continue to die by Naran hands. What of the accusation that you played host to enemy spies? Can you prove yourself a loyal Yaran? You have no proper papers, only a discharge order from one of my officials but nothing before. Are you not a spy yourself?"

Mrik said, "I am a loyal Yaran, my wife and three children are Yarans. I have spent the last seven years working the land, cripple though I am, to feed my family and pay my taxes. I have never raised a hand against anyone and have aided countless Yaran soldiers in distress. I however was not born in Yar, though here my heart has ever been. The men who briefly paid me a visit were emissaries from the King of Nara, who had heard rumors that some of his men had been treated with compassion by the Yarans ere they returned home. He hoped this meant the Yarans would be willing to cede the borderlands to Nara but I informed them otherwise. We were simply compassionate folk helping our fellow men, not caring upon which side of the border they were born."

The King laughed derisively, "and why did they come to you in particular?"

Mrik looked in anguish upon the crowd, hung his head, and said, "they had also heard rumors that their King's youngest son was still alive though long thought dead in a border raid."

There was much astonishment from the crowd and the officials and the King asked, "and is this true?"

Mrik looked deeply into his eyes and said, "my father is the King of Nara and seven years ago he sent me quite unwillingly upon a raid into Yar. I was injured and stole the colors of a dead Yaran that I might save my own life. Your loyal subjects nursed me back to health quite unknowing of my origins and I have lived among you ever since. I have been nothing but a loyal peasant of Yar since that day and had no intention of ever again returning home or having any contact with my homeland, but I fear one of the men I succored recognized me and informed my father."

The King was quite astonished and turned to the Brother beside him, "does he speak truly? Can such an enigma truly be? Tell me he lies and is simply a traitor."

The man in the uniform of the Brethren said, "he has spoken truly throughout Highness. The only crime he has committed is against your own vile law, which as I have told you countless times is quite unjust and a violation of human conscience."

The King said dryly, "I did not ask for your appraisal of our laws, however I must apparently drop the charge of collaborating with enemy spies but he still stands guilty of defying that particular law. He is too valuable a prisoner to kill outright as our laws demand. What do you suggest be done, boy?"

Mrik said, "I perhaps stand guilty by your laws but I die with a clear conscience. I would have that awful law changed and perhaps begin to renew peace between the divided nation. Either you must change the law and release me, kill me for a traitor, or send to my father and ask him to come that you might negotiate peace, or at least a decrease in hostility, between you."

The King scowled, "I will not relent until your father does, and it is he that must apologize and surrender to me. I will keep you alive as a hostage and perhaps he will bend to my will."

Mrik laughed grimly, "with the message I sent him via the spies I am afraid he will certainly never do anything to save my life. I was never his favorite son even before my exile, but now I shall certainly be of little value to him. I have defied him and he shall certainly deny me."

The King said grimly, "then we shall have ourselves an execution."

Mrik went to his one good knee, with tears in his eyes, "shed my blood if you must but spare my wife and children. This bestial law has resulted in enough bloodshed on its behalf. Do not repay their good with evil. When will it end if you do not end it? How many young lives must be lost? How much of a nation's wealth must go to fight a useless war? What matters who started it when both are guilty beyond doubt of crimes beyond number? When will the slaughter end?"

The King growled, "you have willingly violated a law of Yar, not to mention are a soldier of Nara and thus a sworn enemy. There is no good reason why I should spare your life. Your wife shall be dealt with according to our laws, her future I think shall be no happier than your own."

"Happy?" Mrik said grimly, "As long as needless war rages between our nations I shall never be happy. Perhaps it is a small mercy that I not have to endure life much longer in such an unjust country!"

"Take him away," said the King, "we shall watch him die publicly tomorrow."

They led the prisoner away and the King closeted himself with his closest advisors and most powerful lords. He paced back and forth before them and said, "should we change that law? It has been in force for over half a century!"

An aged lord said, "we would be giving Nara a distinct advantage in number of casualties sustained. Who is to say if they shall reciprocate? Nay, I say it is a necessary evil."

The advisor from the Brethren said, "perhaps if you offer the first sign of peace, Nara will see it and begin to wonder if this is truly a just war. Why must so many die needlessly? Who cares who started it when each atrocious act causes more enmity and strife and soon all is awash in blood and anger and none can see anything but red."

The King snarled, "do you want to join the traitor in his fate? Long have you lectured me about that particular law and the war in general. My father had your predecessor executed for just such a statement. Now be quiet unless you can say something productive."

Another lord spoke up, "this war has cost us much in both resources and population. We should be the richest nation in the south but alas we are the most destitute and likely to decline even further. We shall destroy ourselves if we do not change our ways."

The King stared, "but is it not age old tradition and the source of all our pride and courage?"

The Brother spoke, "he speaks truly my Lord. Nara and Yar are both in decline and within a few generations will vanish as independent states unless something is done to rectify the situation."

"I will not repeal the law!" screamed the King, "Now who is going to stand against me? Any who continue to defy me will find their neck on the block with that traitor on the morrow." He looked grimly at his advisors and all save the Brother and the rebellious lord bowed their heads in acquiescence. "Well?" demanded the King.

The lord said, "I will not repent Highness."

The Brother said, "I stand by what I have said."

The King said with a voice dangerously quiet, "when did you grow a rebellious spine Lord Higgle? I expect such inanity from the Brethren but not from a loyal lord of Yar."

Lord Higgle said, "I am an old man and this war has consumed my six sons. My house shall perish as so many have before it and as will others after mine. It matters little if it falls tomorrow or in a decade, all is come to naught. If this boy is worthy of death, then I think we all must be."

The King sighed, "what if I relent and the Narans do not repay us kindness for kindness? I may have a civil war on my hands!"

The Brother said, "that is the risk you must take if this war is ever to end. Why not send an emissary to the King of Nara and ask his response?"

The King laughed bitterly, "he would send the messenger's head back in a box. You saw what the kindness of this rogue and others like him produced: the man thought they were becoming sympathetic with Nara and suggested a revolt! No, Narans are not to be trusted and are therefore less than human, so it is no crime to kill them. My edict stands. I shall certainly send an emissary. The boy's head shall be returned to his father. Let us see what he thinks of that." The King sighed, "I do not like this rebellious talk of yours Lord Higgle. I think it best if you withdraw to your estates and refrain from ever showing your face in public again. And as for you Yoric, I tire of your ill advice and almost wish to send your head back to your precious Lady as a warning but I know it will do no good. If you cannot keep silent, I cannot promise that your life will be a long one."

Yoric smiled grimly, "I cannot but speak my mind Majesty so you must do as you must to me, but I ask that you spare the poor man's wife and children."

The King laughed dreadfully, "she knows the law as well as everyone else. She is as guilty as her husband and will no doubt share his fate. Mind your own business Yoric and you may live a little longer."

Yoric bowed and said, "things shall be as they must Highness."

They withdrew from the chamber and after all had left, the King drew one of the guards aside and said quietly, "I fear treachery this night, have Yoric watched and if he tries to leave the castle, arrest him." The guard saluted sharply and disappeared down the corridor to carry out his orders. Yoric knew he could do nothing for the captive but perhaps he could spare his wife and children. He knew the King suspected something and he had little time to act. He quickly wrote a letter and ran to the stables where his unicorn was stabled. He tacked up the creature, secured the letter to his harness, and let him out a side gate before the guards caught up with him.

"Going somewhere?" asked the suspicious soldier.

Yoric grinned, "not without the King's leave of course."

The guard smiled sardonically, "and that you certainly do not have. I would watch myself if I were you."

The unicorn ran with all the speed of his kind, reluctant to leave his master but certain that this task must be done. He came to the farmstead and found Clarissa, grieved to her heart and nearly sick with worry. She nearly dropped her infant son when she saw a unicorn looking in her kitchen window. She gave the baby to his eldest sister and slowly approached the magnificent creature. He stared significantly at the message in his saddlebags and she eagerly obliged him. She gasped to learn of her husband's impending doom and that her own arrest was imminent. The letter also advised her to flee with her children aback the unicorn and seek refuge in Astoria. Yoric also asked that she warn any of her neighbors involved in similar pursuits that they should also flee ere the King's wrath came upon them.

She had already packed for a journey, not quite sure if she had the heart to make it, but for her children's sake she had to go on. She felt she was abandoning Mrik, but the note also said that if the poor man somehow survived, Yoric would direct him towards Astoria. She wrote a quick note to one of her neighbors, who had also taken in injured Narans, warning her of their plight and asking that she inform all of their accomplices. She then secured the infant to her chest and placed one child before her and one behind. There was not much room, but the patient creature somehow accommodated his awkward burden. They stopped just long enough to pass on the letter Clarissa had written and then vanished into the night not long before the soldiers came to arrest her. Heartbroken, hungry, tired, but determined to go on, the refugees arrived in Astoria still wondering what had come of Mrik, but thankful they had arrived safely.

Very early in the morning, a soldier on an exhausted horse rode madly through the castle gates with urgent news for the King: the woman was fled. The King was horrified that such a traitor might escape justice. The soldier was given a fresh horse and he and his men were to ride in pursuit. Another group of soldiers was dispatched to comb the neighborhood and see if they could find anyone else involved in such activities. The King would see this problem rooted out and the perpetrators destroyed before it could grow into full scale rebellion. Clarissa's note arrived none too soon. Hasty preparations were made and all who had been involved in the plot quickly fled Yar, along with many who felt the King's justice quite unjust. By the time the soldiers arrived to root out evil, they found only the faithful remaining, of which several were put to the sword just to show that something had been accomplished, for the soldiers feared for their own lives should they come back empty handed. Those who failed to find Clarissa also refrained from returning home for the same reason.

Yoric was called to the King's chambers despite the late hour, and it was not long before a full confession was had. The King sighed, "I warned you Yoric and now you will suffer for your temerity. You will die alongside the traitor."

Yoric said grimly, as the soldiers came to take him away, "as long as life is so little valued in this Kingdom it will never prosper. We die innocent of all blood, but your reign and that of all your fathers is stained with the blood of countless men, ours is but the latest."

The King laughed darkly, "we shall see who it is that prospers."

Dawn crept slowly over the rim of hills in the East, but the sun failed to show her face and a steady drizzle accompanied the morning. Yoric and Mrik were roughly pushed up the uneven stairs of the quickly erected platform in the midst of the city. A grim crowd had gathered for the morning's amusement and many uncomplimentary things were yelled at the condemned. Mrik was quite surprised to find himself with such a companion, but grateful that at least his family was far beyond the reach of the murderous King. It saddened him to know that his pleas had gone unheard and that the King was resolute in keeping that dreadful law in place.

"Are you afraid?" asked Yoric of the boy.

Mrik grinned like a child, finding that he knew something his mother did not, "I am disappointed in the King and grieved that I shall not see my children grow up, but long have I trusted the Master and know that one day beyond all sorrow and tears, in the Master's bright country, we shall meet again."

Yoric smiled deeply, "as long as we trust in the Master, we need worry about nor fear anything, for all things shall one day be set right. We shall not be long parted my friend, for death is but the beginning of greater things for all who hope as we in the Master's great promises."

The charges were read, the prisoners were forced to their knees with their necks upon the block, and one after the other fell to the swift stroke of the axe. Yoric and most of Mrik were quietly buried but as promised, the King of Nara soon received a rather distressing package, compliments of his mortal enemy in Yar. The King had little affection for his renegade son but this affront was beyond humiliating.

He increased his raids upon the border villages and ordered his men to not simply steal, but to also burn all in their path and kill every man, woman, and child they encountered. The King of Yar reciprocated and soon a full scale war was raging. Many fled the embattled nations as the war escalated and the brutality increased on both sides. Within a generation, the warnings of Yoric and Lord Higgle soon came to pass and both Yar and Nara collapsed, having consumed themselves in an endless cycle of violence and revenge.

### Art Critics

"Go fetch the healer boy," said the old woman as she came back into the main room of the little cottage, "your master will live but he still needs her attention."

The boy nodded dutifully and dashed from the house after receiving directions from the woman. He was soon in the saddle and galloping off to fetch the local herb dealer. Jorum was not long in reaching the house to which the old woman had directed him but there seemed to be no one about. Cautiously he approached the cottage, whose door was slightly ajar, and caught a glimpse of movement through a window.

"Hello?" called the boy. There was a sound of surprise and running feet, Jorum ran to the back of the house and caught the fugitive as he darted out the backdoor. "You are not the healer," said he with a grin.

His captive, a boy about his own age but much thinner and not quite so tall, struggled to free himself and growled, "no I ain't so you had best be letting me go about my own business."

Jorum asked, "then where is she if you are so familiar with this domicile?"

The boy sneered, "mind your own business. You have no right to detain me!"

Jorum laughed, "I have every right to detain you if you are in a place where you have no legal right to be. What exactly were you doing in there?"

"An excellent question," came an amused female voice, "and one whose answer I would dearly like to know."

Both boys started and looked suddenly upon the woman who Jorum had been seeking. The captive boy scowled, "I found the place abandoned and thought I might take a look around."

The woman said patiently, "and help yourself to anything of value or interest while you were about it?" The boy shrugged but wore a sheepish grin.

"This is all very well," came another voice, this one young, masculine, and annoyed, "but I have pressing business that must be attended to immediately."

The woman laughed, "your father's toe is acting up again is it? Well I shall attend to it as soon as may be but this other lad was here first."

"But!" said the newcomer in surprise.

His complaint was cut short as the woman said, "gout is not an emergency young man, and Lord though your father be, it is the seriousness of the condition that dictates who gets tended to first."

The young lord rolled his eyes and said, "that is a silly way to go about things. Rank should have predominance in all matters."

She shook her head in exasperation and looked to Jorum, who still held the prisoner, though he had ceased his struggling, and she asked, "and what is your errand here boy? Besides for catching petty thieves that is."

Jorum grinned, "I was sent by the old widow who lives upon the Slough Road. My companion has taken frightfully ill with something she calls the 'swamp ague' and asks for your help."

She nodded thoughtfully and said, "certainly a nasty disease, especially to those new to these parts. He should certainly be seen but I am afraid I have other errands."

Jorum's eyes were large as he made to beg her assistance, but she cut him off and said, "unless of course I could convince the three of you to attend to a little errand for me and then I would be free to aid your varied cases?"

"I ain't helping you witch!" said the thief, "I don't need no medicine."

The healer laughed, "you will go with these gentlemen to atone for your misuse of my property else I shall turn you over to the rightful authorities."

The boy nodded in disappointed resignation, the young lord looked rather appalled, and Jorum smiled in amusement, as he said, "and what is this quest you shall set such unlikely heroes, my lady?"

She smiled at his words and said, "in a town some thirty miles from here resides a junk dealer who has come into possession of perhaps the world's ugliest painting. You three shall remove yourselves thence and acquire said painting for me, thus freeing me up to attend to your needy acquaintances. The painting itself has no particular value save perhaps to a collector of obscure art, but to me it has a certain sentimental value and I have long been in search of it."

Jorum smiled, "this seems no nefarious plot. I shall certainly lend you aid, as will my reluctant companion here. What of you, your excellency?"

The young lord scoffed, "I shall attend to this fool's errand but only that my father may gain swift attention. You try my patience madam but for now I shall entertain you."

She laughed greatly, gave them directions and described the painting, and then gave them a few coins for the purchase thereof. She left swiftly to attend to her waiting patients and the boys exchanged an amused and scandalized look. "I am off then," said the thief, but Jorum held him firmly by the collar, "you will do as you have promised or I shall see that you face the proper authorities." He sighed but made no more attempts to shirk his duty.

The young lord said, "I shall assume command of this farcical operation as I am certainly the wisest and most experienced of the three of us."

Jorum smiled and said, "as you wish, my lord." The thief shrugged noncommittally.

"Have you horses?" came the querulous voice of the lordling.

Jorum nodded but the thief scoffed, "you think I would be poking about for valuables in a hovel such as this if I were rich enough to ride?"

Jorum smiled, "he can ride with me. My mount can stand two riders with no ill effects."

Quid nodded abruptly and motioned the pair towards Jorum's mount, while he went to fetch his own. "I do not know how to ride!" said Kork, the thief.

Jorum laughed, "just get into the saddle behind me and hold on to my waist."

He nodded skeptically but proved quite adept at scrambling into the saddle. Jorum's mount eyed the newcomer disdainfully; the apprentice laughed, patted the great neck, and tried to reassure the unicorn, who could only shake his head in acquiescence. The young lord appeared astride his charger, looked askance at the common sort of horse the unicorn appeared, shrugged, and led the way down the road to Fennec.

The young lord and the thief were neither one interested in talking but Jorum had no such qualms. Irritated by this peasant's behavior, Quid scowled, "have you no respect for your betters boy? If I want your input I shall ask it but until then you shall remain blissfully silent."

Jorum laughed, "I am not one of your subdued servants my lord and claim the right to speak as I will."

Quid sighed, "alas that you are not so easily cowed. How is it you come to address the nobility as if you were their equal?"

Jorum smiled, "and who is to say I am not?"

Quid raised a hopeful eyebrow and said, "you are then of noble blood?"

Jorum laughed all the more, "certainly not! In the eyes of the Master all men are equal, it is only amongst ourselves that we quibble so over rank and seniority and power."

Quid wore a look of dread, "please do not tell me that I have been saddled for this entire journey with one of the thrice cursed Brethren!"

Jorum smiled, "I am not sure I qualify as thrice cursed but yes, I am of that calling but only an apprentice, so you are perhaps spared the burden of a full Brother." Kork groaned miserably to discover he had fallen afoul of the Brethren.

Quid said, "what a strange company we make! I wonder why she sent us all?"

Kork finally spoke, "a wonder that she did not put a spell on the lot of us!"

Jorum shook his head, "she was no witch. Certainly there are some herb dealers that also dabble in the black arts but she was not one of them."

Kork gasped, "how can you be so sure?"

Jorum smiled, "I should have felt it if she were such a practitioner."

Quid scoffed, "my father would allow no such dabbler within his lands so you can be assured she is no meddler in evil."

Kork smiled, "I think I shall trust his lordship in this matter. Feel it indeed!"

The day was nearly worn out, the weary sun had almost fully concealed himself behind the horizon after the long day's march across the sky as the travelers stopped for the evening, nearly halfway to their destination. They lit a small fire and ate what Jorum had in his saddlebags, being the only one prepared for any sort of journey. The thief's tongue began to loosen in both curiosity and at the absurdity of his situation; Quid seemed to relax and forget he was nobly born. Jorum was talkative as ever. Quid asked of the apprentice, "so have you had an adventure or two in your life or do they simply lock you away in a tower until you are mad enough to believe all the stories are true?"

Jorum laughed, "and who is to say they are not? There is often more truth in a story, even a fictitious one, than in much of the vaunted wisdom of men."

Quid shook his head, "your proselytizing will not work on me, so you might as well give it up now. I am a satisfied skeptic. I would not even believe the sky were blue if I did not see it myself each morning."

Jorum grinned, "then is it yet blue when the clouds obscure it or when you have not yet glimpsed it of a morning?"

Quid glared at the insolent boy, "why certainly you fool! Your seeming logic will not sway me."

Jorum smiled, "you are the one who brought it up."

Kork said almost to himself, "as a little boy I once thought the stories true! I hoped with all my heart but then life proved them far beyond belief." Jorum looked at him quizzically and he continued, "you would not find them easy to believe if your mother had died when you were just a little boy and your father cared nothing about you. I have lived on the beneficence of strangers and relatives nearly my whole life and supplemented it with what I could scrounge on my own. Where is your beloved Master in my plight?"

Jorum nodded, "the same place He has ever been, calling you to Himself through all your silent griefs and unbearable sorrows."

Kork scoffed, "what does he know about suffering?"

Jorum said quietly, "He need not have known death, but He tasted it for us. He need not have allowed His creatures the chance to betray Him but He did that they might know the true freedom of loving Him willingly. He need not have allowed our treacherous race to continue and allow His heart to be smitten each time one of us chooses evil over good, selfishness over love. He knows suffering. He knows sorrow. He has borne them all and will one day overthrow all grief forever, but until then we can ever turn back to the Source of all joy and He will share in our private griefs."

Kork smiled slightly, "you almost give me hope."

Jorum returned the grin and said, "that is my greatest joy."

Quid scoffed, "lovely fairy tales all! You have no right to steal, thief! It would be better if you just allowed yourself to starve and rid the world of your pestilence."

Kork made to lunge at his tormenter, but Jorum stood between them, "peace! This adventure will soon be at an end and there is no need for bloodied noses and missing teeth or cruel words!"

Kork resumed his seat but wore a dreadful scowl, while Quid smirked mirthlessly. Jorum could only sigh and shake his head and wonder if this adventure were truly worth it. They retired, grateful that it was the middle of summer and no rain threatened. Morning came, as morning ever does, and awakened the three adventurers to what they hoped would be a quick and successful mission. They were soon in their saddles, after having finished the scant rations in Jorum's luggage, and well on their way to Fennec. They spoke very little, though Jorum tried to engage both in conversation, but Kork still fumed over the previous night and Quid felt himself wholly above both of his companions. They completed the journey in silence and upon entering the town, soon came to the shop specified by the healer.

"You want the world's ugliest painting?" gasped the shopkeeper, "Why you are the third group inquiring of just such a work today! I should have sold the thing for thrice the price, if only I had known it was so important."

Jorum asked, "who then purchased such a curious work?"

The shopkeeper said, "his lordship the Mayor is a collector of unique art and could not help but buy it. I sold it to him quite cheaply, as I feared I would never be rid of the thing. It came to me in a load of junk someone had salvaged from a ruined manor house somewhere in the Wilds. Is there nothing else I can interest you in?"

Jorum shook his head, "I am afraid that painting was our only interest. Who else came looking for the picture?"

The shopkeeper said, "a rather rumpled man in his middle years who said it was an old family possession."

Jorum thanked the man and Quid said, "I suppose our quest has failed. It cannot be said we did not try; I cannot wait to be rid of your company!"

Jorum said, "we had at least better talk to the Mayor about it."

Quid sighed, "as you wish, I suppose it will not be that much more of an inconvenience."

They walked out into the bright noon sun and quickly came to the Tavern, wherein the Mayor was wont to dwell over the lunch period. The man was easy enough to spot with his bright clothes and the gold mayoral chain about his neck. He looked quite out of place among all the craftsmen, farmers, and lesser merchants that shared his noon meal. He eyed the three boys with interest, especially the richly dressed youth, but it was Jorum who said, "sir, we hear that you have recently come into possession of a rather ugly painting. We were sent to acquire said artwork for a lady who claims some emotional attachment to the piece. Can we perhaps persuade you to part with it?"

The mayor swallowed his bit of toast and laughed, "why you are the second party that has asked about that painting today! I told the other fellow, as I shall tell you, that I really have no interest in parting with it, as it is certainly the ugliest painting on earth and therefore quite valuable. Perhaps for the right price?"

At this he eyed Quid quite openly and the boy scoffed, "I will not part with one piece of silver for that thing and my father certainly shall not!"

Jorum said, "is there nothing we can do to convince you to part with the work?"

The mayor snorted, "not unless you pay me an exorbitant amount of money you won't" Just then, a noise of shouting and wailing came from outside the inn and grew louder as the distraught servant rushed in to speak with his master the Mayor. "What is the reason for such a caterwaul!" groused the mayor.

"Oh my lord!" gasped the servant, "Someone has broken into your house and stolen your much beloved painting!"

The mayor stood in indignation, "who would dare such a thing? I bet it was that scruffy fellow who wanted my painting earlier!"

Jorum spoke up, "my lord, if we could apprehend the villain, would you sell us the work for a fair price?"

The mayor thought it over for a moment and smiled viciously, "that anyone would dare break into my house is an outrage and it would be a pleasure to bring the villain to justice. So much of a pleasure that I would gladly sell you what you seek for whatever price you shall set."

Jorum smiled and said, "then we had best investigate this matter further. Can we have access to your home, that we may look over the scene of the crime?"

The mayor eyed him skeptically but said, "do as you wish but my servants and guards shall watch you closely. See that you come to no mischief!"

Jorum bowed deeply, "certainly my lord." The mayor snorted and returned to his lunch, after telling the servant to do as the boy had asked. As they traipsed to the scene of the crime, Jorum said to Kork, "this is certainly the reason you were sent on this mission. Who better to discover the latent secrets of a crime than a thief?"

Kork smiled in anticipation and Quid scowled, wishing to be well away from Fennec by now but also bound by honor to see this ridiculous errand through. Kork contemplated, "perhaps there is a treasure map or some renowned painting on the back of the canvas of such a work? Why else would anyone go to such pains to retrieve such an object?"

Quid snorted, "I think they are all of them mad!" Jorum smiled quietly to himself.

They soon came to the mayor's house, the servant gathered a dozen large men and dangerous looking women to make sure their master's house came to no grief at their hands. There was not much to see. The painting had hung in a place of honor in the main entryway of the house and it was now gone. A stranger had come to the house inquiring after their master, had knocked over the servant who answered the door, grabbed the painting, and ran as fast as he could. The house was in an uproar and the man had vanished, though pursuit had been close behind. Kork could find no relevant clues about the house and the servants described him much as the shopkeeper had. Jorum sighed, gave his condolences to the servants to pass along to their master, and led the way out of town, for there was now little they could do to pursue the man.

"I told you this was pointless," scoffed Quid as they rode away, "and I will be very glad to see my father again and be well away from you two."

They rode along in amused though disappointed silence, for none could help but laugh at the absurdity, but yet each felt some remorse for not having accomplished so silly an errand. They went as far as they could while the light lasted and then made a rather hungry camp, having exhausted their meager supply of food. Jorum took his bow and hoped to have luck hunting, but the light was too feeble to even attempt a shot at a squirrel. He sighed and made to return to camp, but stumbled upon a man sleeping in the midst of the woods. Beside him lay a horrible painting propped against a tree. Jorum drew his sword and the sound of steel sliding on steel brought the man suddenly out of his sleep. He started to find a boy holding a sword to his throat. The man then broke into tears, which only confused the boy more.

Jorum had to smile at the strange situation, his mirth shone through in his voice, as he said, "what troubles you man and what is your strange tale that you would steal such a horrible painting?"

The man stifled his sobs and then burst into laughter, "to think anyone else on earth would want that hideous thing! I stole it because I could not buy it. I have tracked it across half the world and seek it only because it is the one small memory that I yet have to cherish. I weep because I thought you had come to take my life after I had attained the only bit of joy I have left to me, which is the sweet memory evoked when I gaze upon that hideous work."

Jorum withdrew his sword from the man's throat but did not yet put it up. He said, "I am afraid you have woven a very tangled web for yourself sir. I am duty bound to carry you back to Fennec that you may face the consequences of your actions."

The man's face fell into utter dejection, "that pompous mayor of theirs will call for my head for such an offense!"

Jorum said, "I shall also see that the punishment is no worse than the crime. Why is it you stole that thing?"

The man laughed, "is it stealing to take back what is your own? Long ago I painted that wretched thing for a woman of my acquaintance, back when I thought I had some skill in the art, but alas the woman is lost to me and I never did have much skill. She and I laughed long and hard over that awful painting and it reminds me of the happiest days of my life. Alas, she left me for other pursuits and I fell into a discontented depression and cared nothing for my duties as a lord. I wandered for a time and returned to find my estate in disarray and overgrown with weeds. All my valuables were gone and nothing remained but the inconsequentials, including that painting, but it brought back bitter memory and for a time I would go off again, make just enough money to survive upon, and then returned again to my ruined estates. Ever that painting was there and eventually it reminded me of the good days without invoking utter despair. But on my last foray someone carted away much of what was left, including the painting, and I was years in tracking it. But alas I am now a criminal. Can you not let a poor old fool alone with his shattered past?"

Jorum shook his head, "I told the mayor I would bring you back if I found you but perhaps we can end this to everyone's satisfaction?"

The man nodded glumly and followed Jorum patiently back to their camp. His companions gaped to see the man and even more so the much sought after painting. The man asked, before they went to bed, "what interest have you in this painting anyway?"

Jorum smiled, "a lady with a personal interest asked us to retrieve it for her." The man was not quite so despairing as he rolled over and went to sleep. In the morning he was very nearly ecstatic.

They went back to town and sought out the mayor, who did indeed call for the man's head, but Jorum and the town elders managed to talk him out of such a proposal and the man settled for receiving three times what he had paid for the thing the day before. The man opted to join the three boys in their journey back, though Quid was quite put out to be riding with another odd companion, perhaps one worse than a peasant, for he was a disgraced noble! Laughed the man as they rode, "this is certainly a strange journey, perhaps the Brethren will one day put it into a song or story or something?"

Jorum smiled, "that may well be. I am not sure I know of an odder mix of adventurers or a stranger prize. Now what is to come of the painting?"

The man smiled, "I will present it to your lady and we shall see what comes of the tale."

Jorum smiled and the other two scratched their heads in wonder. They camped again that night and Quid cornered the fallen lord, saying, "what made you give up all you once possessed? What power on earth is great enough to make one do such a thing?"

The man said wistfully, "love is a strange and dangerous thing lad, and a broken heart is ruinous."

Quid scoffed, "you are all mad! You give up everything because a woman scorned you? That fool gives up all earthly pleasures for an imaginary lord, and the thief wanders ever searching for what he cannot find."

Jorum said, "all men can find great love if they truly seek it, but it is not of romance of which I speak. The Master alone is the source of that love; the fountain from which springs the only water to quench our yearning mortal souls."

The man smiled and said, "perhaps you are not so mad as your companion thinks, lad."

They arrived back at the healer's cottage without incident the following day and she eagerly came out to meet them. She said to Quid, "your father's toe is in passable health." She turned to the boy, "your master shall recover, though he shall be three weeks abed at the least." She turned last to the thief, "what have you to say for ransacking my house, boy?"

Kork scuffed his toes in the dirt and said, "it was wrong of me to take what is not mine without asking, lady. Forgive me."

She smiled and said, "very well, now what about my painting?"

Jorum smiled, "we even brought the original artist to present such a unique work to you madam."

She gaped as the painter stepped out from behind the barn and gave her the horrendous work. She ignored the painting and gaped at the man, "is it truly you Stanly?"

He laughed sheepishly and said, "it certainly is Morta. Can your old heart still love me? Mine has not forgotten and has spent my entire life pining away for you."

Tears came to her eyes as she said, "I was a fool to abandon you for something as silly as my life's work! This has been no life without you. If you will take me back, I shall not refuse you." Quid could only shake his head in astonishment while Jorum and Kork laughed for joy. The woman said, "when I sent you three after that painting I had no idea what would result. You have my thanks!"

Kork said quietly, "maybe the Master really does care about the doings of mortal men."

Jorum grinned, "it seems I have three weeks at least to discuss the matter with you."

Kork smiled and Quid could only roll his eyes, but he did say, "perhaps you should visit my father's estates? I am sure he would be amused by any stories you might have to tell, true or not. This does not count as friendship however, it is a mere courtesy. The thief may come as well."

Jorum smiled, "it shall be as you wish it, my lord."

So it was that the three boys spent the better part of three weeks together and the reunited lord and his lost lady were not absent much from their company either. It was a strange and merry party with many tales told on all sides. Even Quid had to admit that he had witnessed a miracle, if a strange one, and his heart slowly began to soften towards such lowly characters. Finally the day came when Jorum's mentor was able to travel once more. He was quite amused by his apprentice's adventures and even more astonished when Kork and Quid wished to go to Astoria to learn more of the Brethren and their strange ways. The healer and her lord were married and lived many long and happy years in that land, though his lordship's toe did not live quite so happily ever after as he might have wished.

### As the Perishable Beasts

Gauk sat on the hill overlooking the sleepy little village below and gazed at the fluffy clouds scuttling by like so many sheep. It was a breezy day in early summer when the freshness of spring is still palpable but the contented fullness of summer has already set in; it was warm but there was yet a coolness in the breeze to keep one invigorated. "I am here," said he to the air. He waited for an interminable moment and when nothing happened, said impatiently, "and where are you?" Again the only answer was the piping of a sparrow in the grass and the hum of the wind as it passed by. He sighed, his studies in theology were not going very well. Everything else in nature, from caterpillars to oak trees, were easy enough to study if one had the patience and the time. He was an avid student of nature and wanted to know everything about everything. He had learned all he could of the local flora and fauna and without the means to travel, his studies were stymied by the lack of novel subjects for contemplation. Thus he turned his eager mind towards the supposed source of all things natural; certainly if he could understand the maker of all things he could understand the things themselves all the better. However, it was becoming increasingly obvious that the Maker did not lend himself to study as easily as a butterfly or rosebud.

How then was he to learn more if he could not see or touch the subject of his curiosity? A little voice inside taunted that perhaps there was nothing more, perhaps this was it. But Gauk laughed the voice of doubt to scorn and thought of all the wonderful things around him and how they could not be an accident or an aberration. There must be something more.

He brightened as his friend Brin joined him on the hillside, "how go your contemplations of the mysterious?"

Gauk laughed, "still very mysterious."

Brin smiled, "that bad huh?"

Gauk returned the grin, "let us just say inconclusive, shall we?"

Brin laughed, "as you like it then." Brin was certainly a skeptic about anything he had not seen firsthand and was not likely to take anything on faith, but he had a sharp mind and a quicker wit, thus making him the perfect companion for the brilliant but quiet Gauk. They had been friends since they were old enough to remember anything and had had countless adventures together in their endless quest to satisfy their boundless curiosity.

Gauk sighed, "I do not know how to proceed? I am out of my depth in this matter."

Brin smiled teasingly and said, "why not put your god to the test and demand some proof of him as they did in the old stories, and if he does not prove himself then be satisfied."

Guak brightened, "that is an excellent idea."

Brin was stunned, "really? I had thought you would scoff and say that this supposed Master of yours would not deign to the whims of mere mortals or some such nonsense."

Gauk laughed, "not your crazed experiment, your reference to old stories! How do we learn? If not from personal experience we learn from the experience of others, thus the stories. I am going to Astoria."

"Astoria?" smirked Brin, "Are you mad? You would starve before ever you were halfway there! What do a bunch of hermits and mystics know about reality?"

Gauk smiled, "certainly more than me. Are you coming?"

Brin sighed, "you certainly could not get there without me."

They quickly ran home to pack and tell their parents of their latest harebrained scheme. They nodded and smiled, knowing their adventurous offspring would be back in a week once the rigors of real life set in. They never stayed away very long on such adventures after all. But in this assumption they were quite wrong. The intrepid pioneers set out for and finally reached legendary Astoria, after a month's hard travel they arrived weary, cold, and footsore but more excited than they could say, if only for having achieved the success of the journey, they were content.

They stayed on for a little over a year and delved deep into the vaunted knowledge of the Brethren, but Brin soon wearied of a life of study and wanted to see more of the world. He found Gauk one day and told him of his growing unrest, saying, "we have come and you have had ample time to discover the veracity of this deity of yours. Are you satisfied? I grow bored with this place and their platitudes and will soon be leaving to see what else the world has to offer. I am no more convinced of this Master of yours than when I first set foot within its gates. Will you come with me? Philosopher though you may be, you are a good friend and I would enjoy another adventure with you."

Gauk smiled at his friend's ill-veiled warmth and said, "I cannot leave, at least not yet. I found what I came in search of and it is here I shall remain until duty calls me forth."

Brin gaped, "you cannot be serious. Do not entomb yourself here with these mystics! Come with me, for the whole world awaits us. What is there here but dusty books and mythology?"

Gauk shook his head sadly, "here is life and meaning and purpose! Can you not see that there is no meaning or point to anything, save that man was created for a purpose and was not the unhappy child of mindless chance? The Master is what gives man dignity and purpose and reason for being. Without Him life is just like chasing the wind: pointless!"

Brin laughed, "I am sorry that that is your view upon things, for to me, life is simply to be enjoyed while it lasts with no cares or worries during or ever after. I have no omnipotent being that demands me to behave myself and live like an ascetic! What does it matter if I live a hedonist as long as I hurt no one else?"

Gauk said, "there is no joy or peace without the Master my friend, and though you may not hurt another living soul yet you will hurt yourself. Why will you not believe?"

Brin was quiet a moment and said, "perhaps simply because I do not wish to. If this thing you have found makes you happy then by all means pursue it, but so will I also do that which pleases me." With that he walked away and vanished from Astoria and his wondering friend.

The years passed and Gauk never ceased to wonder what became of his confident but wary friend. Gauk joined the Brethren, and after several years as an apprentice under the guidance of a more seasoned mentor, he was given the chance to have his first solo adventure, which carried him far to the north well past the bounds of civilization, where only intrepid pioneers and fugitives were wont to lurk. There he accomplished what he was sent to do and rode home content in knowing he had done his best for the Lady and the Master. His contemplations were cut short as a fiery pain erupted in his shoulder, followed by the enraged screams of his mount, and then darkness took him as he fell from his saddle and met the hard ground.

He opened his eyes briefly to see a man standing over him with a knife to his throat, but he looked more confused than hostile, then he lapsed again into darkness. The cutthroat looked in confusion from the prone figure over which he stood to the leader of the small hunting party, who had denied him the right of the kill. This was highly unusual, they never left their victims alive. "Do as I say," said the leader, "bring him and we shall let the lord decide his fate."

They bound the hostage and dragged him back towards their encampment. The wary unicorn followed in the shadows, anxious for Gauk's safety but unwilling to risk further injury to his master as long as the fiends were intent on bearing him thence alive. "I do not like it," muttered the stymied killer, "I fear he is growing soft. The lord will set it right."

Brin wondered why he had spared his friend. The boy was obviously a heretic and a menace to freethinking folk. It also went strongly against everything their small clan believed to take a prisoner like this. He sighed, hoping his misguided friend might come to his senses and join them rather than ending like all the others. He was growing soft if such a pathetic thing as pity was playing fitfully through his mind! He quashed the rebellious thoughts and put on his most menacing scowl. They finally reached the village, the captive was laid on the bare earth within a small enclosure encircled by a small log palisade that made attempts to jump or scale the walls futile. The other hunters muttered darkly as they left Brin alone with the captive; he had no doubt they would soon be telling their lord about the weakness of their leader. Brin examined Gauk's wounded shoulder where the arrow had already been pulled free. It was not a bad wound; it was the fall more than anything that had rendered him unconscious.

Gauk stirred, interrupting Brin's investigation. The two friends stared at one another for a moment and then exchanged greetings after a long sundering. Gauk smiled, "I have had the strangest dreams. Where am I? What have you been about all these years? I thought never to see you again and here I thought myself fallen upon by bandits upon the way."

"We are not bandits," said Brin quietly, "in fact we are quite hard on bandits or others that think to take advantage of lesser men. We mistook you for such, as it were."

Gauk gave him an odd look, "who is we? Why did you attack first and ask questions later?"

Brin said, "I have fallen in with a group of progressive people who share my ideas on things and have carried those assumptions to their proper conclusion. We dwell in the heart of the wilderness where men seldom come and those who do can have no good intention, especially armed. To defend ourselves, and as a small service to the rest of society, we kill those who might threaten others if given the chance. We certainly do not fall upon women and children, or those escorting such, but all armed men are fair game."

Gauk frowned, "I thought you more noble than to kill for any reason than a just cause. You cannot have become a murderer!"

Brin laughed derisively, "call it what you will. I told you my folk have carried my ideas to their logical conclusion, well that conclusion is that man is an animal and as such there should be no taboo in treating him as such. Any animal is justified in defending itself and its territory and reaping the spoils of said defense. My men wished to kill you outright, as is our custom, but I stayed their hands hoping you might have come to your senses but I see you are just as deluded as ever."

"Why not just let me pass in peace?" asked Gauk quietly, "What threat is one man to you and yours?"

Brin said just as quietly, "it was not a question of threat. We are hunters and we take what prey comes before us, be it a deer or a man."

Gauk gaped, "you cannot be serious! This is some horrible joke!"

Brin showed no sign of laughing, "it is as I say. If men are animals, then there should be no qualms about treating them as such. How many weak folk in the south have we spared from the depredations of criminals that might otherwise have fallen upon them? We spare the women and the children, in that at least we are nobler than the mean beasts."

Gauk said in astonishment, "what have you become? Men are not animals that they can be hunted down like deer! You wondered once why I felt the Master so important and this is the reason! This is madness. What has happened to my friend?"

Brin's face hardened as he said, "I have discovered that life is difficult, impossible if you are not as cruel as fate is determined to be! I do not know why I stayed the hunter's blade, it was stupidity to think you might understand. You are nothing but a deluded fool, but at least your life will not be a complete waste. At least we can put your corpse to good use." Dark laughter interrupted this exchange and both turned their eyes upon a tall, broad man standing at the door of the surround. Brin bowed deeply to his lord and said deferentially, "what service may I lend you my lord?"

The intimidating figure said, "I have come to see what the cause of all the rumor has been. Your men fear you are becoming soft, but I hope that such is not true?"

Brin said stiffly, "I know I broke protocol for the sake of an old friend, hoping perhaps he might join, us but alas he is as stiff-necked and pigheaded as ever. He is yours to do with as you please my lord and I beg your forgiveness in this one lapse of judgment."

The lord eyed both boys grimly and said, "you have been a loyal servant until now and I see you are not lacking in fortitude even so. I will overlook this shortcoming but see that it does not happen again."

He looked Gauk over with his cruel, malevolent eyes and said, "and what of you? Why are you so repulsed by our ways? Is it not natural for the strong to prey upon the weak? Even so we make allowances for the most helpless of your race."

Gauk stood and said, "it may be natural if man allows his baser nature to become carried away with itself but the Master calls us to a nobler goal."

"The Master," scoffed the lord, "what can ruined man know of him and what does he care for you? You are nothing but beasts to prey one upon the other until you have destroyed yourselves. Your fate has been decided but it will wait a few days, for the hunting has been good and a rather unfortunate circumstance has arisen, but tomorrow or the day after you will cease to trouble us." He motioned for Brin to follow and together left the enclosure with Gauk still trapped within. The lord said to his minion as they walked away, "see that this does not happen again. Any further sign of weakness and you know what will come of you." Brin bowed his head in ascent and they walked on in silence.

Gauk wondered at the strange predicament in which he found himself. He felt the desperate fear of his unicorn but his own heart was even more disquiet within him. Could it possibly be true? Could there be such a heartless lot that would indulge in such a forbidden practice? Was it not bad enough to subject your fellow men to theft, murder, and rape but to go a step further and kill for the sake of acquiring meat? It was unthinkable but too horrible to make up. He tried to calm his agitated mount and needed all the Master's strength to quiet his own reeling mind.

He was not alone long in his quandary however, for the gate was opened once more and another hostage found himself in the little pen. The newcomer hobbled painfully on one leg; the other was splinted roughly with branches and pieces of cloth. The newcomer eyed his cellmate questioningly, until he flopped carelessly to the ground, saying, "so you are the cause of all the rumor in the camp?"

Gauk said quietly, "I suppose my former friend's behavior can be considered scandalous thinking to such as yourself. What is your sad tale?"

The boy eyed him strangely, "sad tale? I broke my leg severely and it will be months in healing, if it heals at all. I am handicapped to the point of uselessness, therefore only one practical solution is left me; I can do one last service to my fellow men and thereafter I need worry about nothing."

Gauk gaped, "you cannot be serious!"

The boy laughed derisively, "what is the point of living if you have no purpose in it and there is nothing beyond? I am a drain upon the resources of society and am only doing my duty as I see it. You cannot berate me for acting so nobly can you? I have also come to a point where I no longer find any purpose or interest in life. What is the point of waking morning after morning and going about an endless cycle of tedium and sorrow? We all must die one day and as everything is absolutely pointless, it is something of a relief to simply be done with the whole ordeal and do some good in the process."

Gauk was on the verge of tears for such backwards thinking, "a burden? You are made in the very image of the Master! He shed his blood to spare yours and you think life is pointless? What is noble about suicide? There is certainly a purpose in life and much more than we can ever imagine awaits thereafter. You will spend eternity in utter darkness!"

The boy gave him a patronizing smile and said, "I am glad your mythology gives you comfort but I am content with my current mode of thinking and would thank you not to pester me with outdated legends and children's tales. Oblivion is all our future! Face the facts my friend."

Gauk tried to speak, but the boy held up a hand and began humming blandly to himself as he rolled onto his back and tried to sleep. Gauk paced the wall on the opposite side of the enclosure and prayed as hard as he ever had for strength and guidance and hope for these misguided individuals. Suddenly the gate opened and a pair of grim looking men in their middle years stuck their heads in and called to the injured young man, "are you ready?"

The boy sat up, smiled grimly, nodded his head, and the pair entered and helped him to his feet. They disappeared out the door as the boy gave Gauk an infuriating smile over his shoulder, the door shut ominously behind them. Night fell and Gauk spent a sleepless night on the hard ground of the enclosure wondering what the morrow might bring. Dawn was long in coming but finally he drew himself to his feet and began working the stiffness from his muscles. Some hours later the door opened again, Brin entered looking grim. They stared at one another for a few moments until finally Brin said, "have you yet come to your senses? It is not too late."

Gauk shook his head grimly, "you are those who are deluded! How can you do this to any man, let alone a friend? What did your injured comrade do to deserve death? I have never met so heartless a people! This is an abomination and violates everything the Master holds dear. The Enemy is certainly pleased by your vile practices."

Brin smiled grimly, "I take it you have not recanted. I care nothing for your precious Master or his equally fictitious foe. Since you will not change your mind I am afraid that your hours have run out. You cannot say I did not give you every chance. Someday all folk that hold to such fallacies will end as you and that will be the beginning of a new age for humanity. You wallow in weakness, which causes the entire species to rot from within. Farewell."

He turned suddenly and withdrew but the door did not shut; the same grim looking men from the previous day stood there with malicious grins on their faces and said, "come along then heretic, we have not got all day." Gauk sighed, nodded grimly, and allowed the men to lead him away. Brin watched his deluded friend disappear around the corner with his escorts and tried desperately to fight down the repulsive feeling that rose in his heart. He hurried away to attend to some minor but forgotten task, anything to keep from thinking about what he had just done. He was stronger than this!

An hour later, the leader of the grisly band was pacing back and forth before his hut, deep in thought. He had assembled such a promising body of followers and had them quite firmly in his hand. The humans were worse than useless, mere cattle that should be eradicated from the earth. They had hoped the Dragon Wars would have been the answer but that failed utterly. Then they had hoped that humanity would destroy itself but again they had been sorely disappointed; no matter how many disasters they wrought amongst themselves they always managed to crawl from the ashes and begin anew. He was quite pleased with his progress in corrupting at least a small band of that ignoble race, now how to spread it abroad and make believers of the entire world? He looked up in surprise to see Gauk standing not five paces away, standing patiently as if awaiting an audience. He scowled and said, "what do you want? How did you escape?"

Gauk's reply was cut short as Brin came running up the path towards the lord's hut on some matter of business. The lord turned upon his minion and said, "have they not yet dealt with your friend?" He glared daggers at Gauk, who waited patiently for a chance to speak.

Brin looked hard in the direction his lord glared but could see no reason for his upset. He scuffed his boot toes in the dirt and said anxiously, "he will trouble you no more my lord. They took him an hour ago."

The man stared in amazement at the ghost before him and said roughly to the distraught Brin, "you are having second thoughts about your dealings with him who was once your friend?"

Brin looked horrified and said, "I would dare no such thing my lord!" But deep within his heart was reeling with horror and grief.

The lord smiled maliciously, "see that you do not. Leave me!" Brin wasted no time in fleeing the awkward scene while the tall man turned upon Gauk.

"There is something very strange afoot," scowled the man, "are you two up to something? If so, neither of you are long for this world."

Gauk said quietly, "I am no longer of your world. Your kind is far sighted beyond mortal wont thus you can see that which a living man cannot."

"What do you want then," snarled the eagle eyed man, "are you some mournful ghost that cannot rest? It would be a fitting curse for the treachery of your race."

Gauk said, "I am here at the Master's behest. This practice of yours is an abomination and cannot be allowed to continue. It must be stopped immediately or you bring His wrath upon your own head."

At this the predatory man laughed, "the Master's wrath indeed! What have I to fear? It was your blighted race that caused the downfall of creation and slew the Master himself. It is you who are under his wrath. I will not be taken in by the lies of a ghost!"

Gauk said grimly, "you have been warned. Heed well my words or you shall forever rue them!"

"I will take my chances," sneered the man, "besides, I thought there was no proscription against eating one already dead."

Gauk said grimly, "certainly it is reprehensible but not necessarily evil in desperate circumstances but you murder men to sate your hunger. You do not scavenge a corpse found by the wayside."

The man snarled, "men are nothing but animals therefore I shall treat them as animals. It is not murder to kill that which the Master despises."

Gauk shook his head sadly, "He does not despise men or any other thinking creature. Nothing could be further from the truth. Cease this detestable practice ere it is too late!" Suddenly he was gone and the man nearly fell over laughing. Abomination indeed!

His lordship found himself that evening intentionally seated next to Brin, who seemed to be having a tough go of the evening meal. He nibbled disquietly at his bread but would not touch the soup before him. His master sneered at his lack of appetite, "not hungry? Has your weakness affected your stomach as well? It will not do to waste food. Eat or tomorrow it shall be you in that bowl you refuse to touch."

Brin dropped his bread and stared dejectedly into his soup, "I cannot do it. Even if it cost me my life, I cannot do it! He was my friend."

The lord pounded his hand hard upon the table and snarled, "what does it matter that you knew his name? Is it any different than a cow or a chicken you had grown fond of? He is gone! He exists no longer! What is wrong with you?"

Tears stung Brin's eyes as he said, "he was right and I am a fool! Why could I not see it before? What have I done?"

The lord smiled darkly, "you have said enough. Your weakness is a threat to all the others. You know the penalty for such rebellion. Tomorrow you will die slowly before everyone and then shall grace our table for the evening meal. You shall not have the mercy of a swift death as did your friend."

Perhaps the horror deepened in Brin's eyes as they dragged him away to await the morning, but the bottomless pit that had been his soul cared little for the pronouncement. The topic of conversation suddenly changed to the weakness of a certain former comrade and speculation upon the morrow's spectacle. They left Brin alone in the little palisade, where he spent the better part of the night weeping. Finally as the moon raised her sleepy head above the fence, exhaustion finally brought an end to the tears. Brin thought perhaps he was hallucinating, for as he raised his head to wipe the moisture from his eyes he saw his friend squatting beside him. He gasped and the phantasm smiled as he had done so many years before when they were innocent boys together.

Brin stuttered, "is it truly you? How can this be?"

Gauk stood then and began pacing the enclosure as he had done the previous night, saying, "I am myself." He stopped and looked hard at his friend, "existence does not cease with the last beat of one's heart. You have despaired of life because of unquenchable guilt, but this need not be the end."

Brin sobbed, "I have not the heart to continue living and they will kill me tomorrow regardless. I have not the comfort of your precious Master! After the atrocities I have committed he will never accept such as I. All is lost and now you have come to show me that I will not simply cease to exist as I had hoped but will spend an eternity in regret and despair!"

Gauk said, "I was sent not to condemn, for man cannot judge his fellow men, but to offer you hope! You have done terrible things but the Master has atoned for it if you will but let Him."

Brin gaped, "He will forgive me even yet?" Gauk nodded hopefully. Brin said, "can He spare me from the fate that is set me on the morrow?"

Gauk shook his head, "that I cannot promise. The Master does as He will with His servants. But he can spare you from eternal darkness and the endless guilt that would otherwise haunt however long is left to you of mortal life."

Brin sighed, "to think that perhaps I finally find the meaning of life upon the brink of death!"

Gauk laughed, "it is far better than missing the point and ruing it for all eternity. Come my friend, what say you?" Brin smiled deeply as he answered.

Morning came grey and wet with fog, but this did not prevent the entire population of the little clan from gathering for the day's event. Brin was escorted out to the little grassy amphitheater where such gatherings were held and faced his former comrades. The leader of the grim band was surprised to see the miserable creature facing his doom with some semblance of equanimity rather than despair or terror. What was the pathetic wretch up to? He made his way down into the center of the gathering to taunt his former minion before the festivities could begin. "Your weakness ends at last!" scolded the large man.

"Do not do this!" said Brin boldly, all gathered gasped in amazement at his temerity at such a time.

He earned a slap for his boldness and his former master laughed darkly, "you only make things worse for yourself wretch. What has gotten into you? Last night you were eaten alive by guilt! Now you dare insult all of us here gathered? You are an utter fool, but at least your idiocy shall not become contagious. Begin."

"Wait!" came a desperate cry, "It is not too late!"

"You again!" snarled the leader, "Can you not leave the affairs of the living to those still in that condition? Be gone fell spirit. I need none of your lies."

Gauk ignored him and turned pleading eyes upon the gathered crowd. One of the grim looking men holding Brin drew a dagger and tried to kill again the annoying man he had killed only the previous morning, but the audience gasped as his blows went right through the apparition. Gauk shook his head and said to all who would listen, "the Master gives you one last chance to turn from your evil and seek His grace before judgment comes upon you! Do not die stained with such abominable sins!"

The lord laughed him to scorn and said, "any who want to join this fool can certainly get in line with his unfortunate friend here. I have heard enough. Ignore this prattling ghost and get on with it." The grim men exchanged a smile and moved once more towards their prisoner. Brin's eyes widened in terror, but suddenly everyone was driven to their knees in terror and awe.

A Great Unicorn stood in the midst of the dell and looked grimly upon the gathered crowd. He pleaded in a voice like all the tears in the world, "will none come to Me, even now?"

There was some muffled laughter and some very rude comments, but finally two men hustled to kneel before their Maker. The Master eyed them quizzically and said to the first, "you are not sorry for what you have done. You simply fear death or what comes after."

The man looked deep into His eyes, snarled, and fled back to his comrades, saying, "that should be enough!"

The Master shook His head sadly, "you must come to Me because you wish it, not because you fear something else. I cannot shield you from the fate you have chosen unless you accept Me as I am and repent of all your evil." He then turned a baleful eye upon the other man who knelt at His feet, saying, "you come seeking advantage or power when you should be humbling yourself before Me seeking mercy!"

The man smiled greasily, shrugged, and slunk back into the crowd with a whispered, "it was worth a try."

The Great Unicorn then turned His sad eyes upon Brin and said, "you would all be wise to act as this man and throw yourselves upon My mercy."

The crowd laughed and the tall man scoffed, "if that is your offer I want no part of it! I will not spend eternity with such miserable creatures as these. I am content in myself and need no weak and pathetic lord to whom I must bow."

Brin and Gauk shared a horrified look, but the Master only shook His head and said, "then to yourself I leave you and all your wretched followers. It is as beasts you have behaved and it is as beasts you shall face that which your deeds have earned."

The man laughed darkly and said, "we shall see who is the stronger. Destroy them all!"

Suddenly an ogre stood where his lordship had been threatening and the onrushing horde of men suddenly came to resemble a swarm of goblins. The ogre scratched his head in confusion as the goblins lost all interest in the Unicorn and started fighting with one another and the ogre. The mist darkened about them and they were lost from sight, but their horrible screams and cries rent the morning air and caused the hair to stand up on the back of Brin's neck. He and Gauk stood and followed the Master as He climbed out of the dell.

As the cacophony ceased, either with distance or from the demise of the orators none could say, but Brin stammered, "have they really become such horrible monsters?"

The Master shook His head sadly, "only in form, their minds remain their own but so far have they fallen that their reason is little different from that of the creatures they now resemble. They will destroy one another and none shall remain to again harm My dear children."

Brin wept, "but such was I!"

The Master nodded, "and you have turned from such ways and given yourself willingly to Me. I shall remember your transgressions no more and neither should you let yourself be eaten up by guilt over what has been. Remain faithful and you have nothing to fear, child. I have much for you to accomplish and you cannot do it in a state of despair. I have forgiven you, now you must forgive yourself."

Brin smiled weakly and flung his arms around the great neck and whispered, "thank you."

The Master smiled and said, "now you had best return to Astoria and this time actually learn what they have been trying to teach you."

Brin exchanged a sad look with Gauk and said, "I wish that I did not go alone."

The Master smiled, "I did not say you were to go alone."

A mortal unicorn came galloping out of the fog, bowed deeply before his Maker, and then greeted Gauk excitedly. He nosed Brin skeptically, snorted a sigh, and seemed satisfied, at which the others laughed. Brin gasped, "but he is dead!"

The Master laughed, "and what is death to me Who is Master of life and all beyond and before? Farewell my dear ones!" Suddenly He was gone, as was the mist. Brin and the fully restored Gauk shared an astonished and overjoyed smile, and then crawled aback the unicorn and set off for Astoria with a terrible story to tell. Naught remained to be seen of the strange battle in the dell.

Before a Fall

The Emperor, the tyrant King who had brought every known nation and people under his iron rule, watched in amusement as the soldier's spear finally pierced the breast of his unarmed foe. The prisoner slumped to the ground and lay still after nearly ten minutes of vain attempts to defend himself and avoid his pursuer. The Emperor was actually quite pleased, for usually such victims either went to their knees in terror or ran for their lives, either way ending quite tragically in a very short period of time. The victorious soldier turned from his victim to receive the adulation of the crowd and even notice from the Emperor himself. The Emperor smiled and clapped to reward the man for his valiant efforts. Such executions, either by soldiers or wild beasts in the arena called 'the Pit' by its supporters and detractors alike, were an everyday occurrence and helped to distract the disquiet populace from their uneasy thoughts of rebellion. It also served as a good reminder that any sort of rebellion would not be tolerated.

The last of the independent nations had fallen to the Empire's might and come into line as a tributary state; without the constant war, there was now little to unite and distract the common folk who resented their lack of freedom and the obscenely high taxes endured to keep the bloated Empire functioning. The Emperor had proposed this grisly pastime as a substitute for the once constant wars and also as a means of entertaining and cowing the aggrieved populace. Criminals, rebels, traitors, heretics, those who failed to pay their taxes, and those who fell afoul of anyone in power in the immense bureaucracy often ended as the victims of such a spectacle. It was an excellent way to vent the people's need for bloodlust and violence while disposing of political adversaries and other folk dangerous to the peace of the realm while encouraging others not to follow suit.

The Emperor turned from the triumphant soldier to one of his many advisors and toadies standing not far off, "who was that fellow? He seemed a bit braver than most and gave us more sport than is usual for such wretches. Why is he not in our service rather than dead in the arena?"

The nearest advisor said, "he was one of an obscure and quickly shrinking sect out of the north. They still cling to the old heresies and refuse to acknowledge you as the rightful Lord of Creation. He would have made an excellent addition to our illustrious soldiery but they are a stubborn and obstinate people and not even the threat of death or torture can make them submit to our ways. The only thing to do with them is toss them to the lions."

The Emperor was confused, "which of my subject states allows such heretics within its borders?"

The advisor said, "it is no tributary state my lord from whence these rebels come but a little city-state on the brink of forever so far from anywhere that they have escaped notice until now."

The Emperor smiled cruelly, "all must feel the weight of my yoke! You will send my army with all speed and take this obstinate little Burg. Raze the city to the ground and put all within to the sword unless they recant of their heathen ways. All the penitent are to be brought back and resettled in more civilized territory that we may keep an eye upon them to see if their conversion is in fact real. This will serve as a delightful example to any foolish enough to disobey me or foment ideas of rebellion. All nations and peoples must come under my rule or they shall cease to be!" The advisor bowed deeply and ran from his lord's presence to seek out the generals to impart their new orders immediately. The Emperor again turned his gaze to the downed man and imagined a whole city of such warriors on its knees before him.

"You want us to what?" demanded one haggard General as the advisor told them of the Emperor's plans.

The counselor continued, "you will send a thousand men to Astoria at once. Destroy the city and all within who will not listen to reason."

An aghast man, red-faced with anger, said, "you cannot be serious! We can barely maintain the peace as it is. We have a half dozen rebellions brewing at the moment and another dozen are waiting their chance. If we take that many men out of active service the whole Empire may collapse!"

The advisor scowled, "I am serious, deadly serious! You will do as you are told or you can explain your failure to the lions tomorrow in the Pit! You will also see that it is done swiftly and without weakening the Empire in the process else the failure is upon your own heads. The Emperor has spoken and thus will it be done!"

The six men refrained from making further comment but anger, frustration, and astonishment were plain upon their faces. God or not, the Emperor risked much in this little enterprise. He was swatting at mosquitoes when a horde of ravening wolves slavered within the ranks of his own citizenry ready to throw the Empire into chaos. The Brethren were certainly heretics and rebels, but they were a dwindling sect and too far from anywhere to cause problems. They were easily enough dealt with on an individual basis and never moved en masse. The local lords swiftly and severely dealt with any such infidels within their own bounds fearing to draw the Emperor's attention upon themselves. Within a generation they would be all but extinct, yet the Emperor was not content to let them die a natural death but would endanger the peace of the realm to destroy this last merry band of outlaws.

They feared the repercussions of such an impetuous act, but they feared for their own lives even more, so General Octova was dispatched with a thousand men to deal with the situation. Octova cared little for spiritual or philosophical matters; that they were heretics did not bother him. All he cared was that the Emperor had said they must be destroyed and so would he do. He was the least thoughtful and the most action prone of the Generals present that day in the capital so it was he that was sent on this errand. The others had risen in rank through years of dedicated and careful service whereas Octova had risen quickly in the ranks due to success in battle and several fortuitous incidents that had brought him to the attention of the powers that be. He was the perfect man for such a job.

He had heard the objections of the others, but the Emperor had not risen to his present position because he was a fool, therefore he must be aware of such circumstances and had made plans accordingly, even so, did he not claim some divine right for himself? No mere mortal would claim such if it was not true thus he must have foreseen that all would turn out as it should and no doubt had the power to see that it did. Whatever the reason the Emperor felt confident in this venture, Octova would certainly not be the man to dissuade him. He did not understand why these vagrant storytellers and vigilantes had suddenly come under the heel of the Emperor, but if he wanted them destroyed Octova would see to it. The other generals watched them ride away with a growing sense of dread and wondered if the Empire would survive while so many men, who were vitally needed elsewhere, were sent on this fool's errand to the end of forever. The people felt the lightening of the guard about them and those of a more rebellious tendency smiled to think that perhaps the time had come.

Astoria had grown much in the past fifty years. As one country after another fell to the burgeoning Empire, refugees had fled to this little outpost of civilization and freedom in hopes of a better life. Those who still believed in the Master also fled for their lives to the last place on Earth where such was yet allowed. As the Empire spread, so did its heresy that the Emperor was some sort of divine being sent to lead men out of the darkness of independence and into the glorious future of ultimate harmony. As such, all must worship said Emperor or be seen as heretics and rebels and suffer the consequences attendant thereunto. While the ranks of the Brethren swelled with the influx of refugees to Astoria, their job was made tenfold more difficult and their mortality rate quickly grew with the advance of the Empire. As the Empire became the norm as newly conquered people got used to the idea, the influx began to dwindle and within a generation ceased altogether and Astoria, the Master, and the Brethren were all but forgotten by most of the world's people. The servants of the Master still went abroad, but more often than not their voices went unheeded by an uninterested or terrified populace or were suddenly silenced for heresy. So far the Empire had ignored Astoria as too far away and insignificant to be dealt with but with the advent of peace within the realm, its eyes turned to this last obscure and independent country.

While the eyes of the Empire turned outward, turmoil began to brew within. The people were oppressed and abused and had lost all sense of dignity and meaning in their lives. They were restless and verging on desperate which was a perfect recipe for anarchy. With the voice of the Brethren all but silenced and the Emperor hated by most of his subjects, the time was ripe for rebellion. The Empire was vast and any weakening of the military strength in a certain area would be an ideal time to flex rebellious muscles. There were those with motives both idealistic and sinister who fed the fire of disquiet thoughts and slowly began to push for the conflagration to commence. While Astoria was concerned with its immediate survival, the rest if the world began to ponder the possibilities of a future without the Empire. The more sinister proponents of rebellion were more than happy to see the end of Astoria and also to be offered this perfect chance to feed the flames of chaos.

The advisors, generals, lords, and underlings of the Emperor also saw this as an opportune moment to test the strength of the Empire, perhaps if things did not go as planned one of their own might step up to claim the power that the disgraced Emperor might then be forced to lay down. What seemed a jovial outing or a mere farce to the power blinded Emperor, who thought himself undefeatable after accruing such power, might prove to be his downfall and then he and all with him would descend into utter chaos while the Nameless One, whom he denied, would sit in the shadows and laugh as he fell. There was far more at stake during this one small enterprise than any could yet see.

The sun had vanished but a pale glimmer of lighter blue on the horizon lingered to remind the Lady of Astoria that night was not yet fully upon her. Suddenly a great gust of wind from the west blew in clouds darker than any she had ever seen in the waking world. They covered the entire sky and all was black about her; lightning flashed and thunder roared in the distance and she knew that a maelstrom was on its way. She jolted awake and wondered what this dream might portend. It was still dark outside her windows and no lamp was lit, though she could see clearly enough to discern the accouterments of the little room. It took a moment for her to realize from whence the light had come, but suddenly she was on her knees before its Source.

The Master towered above her in her little bedchamber and she felt her eyes drawn into His. She looked up and He said, "these have been dark and difficult times in which I have set you to lead My people, but things shall grow darker before the dawn. Even now, the soldiers of the Empire march upon Astoria to destroy all within that refuse to deny Me. You will send fifty of your servants west to meet the oncoming thousand and fifty more shall wait by the cliffs upon the sea. Of those sent west, few shall return." She looked at Him then in horror that this perhaps might be the end of Astoria and the Brethren, but there was such peace in His presence that such idle thoughts quickly vanished and only determination to obey remained. She did not understand, and perhaps this was the end of all they held dear, but in the end what did it matter? The Master knew all and all things would be accomplished according to His will in the end. Their duty was simply to obey, whether they understood or not, they must still trust. She nodded her head in grim acceptance, He smiled and said, "fear not, for I shall not forsake My own." Then He was gone.

She stood, her head aching with the wonder of such revelations and quickly summoned her servant. The sleepy eyed Council of Six was quickly assembled and the Lady paced before them, telling all that the Master had revealed to her. One of the Teachers asked, "are we to abandon Astoria and flee elsewhere to safety?"

The Lady gave her a grim look and said, "the Master said nothing about fleeing the city. Where would we go? What would we do? How would the entire population of the city survive in the wilderness? We would simply be a slow moving and hungry target easily pursued and destroyed as we fled. We shall remain here and send forth those as the Master instructed."

Said one of the Warriors, "how are fifty to fight off a thousand? Of what use can our warriors be by the sea when the enemy shall certainly strike the city?"

The Lady shook her head, "I understand no more than you, but we must do as we have been instructed else all is lost. Perhaps all is lost anyway, the Master did not guarantee victory only that He would look after His own. We will trust in Him as ever we have and do exactly as he has instructed." She looked at her six advisors, each nodded grimly and she knew they would not lose heart in the burgeoning dark. They returned to their beds to await the dawn but sleep was long in coming, if it came at all.

Morning found the keep abuzz with rumor and speculation, which was swiftly cut short as the Lady assembled the entire population of the castle and then afterwards spoke to all the residents of Astoria. From the general population there came murmurs of fear but the Brethren remained firm in their trust in the Master and their resolve soon won over the other residents of the city. A few fled, not trusting either the Master or the Emperor but the rest chose to remain, come what may. Supplies were laid by for a siege. Folk from the outlying farms and villages were brought into the city or fled. Scouts and sentries were posted to alert everyone at the first sign of the enemy. The most important task however was to assemble those that would ride West to their doom or East to the sea. There were not enough of the Brethren within the city to meet the Master's quota but each day brought more and more of the Lady's scattered servants home and soon the number was met.

Within a week, both companies were ready to ride to their assigned positions. She paced before the assembled companies and said, "the future is uncertain and unquestionably grim for those of you riding West, but you each agreed to go and the Master shall certainly ride with us all. The rest of us shall abide here to see what shall come of this matter. I do not know the course of things, but know with a certainty that we have nothing to fear, no matter what comes of this incident. One way or another, all things shall be accomplished according to the Master's will. Farwell!" There was no cheering but all exchanged grim, though excited smiles and hasty farewells ere they rode off into the uneasy future. Those going east wondered how their presence in such a forgotten place might avail anyone and those going west knew with near certainty that this was their last ride in the mortal sphere, but with the unquestioning courage of their kind, they did not worry about the future or their impending doom, but trusted fully in their Maker.

Corik had only been numbered among the Brethren for three months and was uneasy as he rode alongside his Mentor, a Warrior with over a century's worth of experience called Byorn. Byorn glanced at his uneasy apprentice and asked, "having second thoughts?" They rode west and knew that their lifespan was probably counted in days but rode out nonetheless.

The boy smiled sheepishly, "I just never thought to die so young."

Byorn laughed grimly, "it is not too late to turn back. But I would not lose hope quite yet. Most of us are certainly doomed, but there is ever hope in the Master on both sides of eternity."

The boy sighed, "I agreed to this and will see it through. You are right, I should not despair as we are in His keeping regardless. Forgive my fear."

Byorn smiled gently, "fear is a natural part of life, but we must not let it prevent us doing what we must and certainly not let it overcome our trust in the Master. There is nothing to fear for those who trust in Him, but sometimes it is very easy to forget that. Even I struggle with that from time to time and I have been doing this much longer than you!"

The boy smiled nervously, "really?" Then Corik sighed, "I shall do my best, but I still do not look forward to what is to come."

Byorn laughed, "it is just another adventure my young friend, and what can be more exciting than to see what lies beyond death and this fallen mortal sphere?"

The boy smiled, "I never looked at it that way. I suppose we all must die eventually, it is a natural part of life and what have I to fear after?"

The man smiled and said, "nothing as long as you are faithful to the Master."

They rode on for several days as fast as their unicorns could run. Finally, they stopped in the midst of the road and knew they had come far enough. The company was divided into three parties and vanished into the woods upon either side of the road to await the coming army. Scouts were sent out to keep watch and finally the day of reckoning came. Before the enemy horsemen came into sight, the leader of the small band of Brethren rode up to Corik and said, "you will not engage in the fighting. Stay hidden in the woods and once all is settled, ride back to Astoria and tell the Lady all that happened here and what the enemy plans to do next."

The boy was aghast that he would not be allowed to join in the fighting after he had spent so long preparing himself to die in battle. He glanced helplessly at Byorn, who said, "perhaps you will not have to die this day after all? I have enjoyed our time together. Whatever happens, may the Master ride with you."

The boy sighed but said nothing and rode a little deeper into the woods that he might be hidden from casual sight yet still watch what was to come. His unicorn shared his consternation that they would not meet the enemy in battle this day, but both knew their duty and would do it accordingly. The invaders were not long in coming and were heard long before they could be seen. The Brethren remained hidden in the woods as the long file of horsemen passed, it was not until the last third of the column was passing that the Brethren broke cover and fell upon the horsemen. They came at them in three companies, one from each side and one from the rear. As soon as they broke cover, the unicorns revealed their true forms and chaos broke loose as the horses panicked and tried to flee.

The Brethren fought valiantly, as did their mounts, but in the end, even with the element of surprise and the chaos of the horses, the ambush was soon overcome and all the perpetrators lay dead or dying upon the road, but five times their number of enemy soldiers had suffered a similar fate. Corik watched helplessly as Byorn and the others plunged into the bucking and screaming mass of horses. He watched his mentor fight for a few moments before he took a sword in the chest, but as he fell, Byorn's eyes sought out his hidden apprentice and silently begged him to ride. The boy hardly held back the tears but turned his mount and rode as hard as he could, but he did not get far. Several of the enemy horsemen had been carried into the woods by their terrified mounts and now blocked the path Corik was taking.

His unicorn screamed a challenge and reared, revealing his glory and sending the exhausted horses into fresh spasms of terror, but their riders leapt from the saddles before they could be carried off again, bared their swords, and prepared to go down fighting. One of the enemy soldiers leapt onto the back of the rearing unicorn and seized the boy, holding a dagger to his throat. Cowed, the unicorn draped himself in darkness and eyed Corik's captors balefully. The man smirked and said, "that's a good pony, behave yourself and I might spare the kid. Try anything stupid and you will both die. Now get lost!"

Corik nodded grimly, the valiant creature screamed his frustration as he vanished into the woods. He could feel the faithful creature watching grimly from a distance and knew that he would stay as long as Corik lived which likely would not be long, but he dared not confront the men, for one of them at least must live to carry the message. He chafed at the terrible decision suddenly thrust upon him, but he would do what he must.

They emerged from the woods as the company was setting itself to rights. A great pyre had been built where Octova was preparing to burn his own dead while the Brethren, after being relieved of anything of use or value, were left to rot where they lay. The returning soldiers went directly to the General and presented their prize. He eyed the boy in surprise and said, "a traitor? A scout? How did this imp survive the suicidal attack of his elders? Tell me what plans your Lady has boy and I might spare your life, otherwise you will join the rest of your sorry comrades."

Octova eyed the carnage of the battle with grim pleasure. Corik's heart quailed within him. He did not want to die yet he could not betray his friends. Octova growled, "have you a tongue boy? I do not have time for this. Speak now or you shall be forever rendered speechless." The boy shivered and glanced at the blank and staring eyes of his late comrades, wondering if his own corpse would soon be littering the road. What was he to do? He did not want to die but did he dare betray all he had once believed in? Would he risk his soul to save his life? He swallowed hard, perhaps a quick death would not be so bad after all. He tried to remember Byorn's words but they gave him little comfort in such a moment. "Bind him," said Octova, "and toss him on the pyre with our own dead. Let us see if the fire can loosen his tongue?"

Corik went white, screamed for mercy, and would have fallen had not his captors held him firm. Perhaps a quick death was easy enough to face but to be burned alive? It was unthinkable! Certainly the Master must forgive him under the circumstances. He felt something rip within himself, a veritable rending of his heart. In the distance he heard his unicorn scream in heartrending grief. He had sworn the Oath and promised the Master to be faithful until death. He had sworn his very soul to this service, but the price was too much. He could not pay it. Tears stung his eyes as he went to his knees and heard himself say, "they flee by the sea. All Astoria has fled east to the sea. Go thence and you will find them."

Corik's eyes were large with shock and terror. That was not what he had intended to say! What had happened? Not only had he broken Oath but he had also unintentionally lied to his captors! "Finally," laughed Octova grimly, "we ride for the sea. Bind the wretch and leave him for the scavengers." The boy opened his mouth to protest but a swift strike from the man holding him sent him tumbling into darkness. Octova laughed all the more, "fool! To think we would reward a traitor with his life!" They finished seeing to their own casualties and turned east towards the sea. Corik was left bound hand and foot, to be preyed upon by the scavengers that would soon take advantage of the remnants of the battle.

He was alone in the darkness and it was a place more cold and empty than any tomb in the mortal world. Suddenly a light impinged upon his utter loneliness and the Master stood before him. Corik took a step back in mortal terror but though everything within him wanted to bend knee to the terrible being that towered over him, he stubbornly held his ground. Who was he to bow before the Master? Was he not his own man? Had he not proven himself such by denying Him to whom his Oath was sworn? He would not now grovel in terror before this creature whom all the rest of the world had also denied. Wrath sparkled on the surface of those eyes but agonizing sorrow, of Corik's own invention, filled their boundless depths.

This time he did fall to his knees, weeping in horror and sorrow and nearly screamed, "how can you have done such a thing? Why did you not protect your people? Why have you let me fall into darkness?"

The Master glanced about Himself and suddenly Corik could see the road littered with the dead. He said with quiet finality, "those you call dead are they that truly live. You have chosen of your own accord to abandon Me and join the ranks of the dead, though you yet draw breath. You are a corpse that has the ability to move. You have tasted of My blood and yet have forsaken Me and thus you have entered an eternal death from which there is no rescue."

Corik screamed in agony, "but why did you let this happen? Why did they all have to die?"

The Master said quietly, "and who are you to judge Me and My will? Have you the least idea of how the universe should function? They died to protect others and did not go unwillingly to their deaths. They knew there was something greater than themselves and that they are in My keeping come what may. Men have chosen to work evil and thus they suffer the consequences of their actions. These chose to die that others might live. In the end all will be set aright, but for now the world continues on in brokenness and sorrow until the appointed time. Each thinking creature has a choice to make and that choice will rule over their entire eternity. You have made your choice and now you must ever live with it. You thought to deny Me to gain rescue from My enemies, but even this circumstance I have used for the good of others. You have lied to Me and all others and now you will never be able to speak anything but lies."

"I hate you," said the boy, "I do not know why I ever wanted anything to do with you. I welcome my fate if only to spare me from you!"

The Master sighed and said, "you have condemned yourself and even so, I still love you. But you are lost to Me. We shall not speak again."

Suddenly Corik was alone again in the dark but it was not the dark of the starless heavens but simply of sleep. His head hurt fiercely but the pain in his heart was worse. What had he done? What was he to do? He came slowly to conscious awareness of himself and opened his eyes. It was evening and already the wreckage was alive with black, avian forms taking advantage of the free meal before them. His stomach turned at the thought that he too would suffer that fate. Suddenly he became aware of a great black raven with far too intelligent eyes perched upon his chest.

A wave of utter terror washed over him, he had faced the Master in His wrath and disappointment but here was utter evil. "Cast you out has he?" spoke the bird.

"No," said the boy who could not speak the truth.

The raven scoffed, "a lovely little curse that. Sadly I cannot reverse it quite yet. He is still the more powerful of the two of us but for how long?" The boy's eyes widened when he realized what this bird must be. The bird smiled darkly, "he will not have you, with your lying tongue mortal men will turn you out, what is left you? You are already mine regardless, but I have things that need doing and can make what remains of your life far more pleasant and satisfying than all your current prospects hold. I will give you power beyond imagining. Power enough to exact revenge upon all those who stand in your way. Well?" The boy smiled grimly, not trusting his tongue but the bird knew his answer. He croaked a laugh and disappeared into the darkening forest. The boy suddenly found himself loose from his bonds and followed into the murk of the woods, for the first time that day hope seemed to stir in his heart. But it was not the joyful hope of the Master but the dark and brooding eagerness of a vengeful heart.

Byorn took a sword in the chest, sought out Corik, and then fell into darkness. When he came to himself, it was to find a pair of enemy soldiers searching for anything of value secreted about his person. They saw him stir and the one said to the other, "he is alive!"

The other laughed, "not for long, look at him."

The first appraised the wounds that marred the stricken man and laughed grimly, "he does not deserve the mercy of swift death. His wounds will make an end of him soon enough if the scavengers do not."

They laughed together and went on to examine the next fallen Brother, leaving Byorn in a half conscious daze of pain and agony. The enemy soldiers finished their morbid tasks and made ready to ride. Suddenly a little company emerged from the woods and approached the General. They exchanged a few words and Byorn watched as best he could from his position. His heart sank when he recognized Corik but it nearly broke when he heard a unicorn scream in grief and saw the boy fall weeping. He heard some amused commentary among the soldiers and then to his astonishment, they turned towards the sea. What became of the boy, Byorn could not see from his position nor could he move in his current condition. The day was quickly failing and Byorn's strength with it. He welcomed the darkness that was gnawing at his vision; the pain was nearly unbearable and his heart was near to breaking over what had come of Corik. The avian scavengers had been growing more numerous with each passing hour and soon their numbers would fill the sky. So far Byorn had escaped their attention.

He heard the hoarse croaking of a raven and a voice he knew to be that of Corik. He turned his head in that direction and nearly fainted for the pain. He saw the raven and the boy vanish into the darkness and wondered what it might mean. He returned to the least painful position he had found and flinched to find the Master towering over him in the dark. The Great Unicorn nuzzled him gently and said, "I need one to ride to Astoria and tell what has happened here, but more tragically your apprentice has broken Oath and taken up with My Enemy. The world has never before seen nor ever after will they see such a horrid and powerful creature as he will become in service to the Dark One. You must follow after and make sure that his tyranny is of short duration. The army rides east to the sea and from thence shall never return."

Byorn's eyes filled with tears, "how can I kill my own apprentice?"

The Master shook His head gravely, "for he is no longer the boy you knew but shall become something altogether terrible. For the sake of all mortals you must do this thing though it tries you greatly." Byorn nodded weakly though tears still filled his eyes. The Master smiled gently and said, "never forget that I am ever with you My son. Rise and ride to Astoria with all haste."

Suddenly the Master was gone, but Byorn found himself whole and healed in mind and body. He stood weakly and wondered how he was to reach Astoria swiftly afoot, for his own unicorn had fallen with all the rest. A sound like a heart breaking drew his attention to something in the woods behind him. A vaguely equine shaped shadow stepped out of the darker shadows about him. It was Corik's former mount and a sadder sight Byorn had never seen. The Master had bidden him seek out the man that stood before him, but he could not quite bring himself to trust humans again, after his former master's betrayal it felt as if his heart had been ripped in two.

Byorn threw his arms around the great neck and wept into the mane, saying, "I know exactly how you feel in his betrayal, but ours is nothing to the sorrow the Master Himself must feel. Come, we had best be about the Master's business ere worse mischief comes of this." The great creature nodded grimly, allowed the grieving man to mount, and together they rode to Astoria to tell the tragic tale.

The army rode on and finally reached the sea. In confusion they stood upon the towering cliffs that dropped sharply to the sea many hundreds of feet below. How could the fools escape by water if this was what the coastline was like? Octova growled, "he lied to us! I was certain he had betrayed his foul master to save his own life but why risk it in a lie?" He never found out, for as he stood upon the brink of the precipice with the rest of his horsemen, fifty unicorns in all their splendor emerged from the woods behind them and drove the terror stricken mounts of the enemy into the sea with their riders yet upon their backs. The few survivors were easily chased down and none came back to tell the tale to the eager Emperor. As the days passed and no word came from Octova or his men, the uneasy thoughts and rebellious aspirations began to take shape and form. The Emperor's enemies plotted in dark corners and abandoned rooms and soon the entire realm would be up for grabs for the strongest taker.

Corik vanished into the deepest woods of the north and there made vows and carried out rituals darker and more horrible than mortal mind dares imagine. He clung to his new master as a drowning man clings to the wreckage of his ship. So his power and evil grew until he was no longer quite human and altogether something quite terrible. Finally he emerged from his dark exile, ready to strike at the heart of the Empire that was beginning to fray at the seams and rot in the middle.

Byorn had ridden back to Astoria and told his tragic tale and soon riders from the sea returned with what had happened upon the sea cliffs. It seemed Astoria had weathered one more storm, but the night was not yet past. Byorn ever wondered where Corik was and how he was to pursue him. He busied himself with the various tasks the Lady set him until one day he felt in his innermost being that the day had finally come when he must fulfill the Master's grim words. He bowed before the Lady and bade her farewell. She smiled sadly and bid him a safe and successful journey. For the sake of the world he knew he must succeed but his own heart ached to be the hand that dealt the fatal blow. Corik's former mount echoed his new rider's thoughts but they both knew it must be done. As they rode south, both felt a growing sense of dread and an imminent feeling of doom, though no one else with whom Byorn spoke seemed to feel anything of the sort. Finally they came to the capital and both knew they had found their quarry. In shape and feature it was a man, but in feeling it seemed evil incarnate. They followed at a distance and watched as Corik made his way through the crowded streets and towards the towering castle at the heart of the city.

He demanded entrance at the gates but the guards would not let him pass. He growled something under his breath, for a moment they stood rigid as tree trunks and then fell over either dead or fast asleep. Corik then made his way easily into the courtyard where more soldiers confronted him and suffered a similar fate. Soon word spread and all in his path either fled in panic or fell prone after confronting the horror. Byorn dismounted and bid farewell to the unicorn, who could not follow circumspectly into the heart of the castle. The creature made to protest but Byorn called him to task and bade him goodbye. He easily followed the horror that had been his apprentice into the heart of the castle. Finally, Corik made his way into the court where the Emperor and his attendants had been enjoying the afternoon. The attendants fled in terror before the coming of such a malicious thing but the Emperor would not be cowed. "Who are you?" demanded the Emperor, "be gone ere I fetch my guards."

Corik smiled darkly and laughed horribly in answer. The Emperor drew his sword and made a strangled gurgling sound as Corik easily ended the argument forever. He still could not speak truth but in his present form it mattered little what he said, for his powers could easily overcome all argument. He would take the Empire by the reins and make it into something truly worthy of his dark master. He tossed aside the crumpled form of the late Emperor and turned to find himself confronted by one brave and utterly foolish man. He started to see who it was. Byorn? He was dead! He saw him die! But then a cruel smile played across his lips, he would have revenge upon Byorn as well!

Byorn saw the confusion and then the cruel determination cross the face of his former apprentice and also realized the truth that this thing, whatever it was, was no longer the boy he had known. He said, "you will not succeed Corik, whatever strange powers you have gained from your alliance with evil. Do not do this."

Corik refrained from speaking, for his tongue was ever a betrayer and would only embarrass him. He smiled grimly and cast one dark spell after another upon his foe but all to no avail. He growled under his breath and drew his sword. Byorn could easily best him in a fight, but he had no intention of giving him that chance; Corik used his own blade to literally disarm his foe. Byorn screamed and clutched the stump of his severed limb but did not back down. He drew his dagger as Corik came closer, as he approached he seemed to grow until he was thrice the size of a normal man; his limbs elongated, as did his face, and hair sprang from every surface.

Byorn stared in astonishment at the wolf-like monstrosity that towered over him and whose cruel teeth would be upon him in a single leap. He saw his own death written in those cruel eyes but knew what must be done. He held the dagger before him in his remaining hand as the creature lunged. He felt the jaws close around his vulnerable throat and with a loud snap, it broke his neck. Corik threw aside the limp form of his victim and howled in delight as he licked the blood from his lips. But his howl of victory ended with coughing spasms and a bloody froth about his mouth. Only then did he realize that Byorn's dagger was driven deep into his chest. He shrank again to his normal size, gave one last piteous noise that might have been a sob, and collapsed before dissolving into an oily ooze upon the flagstones.

The Emperor's minions finally gained courage enough to look at the carnage in the little courtyard, but there was little time for pity or remorse as they saw their Emperor dead and the horror gone. Now was the time to grab for power. The Empire soon collapsed in a twenty sided civil war and it was nearly twenty years before the chaos abated and many nations emerged from the rubble.

### Doomed

"You are doomed," said Melph grimly, as they rode along one morning upon their journey. Zack laughed in amusement at his friend's strange humor on such a beautiful day. It was one of those fresh summer days that feels as if it is the first morning of the world and nothing could dampen the spirits of any sensible, living thing, but apparently Melph was either insensible or not living this fine morning. He continued, "you were doomed the moment you set eyes on HER!" Zack laughed warmly, remembering the wonderful woman his friend was referring to. His mind wandered back twenty years to their first class in Astoria. Melph and he had come to Astoria together from the same village, intent on learning whatever they could and finding their place in the wide world. In those days, they had been nearly inseparable but the inexorable press of time and varied interests gradually drew them apart. They had, of course, not been alone in that class and one of their classmates happened to be a rather shy but quite stunning young woman. It was not long and Zack found himself hopelessly in love with the girl, much to his friend's chagrin.

The only problem was that the girl wanted to join the Brethren from the start and the boys had vowed to each other that they would not be drawn into such nonsense, being the worldly and wise men they assumed themselves to be. But the girl piqued Zack's interest in the Brethren, as many a man suddenly finds himself fascinated by strange hobbies when pursuing his beloved. He still enjoyed her company, but he also found himself drawn deeper and deeper into the 'foolishness' he had promised his friend he would avoid. As these stories go, Zack of course eventually joined the Brethren and married the girl, much to Melph's continued disgust, but he had grown used to the idea in the last two decades, but he was still unsure either the girl or the Brethren had done his friend any favors. Things had progressed relatively smoothly until about a month ago when the Lady of Astoria, who at the time was nearing her three hundredth year, suddenly vanished, as usually happens to the Lady when she reaches that age and another was raised to replace her. The new Lady was what had Melph so concerned on such a lovely morning as her husband now rode beside him, not caring a whit for his own impending doom!

Said Melph, "why are you so unconcerned about all this? Your wife is the Lady of Astoria!"

Zack gave him a perplexed look and said, "that is fairly common knowledge but I see no reason for concern in it."

Continued Melph, "while you were so busy with all your official duties, I took the liberty of asking a few questions of your precious librarians pertaining to the history of men married to the venerable leader of the Brethren." Zack gave him a curious look but could not help smiling for all he was worth. Melph ignored his friend's mirth and continued, "of the three or four men recorded in such a position in your histories, not one of them survived longer than a year after his wife's sudden promotion. Do you not see what this means?"

Zack grinned in that annoying manner of his (at least to Melph's more cultured sensibilities) and laughed, "I do not see how it pertains to me. I may easily out live you by two hundred years or I could drop dead tomorrow for all I know. I will continue to serve the Master until He calls me home, whether that be today or centuries from now. I will not walk around in morbid anxiety wondering which breath shall be my last. I would ask that you do the same for both our sakes!"

Melph grumbled, "I was just trying to be helpful. At least she saw fit to get you out of Astoria for a time. This little adventure she has set us will be just like the old days, before female entanglements and moral enigmas ruined you!" Zack smiled to himself and tried to remember the 'good old days' but could not seem to recall enjoying the weary journey to Astoria as much as he had even the worst of his adventures with the Brethren. True, he was a Philosopher, and sometimes did not leave Astoria for years at a time and when he did leave it was not to have adventures such as the Messengers and Warriors faced on a daily basis, but he truly enjoyed every task the Lady had yet set him.

This little outing should be rather simple and certainly enjoyable with Melph for company and such lovely weather. An aged and childless lord, whose estates and holdings had dwindled to nothing over the course of his life, had written to the Lady saying that he had a dozen fine horses he wished to sell at a bargain price to the Brethren in gratitude for their kindness to him when he studied in Astoria as a boy. They were all the wealth remaining to him and he hoped to live quietly on the proceeds of the sale for the remainder of his days. He had lived wantonly and thus squandered his fortune but hoped his waning years would be more sensible and perhaps he might even exercise the wisdom the Brethren had tried so hard to inculcate into his young mind. Zack and Melph had been dispatched to visit the aging lord, inspect the horses, and if the bargain seemed sound, finish the deal and bring the animals back to Astoria. Zack was an expert in all things horsy and was often employed in teaching the Students horsemanship and its related disciplines. Melph was something of an independent tradesman who made his living acquiring specific things for specific people, or more often rulers or countries. The previous Lady had employed him on several occasions and the new Lady was not long in following suit. Between them, they made an excellent pair to represent the Lady in this matter.

Melph interrupted his friend's introspection and said, "why do you not just resign your Oath and follow me on my adventures? It would certainly be more interesting than teaching clueless children which end of a horse is which, day after day for the next two hundred years!"

Zack laughed, "I thought you said my days were numbered, besides, one does not so easily revoke one's Oath. I would rather die than forsake my calling. Besides, it would be a little difficult since I am married to another of the Brethren and we believe in neither divorce nor being married to one outside the order. I am happily unable to comply with your wishes." Melph grumbled under his breath but was starting to catch his friend's humor.

They traveled on for several more days, Melph began to worry less about Zack's longevity and spoke more about what he hoped to find at journey's end. Zack's usual good humor suddenly slipped from his face as it grew grim as death. He drew rein and Melph looked at him in wonder, "what is it? We are nearly there."

Zack nodded grimly and said, "do you smell smoke?"

Melph's wonder suddenly became deep concern, "yes, look!" He pointed in the direction they were heading, a great plume of smoke spiraled out of the trees before them. They urged their mounts quickly in the direction of the blaze. The horse fought his rider but the unicorn screamed his eagerness to discover the source of his master's unease.

It was a grim scene before them as they drew rein in the overgrown garden enclosed in a wall of crumbling stone. The great stone house before them smoked and occasionally a tongue of flame would shoot out like that of a snake or lizard. The collapsing stable was completely consumed by the flames. "This does not look promising," said Melph acerbically.

Zack ignored him and said, "you check the stable, I shall check the house."

Melph did not reply but dismounted and ran for the structure that would soon be lost to the inferno. Zack dashed to the house, darted in, and much more slowly withdrew, dragging the prone form of a man with him. He laid the sprawling form upon the weedy drive, splashed water on his face, and tried to revive him. The man suffered not only from the smoke but also from a ghastly wound in his side. Melph ran up and reported, "there is nothing in the stable except what looks to be a dead servant with wounds to match his master's."

Finally the old man roused from his faint and blinked in surprise to find himself face to face with a stranger when he assumed himself dead or worse. "Who are you?" gasped the old man.

Zack quickly replied, "we have come from Astoria at the behest of an aging lord in these parts."

The man laughed hoarsely but it became a spasm of pain and coughing as he said, "you have come too late my boy! I am all that is left of my once great house, which shall shortly cease from the earth. Perhaps it is a fitting end to the wanton life I have led."

Zack asked gently, "what happened? Are there others about that yet might be in danger? We found a murdered man in the stable."

The man groaned in pain and said, "bandits lad, bandits! They took my beloved horses, all I had left and hoped to bequeath to your Lady. There was only myself and poor Jacob, my last faithful servant and friend, about. He went to protect the livestock and you know how that ended. They ransacked the house but found nothing of value for there was certainly nothing left. They stabbed me and set the house afire with me still within. Why could I not have lived a better life that I would not be so ashamed here at its end?"

Zack said sadly, "you cannot live your life over but perhaps your death need not be in vain."

The man laughed with his remaining strength and gasped, "truly one of the Brethren I see! Fear not lad, your Master has finally won over my stubborn heart. I may not have much to show for my life but at least I do not fear death any longer..." He trailed off and his eyes glazed. Zack whispered a prayer under his breath.

While the old man had been talking, Melph stood and was slowly backing away from his friend and the moribund man. He whispered harshly as the man expired, "I do not think it wise to stay." And he dashed from sight with all speed. Zack looked around in wonder at the strange behavior of his friend when his unicorn alerted him to strangers approaching, many strangers.

He made to stand but he felt a sword at his throat and a man barked, "if you value your life scoundrel, stay where you are!" Zack froze and felt his sword and dagger being confiscated. The man commanded, "put your hands behind your back." Zack complied and mentally fought furiously with his unicorn to keep him from doing anything foolish. The creature screamed his displeasure but otherwise continued to act the part of a stupid horse. Melph was nowhere to be seen. The overgrown yard was filled with nearly two dozen men and their horses.

Zack's captor demanded, "what have you done?"

Zack said calmly, "I have done nothing save to hear the last words of a dying man."

"Who died by your hands, wretch!" scowled the man.

Zack sighed, "I did nothing but draw him out of the burning house, wounded as you see. It was bandits that set the house afire and murdered the inhabitants."

The man growled, "we shall see what the Brother says."

Zack brightened, "you have one of the Brethren in the area?"

The man sneered, "yes and he shall be most interested to hear your confession. A strict one for justice is he. Now come along!" He forced Zack to his feet and pushed him towards his waiting mount. As Zack awkwardly mounted, the man demanded, "where are the rest of your companions?"

Zack said, "there was but one other besides myself and he has committed no wrongs either."

The man smiled darkly, "we shall certainly see." He told off six of his men to chase down the fugitive and the rest rode back towards their village.

Zack hoped Melph would not do anything foolish but was unconcerned as to his own fate if one of the Brethren was truly in the village as the man had said. His unicorn was not so sure as he felt none of his kin within fifty miles of the isolated village. Zack sighed and wondered what strange adventure lay before him. They finally arrived in the village, which was in uproar as the men returned with their tale of murder and arson committed against his lordship. No matter that the man had become rather strange of late, he was still their rightful lord and no outlander had the right to impose such an ignominious end upon him. Zack was pulled from his perch in the saddle and forced to his knees before the imposing personage that emerged from the finest house in the village. All of the villagers followed suit and were soon bowing reverently before this esteemed man.

Zack's captor was the first on his feet and said with all respect, "my lord, we caught this man in the very act of murder even as our dear and late lord's estate burned round about him. His compatriot is fled but we hope he will soon be in our grasp. This heretic refuses to admit his acts even when his hands are red with innocent blood."

His lordship looked surprised for a moment as he looked over the hostage and said, "what is your tale then stranger if it is not murder?"

Zack stood, as there was no longer anyone forcing him to his knees, and said, "we came upon the burning house and I dashed inside to see if anyone required aid. I found a dying man with terrible wounds about his person. He declared that bandits had murdered him and despoiled his house and set it afire. He died in my arms even as your friends found me."

"Bandits, eh?" said the man curiously as he stroked his mustaches, "Well we shall see if our search for your missing companion turns up any bandits, else I am afraid your future looks grim."

Zack cocked his head and frowned a question, "I was told one of the Brethren was to be found hereabouts?"

The man laughed darkly, "it is to him you speak. Why?" Zack was about to say something about the man being a fraud when the man blurted, "do not tell me you claim such an allegiance? Fool! Do you not know I can tell my brothers at sight and know that every word which you have spoken is a lie? Lock him away until we can have a proper trial! Believe no word he says for he shall certainly try to claim allegiance to those which he knows nothing about." The grim villagers nodded, herded the prisoner towards one of the smaller houses, and pushed him into a dark room and locked the door behind him.

An hour later, a woman entered the little room, bringing with her a candle and a plate of food. A grim looking man followed close behind with an even grimmer looking stick in his hand. Two children peeped in at the door in terror and curiosity at such a creature in their house. Zack began to speak, which made the man raise his stick and the woman freeze in her steps, but Zack continued and said politely, "who is this man you call the Brother? What authority has he in the village?"

The woman looked nervously at the man, who nodded and motioned towards a little table and then towards the door. She nodded, placed the food and light on the table and vanished out the door with the children in tow. The man seated himself in a chair and lay the grim stick across his knees, as he said, "we are a quiet folk and prefer to be left alone, but we also hope our fellow men will come to trust in the Master as we. He is love you know, and abhors nothing but crimes against property and persons, yet even these he will forgive if we but ask him. In light of this I will speak with you in hopes that there yet might be hope for your wretched soul."

Zack gave him an intrigued look and the man continued, "the Brother was sent from Astoria, as are all such men, to guide us and protect us. He teaches of the Master and administers justice in the village and surrounding farms. Our lord, whom you murdered, was quite content with the arrangement until just lately, when his thinking became skewed with age or illness and he began to object to the Brother's presence. The Brother has been with us for nearly five years and is the best thing to happen to this village in living memory. He brought us out of our ignorance and superstition into true life!

Before the Brother, we had always believed the Master asked his children to live according to his laws and statutes, as well as trusting that his blood covered our innumerable sins if we would but accept him, but the Brother has taught us that there are no sins save those against property and your fellow men. One may live as one wishes as long as one does not injure his fellows or their property. The Master being Love as it were, this quite makes sense and even if we do sin against property or other men, he yet can redeem us if we are so willing. Now take my woman for example. Most folks elsewhere would be appalled that I had not married her though we have two children, but it is only fair that we each are able to seek happiness elsewhere if this relationship falls through.

We need to do what is best for ourselves and each other, which is what loving your neighbor is all about. You do not judge his behavior and he does not judge yours and we all get along. If your neighbor steals your cow, then the Brother settles the matter. We give a certain amount of our earnings to the Brother for his services and he uses some of that to help the less fortunate. It is a rather nice little system actually. Now you have only to admit your part in the murder and perhaps you can gain forgiveness and even redemption, if not I am afraid the Brother may have to be rather harsh with you. Make an example and all that."

Zack gaped, "what proof has this man shown that he is numbered among the Brethren?"

"None of that," laughed his host, "he said you would try something of the sort. But we will certainly take his side in the matter. Do not start preaching that the man is a heretic and his teaching false, that is what the old lord sounded like ere the end! We are content with our system and need none else. Now what of your confession?"

Zack shook his head, "I have nothing to confess! I have told the truth!"

"Well," said the man sadly, "the Brother will be in to speak with you shortly but I fear if you do not confess we will be forced to execute you for your crimes."

Zack gaped, "without an objective trial?"

The man sighed, "you will have your trial and no one is more objective than the Brother, but examples must be made in such cases if the offender will not bend his stubborn will and seek mercy. I would reconsider were I you!" The man stood, gave the prisoner a last, pleading look, and vanished from the room. Zack ignored his supper and wondered what the impending visit of this fraudulent brother might reveal.

Suddenly he heard a noise on the far side of the room and turned quickly to find the one window finally letting in the fading light of day as someone took off the heavy shutters barring it from the outside. Zack smiled to see Melph poking his head in the window and whispering, "you had best make a break for it! They have not yet seen me or posted a guard at this window but they are talking rather excitedly over the fate of a certain murderer on the morrow!"

Zack said quietly, "I must be a witness to these deluded folk!"

Melph growled, "you fool! You cannot fulfill my dire prediction so soon! These people will not hear you! You must either run, break Oath by confessing, or die for a crime you did not commit. You should hear some of the ideas they have for putting you to death! Now let us be gone!"

Zack shook his head sadly, "they need to hear the Truth, even if I die for it and no one believes a word I say. I cannot go."

Suddenly a commotion erupted at the front of the house, Melph shuttered the window and vanished as the door of the room was opened and the Brother entered, followed by a rather large and sinister looking henchman. Zack remained seated and the man smiled at his insolence, saying, "you have courage for a heretic! I take it you are truly one of the Brethren? Who else would be so stubborn? You know what faces you on the morrow if you do not confess. I know quite well you did nothing wrong but my followers do not know that and neither shall they know that I am truly the one behind it. That old fool finally decided to see the light after all his years of profligacy and was on the verge of upsetting my dear followers thus he must be got rid of. It is sheer delight that you happened upon the scene and have taken the blame and my bandits have gotten away scot-free. It has been a long time since we have had a decent example made around here. It will be amusing to watch you die, as I am sure you will not forsake your precious Master?"

Zack nodded grimly and the man continued, "I only hope we catch your compatriot. Is he also of the Brethren?"

Zack shook his head and said, "he fled at the first sign of danger."

The man grinned in mad delight, "and you stay in hopes of convincing my poor deluded followers of your Truth?" His smile deepened with malice, as he said, "that would never do. I give you one last chance to turn to me for help. Forsake your Master and save your life!" Zack's reply was a stern look. The man laughed, "so be it. Let this be a prelude to what tomorrow will bring. And know that your hope is a futile one, as you will never say anything to anyone again."

He motioned to his minion, who approached the prisoner, who was now on his feet and backing to the furthest corner of the room but there was nowhere else to go. Sounds of a scuffle and a muffled scream that died away into incomprehensible groanings were heard by the master of the house, who quickly dashed from the door where he had been listening. The Brother and his minion emerged, the latter clutching a bloody dagger and what the horrified host soon recognized as the prisoner's tongue. Laughed the Brother, "he will no longer spout heresy in my presence. He may yet confess on the morrow, else he knows what awaits him. See to his comfort and security until the trial." He laughed as they vanished from the house.

The host dashed into the makeshift cell and found the man seated upon the bed, clutching at his mouth. The host stuttered, "see what comes of crossing the Brother? Worse will come of it unless you confess!"

There came another clatter at the window and Melph appeared once more. He shook his head grimly and said, "you will be witnessing to no one now, my friend! Curse your stubbornness, now let us be gone!"

Zack eyed his host, who only gaped at the strange man, and finally nodded in resignation, but before he could act, Melph yelped and vanished from sight and the vile henchman looked in the window and growled, "we caught your friend!"

The window was secured and the minion vanished with his prisoner. Zack's eyes were wide, but not at the capture of his friend nor with the pain, but with wonder. His host's eyes suddenly became even wider, as the captive spoke in awe, "I have been healed! I can speak! Did you overhear what your so-called Brother said of his part in the murder of your lord?"

The man gaped, "how?"

Zack smiled, "the Master has His reasons. Come!"

The man blurted out, "I heard everything! Can it be true? Is it all a lie?"

Zack asked, "what has your conscience always told you?"

The man looked dejectedly at the floor and said, "that I was living a lie. The Brother was constantly reassuring us that we might live as we choose but ever our consciences smote us. I never felt such constant remorse under the old ways! What the Brother has just spoken only confirms what my heart has always known. What am I to do?"

Zack said, "I must go after those bandits. They are the allies of this rogue Brother and if I produce the true thieves, my friend and I will no longer be accused of this crime and perhaps your deluded village might actually listen to the Truth."

The man smiled sadly, "I doubt it, most will side with the Brother regardless, they like what he says too much. It is much easier to believe that the Master is all Love and not Just or Righteous."

Said Zack, "yet He is also merciful and gracious. He will take you back."

The man shook his head, "I am not so sure my comrades will want Him back. They like their justified hedonism. Even if you can find these scoundrels and get a full confession I fear you will still be in very grave danger."

Zack nodded grimly, "so be it but it must be attempted."

The man asked, "how will you find them and confront them alone?"

Zack smiled, "my unicorn has tracked them and tells me they are very nearly incapacitated with drink. It will not be difficult."

The man gaped, "are there truly such things as unicorns? Oh fool that I have been to believe the Brother! You are truly one of the Brethren." The man smiled, "then I will let you go, for I can no longer dwell under the rule of such a man and may the Master have mercy upon me!" He grinned ruefully, "to think I had tried proselytizing you!"

Zack smiled, "and you did a fair job of it, even if your theology was a tad askew." The man made sure there was no one watching the house and then helped his erstwhile prisoner vanish into the night.

Melph was taken to the Brother's great house where he met his Greatness himself. Once they were alone save for the horrible henchman, the Brother began, "are you willing to confess? You saw what came of your friend's stubbornness. You need not share his fate."

Growled Melph, "I suppose it is his stubbornness that got me into this mess. I shall humiliate myself but it is not a fate worse than death. What must I do?" The Brother smiled and began to preach to his new acolyte.

Thanks to the scouting foray of the unicorn (who had nothing else to do while his master was incarcerated) the drunken scoundrels were easily captured. Zack rode into their midst with his wondrous mount revealing his true form and they were so drunk and overawed that they became as docile as kittens. He herded his captives back towards the village and came with the dawn, just as the stir began that the prisoner had escaped. The unicorn made the villagers uneasy, as did the bandits. What was going on? The Brother wasted no time in storming up to the yet mounted man and demanding, "what is this?"

Zack smiled, and to the Brother's astonishment, said, "your murderers and thieves. Release my friend and tell these people that you have lied to them all these years."

"How is it you speak?" said the awed Brother.

Zack smiled, "the Master had mercy, but more to the point, a use for my tongue. Now release your hold on these folk."

The Brother turned to his people and asked, "well? Who will you believe? This scoundrel or your beloved leader?"

Zack's former host spoke up, "I heard the Brother proclaim last night that he had plotted our lord's murder and was only too happy to blame it on these men."

Melph spoke, "I, like a fool, lost faith and was ready to confess to a deed I did not do to save my life! This man is a liar and a murderer; my friend speaks the truth."

The villagers began to murmur and mumble amongst themselves. They did not like being deceived but neither did they like the idea of returning to their old ways after so many years of living as they pleased. The Brother sensed their disquiet and said grimly, "you had best choose quickly. Will you choose me or these conspiratorial heretics?"

Finally one brave man spoke up, "I do not like this fool traipsing in here and telling us that the way we are living is wrong! If his precious Master really loved us would he not let us live as we pleased?"

Zack asked, "is a parent unloving when they reprimand a child for doing some wrong or do not allow the child to always do exactly as he pleases? The Master is most concerned about your soul and the growth thereof, sometimes we must do those things which we must rather than what we wish. It is the only way to grow."

The crowd began to murmur, they did not like being preached at by one they thought a murderer only the day before. Melph and the repentant villager had edged closer to Zack, who had slid from his unicorn's back to address the Brother. Melph whispered, "this is not looking good."

Zack nodded grimly, "it will take a miracle to turn the wrath seething within the villagers' hearts and minds. You two may have earned yourselves an untimely death."

Melph laughed grimly, "I told you, you were doomed, but at least I can say I am proud to die alongside you and at last I understand why you are willing to die for such a cause. My one regret is not coming to this conclusion sooner."

Zack shared an enthusiastic smile with his friend and the villager said, "at least I saw the light before the onset of night. I am proud to die beside you my friends."

"And who said you must die?" asked the Master, as He stood before them in all His radiance. The three men and the unicorn were suddenly on their knees before Him and trembling with awe and joy. He smiled at their stunned expressions after such a rescue and said, "you did require a miracle did you not?" The whole world seemed to dance for joy with His mirth and He continued, "now you had best return to Astoria and see what the Lady would do about this heretical village. Your sudden disappearance will cause quite a few hearts to reconsider what you have said and they will require your wisdom in the coming days. As for the master heretic and his henchmen, they must face justice for their crimes. Farewell!"

Suddenly He was gone and they found themselves on a hill overlooking a city that Zack was pleased to recognize as home. They rode quickly to the Keep and reported their strange ordeal to the Lady. By the time she sent her servants to the distant village, the Brother and his bandits were fled but the villagers were lost in confusion and conflict and finally began to listen to what they had long denied as Truth. The Brother and his lot were finally captured in their continued attempts at banditry and found justice at last. Zack, much to Melph's surprise and great joy, lived at least a decade longer than expected and for all I know might be living still.

### Endures All Things

The world was aflame with autumn and the horses seemed able to fly that day. They chased through valleys full of yellowed grass and glades afire in crimson and gold. The haunting song of geese overhead and the chill in the wind added to the vibrancy of the day. As the sun withdrew amid splendid clouds of scarlet and gold, the merry pair made their slow way home. Selendra nearly glowed with joy and exhilaration and Ian was quietly ecstatic. Ian had been accompanying Selendra on rides since she was old enough to go alone. She was the only child of a once great lord and he would not hear of her riding out alone. Ian was one of the stable boys, the son of a late groom and a housemaid.

At first she had been indignant at the thought of not being allowed out in the world alone, but Ian proved to be such a good companion that soon she quit complaining, lest her father decide one of the guards must accompany her instead. He was two years older than she, quiet, thoughtful, and never one to make mischief. When she wanted company he was a good conversationalist and when she wanted to be alone, he was so silent and unobtrusive that he might have been her shadow. They were the dearest of friends, though Selendra dared not let her father know how much she cared for the boy or she would be escorted by the oldest and grouchiest of her father's soldiers and the boy would be turned out of the house permanently.

Ian greatly admired Selendra, but also knew that what both of them desired above all else could never be. She was the heir of what remained of her father's estate and he hoped to improve his dwindling lot by marrying his daughter well. And it seemed such a match was imminent. The neighboring lord, who had already engulfed some of Lord Sendric's holdings, had a son he very much wished wed to Selendra that thereby he might consume what little remained to her aged father. Jorsh was a big, strong, and not very bright young man who was quite proud of his physical bearing and wealthy father. He had often glimpsed the girl riding abroad upon a morning and liked what he saw. The two lords agreed and the match was made, much to Jorsh's delight and Selendra's dismay.

Ian's heart sank, he knew he could not woo Selendra, but knowing her matched with such an unworthy fellow nearly broke his heart. This bright, lively girl would soon be crushed into a small, pitiable creature under such an oppressive master; she would wither away without hope or joy though once both had flourished within her. As the wedding day approached, Jorsh spent most of his free hours calling upon Selendra. He had often seen the innocuous little stable boy accompanying her on her rides, but it was not until he became something of an inmate at the house that he began to notice her regard for the ridiculous servant. Jorsh also began to see how little the boy admired himself and how much the boy regarded his mistress. Something must be done about the little weasel ere the wedding; Jorsh would brook no competition, even from the lowliest of men. With his luck, his new wife would demand that the creature remain a part of the household and that he could not bear! No, something must be done now and done in such a way that it did not cast any shadow of doubt upon Jorsh.

Ian did not approve of Jorsh, but there were many amongst Sendric's household that toadied up to him, hoping to gain a good standing with their impending new master. Several of these were willing to say and do just about anything to gain Jorsh's favor. One night as he was leaving, Jorsh called aside one of the grooms and a young guard and asked after his young nemesis. The groom snorted, "him? He ain't nothing special. He does his job well enough and takes care of his mama. Besides mooning after the Mistress, he ain't a bad sort."

The soldier scoffed, "he makes the rest of us look bad. Never causes problems or slacks off, does that one. He may be lovesick over the girl but he never lets it get in the way of his duties or lets on to the master."

Jorsh asked, "so there is nothing I could use to discredit the rascal? Nothing to send him away in disgrace?"

The groom shook his head, "he's been too good a servant for too many years. Even if we contrived something none would believe it. Besides, the mistress would speak for him, as would half the staff."

Smirked the soldier, "if you want him out of the way just leave that to us."

Jorsh smiled darkly, "just make sure this does not come back to haunt me and I will make it well worth your while when all is said and done." The three shared a silent laugh and then vanished into the night about their various tasks.

The next evening, the groom sidled up to Ian and asked, "do ya want to run over to the inn tonight?" Ian gave him a strange look, this man had never been particularly friendly before and the man must know he had never set foot inside an ale house. The man continued as if reading his thoughts, "I know you don't usually go in for that sort of thing but I heard one of the Brethren would be there and thought you might like to come with."

The boy smiled and said, "that is quite another matter. I would be quite delighted to accompany you once I finish my chores."

The groom smiled darkly, "I very much look forward to it."

Ian finished his chores, found his mother in their room, and told her of his anticipated adventure. She said thoughtfully, "it is a worthy cause, just be careful, for this man you are going with is not exactly a man to be trusted, but perhaps this night will do him good." He kissed her goodbye and ran to find his companion, eager for a night abroad.

"My mother thinks this is a wonderful opportunity," said the boy as they walked along in the darkness.

Said the groom in surprise, "who else did you tell about this little excursion?"

Ian said confusedly, "no one. Why the concern?"

The groom relaxed, "I just didn't want the whole house knowing I might be turning soft, that's all." The boy nodded, thinking he understood. That was his last thought before he felt a ferocious pain to the back of his head and then lay sprawled upon the road. The groom exchanged a grin with the soldier there in the dark as they stood over the prone form of their victim. "Now what?" asked the groom, "His mother knows where he was going but no one else."

Said the soldier, "she will definitely make a fuss when her son does not return, especially if she finds out your little lie about one of the Brethren being about. What should we do with him?"

Replied the groom, "I don't really want to kill him, but we can't hold him prisoner without risking discovery and I doubt he would be reasonable enough to leave and never come back. I don't see as we have any choice."

The soldier smiled darkly, "it will serve the little rat right for making us look bad all these years and will also get us in good standing with our new master. It is not like anyone but his mother will miss him after all. Maybe the mistress but this should just drive her closer to her new lord in her grief."

The groom said reluctantly, "you must be right but how should we go about it?"

The soldier said, "it will need to look like you were both overcome by brigands on the highway. That means I will have to rough you up a bit so you don't look guilty and then the boy will need to die by some violent injury common to robbers."

The groom snarled, "you will not touch me!"

The soldier laughed darkly, "and just how are you going to explain to everyone how the boy died while in your keeping?"

The groom shrugged, "can't we just toss him off the bridge and tell everyone he stumbled in the dark?"

The soldier raised his club, "no one would believe that."

The groom looked at his coconspirator in horror, as he approached with his weapon raised, and screamed as he fled, "I want no part in this!" The soldier snarled and dashed after his prey lest he betray them both.

Ian raised a hand to his head and groaned once he was sure the villains were well out of earshot. The blow had stunned him but he had caught the entire conversation, especially the part about their new master. He shuddered to think what would come of Selendra if she married such a man as this! He crept into the bushes along the road, concealed himself as best he could, and then lapsed into an uneasy sleep. As dawn was breaking, he was wakened by muttered cursing coming along the road. It was the soldier looking for his victim but having as little luck in finding the fool as he had in chasing down the groom the previous night. Suddenly there came the sound of hooves upon the road and the frustrated soldier vanished into the bushes so as not to be seen. He watched from his hiding place and seeing that it was Jorsh, he leapt from concealment and waved for the man to stop. The young lord was far from pleased at this interruption in his jaunt to see his beloved, but recognizing the fellow he had no choice but to stop.

"What is it?" scowled the lord as he slid from his saddle. The soldier stuttered out his tale. "You lost them both?" raged the man, "What if word of this reaches the wrong ears? You are less than worthless!" But the soldier did not hear the last of the words directed at him, for he lay dead at Jorsh's feet. The man smiled down mirthlessly at his handiwork, cleaned his sword on the fool's cloak, and quickly hid the evidence in the bushes from whence he had sprung.

Ian shivered as the man mounted his horse and continued on his way. There was no way he could go home with that killer awaiting his return, for he would likely end as the soldier had. But neither could he let Selendra and her father, not to mention the entire household including his own dear mother, fall into the hands of such a villain. But what to do? Who would believe his accusation that Jorsh was a murderer? No one at home would believe him save his mother and that was no help. He could take it to the Guards or the King but they would not believe him either. Then he remembered his errand of the previous night. The Brethren were renowned for their ability to sense when someone was lying. There might not be a Brother at the inn but the King certainly had an Advisor from Astoria. The boy crept from his hiding place, swayed slightly as he stood, and set off to seek an audience with the King's Advisor.

Ian did not take into account his head injury or his recent lack of adequate sleep, water, and food. Less than an hour into his journey he fainted upon the way. A farmer hauling a load of apples into town noticed the boy lying by the wayside and drew up his team. He turned the boy over and Ian stirred with the man's touch, groaning as he did so. The boy smiled ruefully at his rescuer but then noticed the wagon and asked, "could you give me a lift into town sir? I have a dire errand but fear myself in no condition to carry out my task."

The man studied the boy carefully and said, "you look like you have had quite a night lad, but you seem an honest sort. Get up in the wagon, help yourself to the apples, and I will get you into town quick as I can." The boy smiled thankfully and allowed the farmer to help him into the wagonbed, where he was soon quite comfortable and found the juicy fruit reviving to his spirits.

They reached the capital city by midafternoon, the boy thanked his savior enthusiastically and immediately set off towards the castle that he might seek an audience before the day was out. The farmer watched him go, wondering what was so important but shrugged it off and turned back to the business at hand. The boy was very nearly to the castle gates when an arm shot out from an alleyway, grabbed him roughly by the shoulder, and pulled him into the grim confines of the alley. He turned around, ready to run or fight but was surprised to find the groom from the previous night. "What are you doing?" demanded the groom.

"I am going to the King's Advisor from Astoria, for I fear none else will believe me," said Ian boldly.

The groom snarled, "that would be a very unwise thing to do."

Ian finally noticed the dagger the man held in his hand and the boy stuttered out, "do you not know what happened to your comrade?"

The groom frowned, "what are you talking about?"

Ian quickly told his tale, much to the astonishment of the groom, and finished with, "we must stop Jorsh from marrying Selendra."

The groom shrugged, "what is that to me? He will kill us both if ever he sees us and I have no intention of ever letting that happen. And neither do I plan on letting you tell the King, for that will only result in my arrest for assault and attempted murder."

Ian said desperately, "you were reluctant to kill me last night and for that I thank you. What will it avail you now? Jorsh is the main villain here and he must be stopped. If murder is your game, then know I will not die quietly. You will bring doom down upon yourself all the sooner."

The groom snarled, "very well, I shall use what time I have to disappear, but know if ever we meet again you shall rue this day."

Ian nodded and dashed from the alley lest the man change his mind and pursue, but it seemed he was intent on flying as fast and as far as he could ere word got out of his actions the previous night. The boy ran up to the guards at the castle gates and begged an audience with the King's Advisor from Astoria. The guards eyed the dirty and exhausted boy, barely containing their mirth that such a one would demand an audience with any related to the royal court. They shook their heads and told the boy to go about his business ere he ended in the dungeons for bothering them.

Ian cried desperately, "but it is a matter of life and death! There has been murder done and the villain goes about free!"

The guards turned a deaf ear and one was about to teach the child a lesson with the blunt end of his spear, when a voice said, "let the boy pass. I shall gladly hear him." The guards turned in surprise to see the very man the boy sought standing in the courtyard and watching the scene.

The guards growled, "very well but see that he comes to no mischief or on your head be it." The Brother bowed his acceptance and motioned for the boy to follow to a quiet corner of the courtyard.

"Now what is all this about murder and villains lad?" asked the man patiently.

The boy said through his awe at being in the presence of such a legendary personage, "this very morning I watched a young lord kill a man in cold blood and hide the crime under the bushes along the road. This very man plans to wed my Lord's daughter in only a few days."

The man felt the truth in the boy's words and asked, "why did you bring this to me and not to your master or the Guard?"

The boy said quietly, "who would believe me? I am but the least of the servants in the house of the least of the Lords in the realm. He is the son of one of the greatest lords of the realm! I knew you would hear the truth and know what to do about it."

The man nodded, "a wise course of action. I will take this immediately to the King, as it involves his lords, and then I think we shall soon be paying your master a visit."

The boy grinned but was dumbfounded when the Brother said he would be explaining the whole thing to the King himself. His Majesty was not pleased to be interrupted at supper, but it seemed a matter of great import, so he allowed the importunity. The King looked agape at the boy and asked of his Advisor, "is this the truth?"

The Brother nodded, "it is Highness. What would you have done about it?"

The King sighed, "this cannot be allowed to go unpunished yet it involves one of my most powerful lords. You must let the youth incriminate himself and limit the damage to the rest of my subjects."

The Brother bowed and said, "we shall leave immediately upon the morrow my Lord. Tonight the boy needs a good meal and a sound sleep."

After the aforementioned refreshment, Ian felt quite ready for an adventure, especially one that involved rescuing a lady in distress. It was quite an adventure already to encounter one of the Brethren, to stand before a King, to sleep in a castle, and now to ride a unicorn! They reached the now miniscule estates of Lord Sendric without incident and easily gained an entrance, for the Lord was always eager to meet with anyone associated with the King.

Just as they were dismounting, Jorsh came round the corner of the house with Selendra on his arm; she did not seem overly pleased with his attentions but accepted them for her father thought she must. He glimpsed the boy and stopped suddenly, thrusting the lady aside and reaching for his sword. Hate and anger roiled in his eyes as he raised the weapon and charged the boy, heedless of all else about him. Ian's eyes were large as the blade was blocked mere inches from his head by the Brother's blade. Seeing himself incriminated, Jorsh lashed out with everything that was in him like a cornered wolf, knowing it was hopeless but determined to kill as many of his foes as he could ere his own demise. But the Brother was too skilled for the boy, who soon lay clutching his wounded shoulder and staring daggers at man and boy both, snarling, "my father will have both your heads for this!"

Lord Sendric came running out of the house from whence his terrified daughter had fetched him and he demanded of the sword wielding stranger, "what is the meaning of this?"

The Brother collected Jorsh's sword and put away his own blade, saying, "this lad witnessed a murder yesterday morning and very nearly had his own throat cut the night previous to that. The perpetrator of the whole ugly business went mad at sight of him and forced me to defend the boy as well as myself."

The old man gasped, "can this be true? Would I unite my daughter to such a scoundrel?"

Sneered Jorsh as he struggled to his feet, "it is quite true and your daughter will still be my wife! Go to my father and the King! We shall yet see justice done."

The Brother shook his head, "it was the King that sent me."

The old lord sat down hard and said, "what am I to do? Is my house to fall so utterly into ruin?"

Said the Brother with a smile, for he had been watching Ian and Selendra while the discussion had been going on, "why not allow your daughter to marry the man of her choosing? Perhaps there is yet hope for your crumbling estate if she chooses a man of wisdom, ingenuity, and valor."

Sendric looked up hopefully and asked, "and where is such a man to be found?"

The Brother smiled down at the boy and said, "the very lad who risked so much to save your daughter from ruin."

The old lord gasped, "a stable boy?!"

The Brother laughed, "I think the younger set have no such qualms. I think the quality of the person and not of the pedigree should count for something, but the choice is yours my Lord."

The old man studied the boy carefully and then said cautiously, "perhaps."

"No!" shrieked Jorsh, "I will not lose my place to a skulking peasant!" He had lost his sword but still possessed a dagger, which he drew forth and leapt towards his formerly beloved, but Ian dashed between them without a thought for himself. The Brother's sword flashed in the sun as he drew it forth to ward off the villain but he was too late. Even as Jorsh fell pierced through the heart by the Brother's blade, Ian lay just as lifeless with the dagger buried in his own chest.

"No!" wept Selendra as she fell into her father's arms, sobbing in grief. The Brother shook his head sadly at the wreck of two young lives.

Ian's mother had come out of the house and watched silently; she nearly collapsed but one of the other maids held her as she grieved for her lost son. Collecting herself somewhat, she cautiously approached her mistress and said through her tears, "he loved you my dear. More than he loved even himself or his own dear mother. Now we must go on living without him, but let us live in such a way so as not to make his sacrifice vain."

Selendra smiled through her tears, embraced the weeping woman and together they found solace in their grief. Her father was aghast at the very idea of her marrying a peasant. He was dumbfounded when she said she was going to join the Brethren. Selendra was even more surprised when Ian's mother said she thought she might do so as well. But the boy's courage had inspired such feelings within them that they could not be satisfied with less, and following his example, they abandoned everything that others might discover what it is to truly live.

Friends of Old

Kenin's heart trembled within him, more out of dread and guilt than for the excitement of an illicit night abroad. His hedonism was not as wonderful as he thought it must be only that morning when his friends had suggested this evening adventure; it would be much more enjoyable if his conscience did not constantly torment him with its incessant complaints. He sighed, not enjoying this evening in the least. They had snuck away from Astoria and currently inhabited the inn at Waymeet, long after Students were expected to be in bed; even for such a seemingly small infraction, Kenin was in an agony of distress over his ill-conduct.

Had not the Lady given him permission to take his Oath not three days before? And here he was sneaking out of the city, betraying her trust, and for what? To experience the joys of rebellion before he committed to a life of asceticism? Or so his friends had gaily spoken to convince him to come along on this misadventure. All he could do was sit there and rue that he had ever listened to their folly and beg the Lady's forgiveness once he returned to the city, if ever he overcame his shame and fear and gained courage enough to go back.

"You are a very dismal companion tonight Kenin," said Wilim, who himself had spoken only thrice in the last hour.

Tell laughed nervously, "this has turned out to be a rather dreary adventure. Kenin is tormented with guilt and we also are ill at ease and for what? A half empty inn with nothing at all interesting going on? Bah! We had best return to the city and go to bed for all the excitement around here."

Kenin had jumped to his feet at the first sign that his friends were tiring of their little stint of rebellion but they were not so swift to follow suit. They were quickly on their feet and grasping at their sword hilts however when they heard the door bang open and slam shut just as quickly; Kenin's companions were just as antsy as himself, just not so obvious in showing it. They stared in amazement at the man who had invaded the hitherto silent inn. He was a messenger or a soldier by the look of him, but it was the arrow protruding from his side and the bloodstain on his tunic that truly amazed the three young men. The man leaned against the door as if holding it shut against his pursuers or perhaps because it was all that held him upright. For all his physical weakness and exhaustion, for he was breathing hard as if he had been in great haste, he surveyed the room with the eye and cool of a professional soldier and quickly took in every person and thing in the common room. His eyes fell on the three boys with half drawn swords.

He gasped out, "have you horses?" The boys nodded in silent confusion. "Are you trustworthy?" continued he.

Kenin spoke haltingly, "it depends upon the cause sir. We shall do nothing to undermine the safety and rights of others nor defy the Laws of the Master."

The man smiled, "I have not stumbled upon one of the Brethren have I?"

Kenin blushed crimson at this reminder of his recent failings and said, "nay sir, only one who aspires to such a calling."

The messenger nodded thoughtfully, "it will do. I have a message that must reach my master, the Lord Arvin in Teradok, the safety and security of his life, lands, and people may well depend upon it but alas my horse is spent and I am wounded. Can I ask that you carry this message to him though it risks your life? The men who wounded me will not stop until they have the message or are themselves destroyed."

Kenin gaped but said, "I am but a boy, but I will do this thing if it is as important as you say, even if it cost me my life."

The courier nodded, "then you had best get going, for my enemies will not be long in pursuit. I will hold them here but they will not be delayed long. May the Master ride with you, that is your preferred farewell is it not? I also beg all here to flee the inn lest they become entangled in such schemes!" At his words, a general tumult arose among the rest of the inn patrons and they were not long in fleeing the scene, all save Kenin's friends, who stood with wide eyes and open mouths.

Finally Tell said, "I shall accompany you. At last a real adventure, and if we are successful I am sure we will have made our fortunes!"

Wilim grinned, "Astoria has grown dull of late and I cannot have the two of you having adventures without me." The messenger handed over the precious missive and hastened them on.

They ran to the stable where their mounts were waiting, still saddled, and flew into their saddles; they bolted into the night, leaving the stable boy to gape in wonder at their hasty departure. The messenger was right, he held out as long as he could but he only bought the boys a few moments though he paid for it with his life, but the sudden departure of all the inn patrons confused the pursuers and forced them to split up and discover who now carried the message that would spell the end of all their master's careful planning if it ever reached its destination. The boys rode hard and all through the night. As the sun peaked over the hills, their horses were near collapse and could go no further. An inn appeared out of the trees ahead and the boys rode gratefully into the stable, where the groom quickly set to work on their horses, saying, "the poor beasts will go no farther, at least not in the next day or so!"

Kenin asked, "are there no horses here we can borrow to continue our journey? We are on a dire mission and cannot stop long ere our foes fall upon us and many will come to grief for our failure to reach our destination!"

The groom shrugged, "there are several fine beasts belonging to various guests that are saddled and waiting for their masters but it is not for me to say if any will part with the animals." The sound of a sword being drawn forth silenced the groom and all eyes focused on a tall man who had just entered the stable. He laughed at the three pathetic boys whom he had chased all night, as the groom quietly disappeared, not wishing to be caught in such a quarrel.

The man said, "give me the letter and you need not die."

Kenin's knees quaked but he was not about to abandon his mission, though he wondered how he could be a match to such a seemingly skilled warrior. Before he knew what he was doing, he had his sword in his hands and was tangled in a fight with the intruder. Tell and Wilim stared in amazement for a second but then came to their senses and grabbed three of the aforementioned, already saddled horses. Kenin struck a blow on the man's left temple and his foe collapsed with a cry of anguish. He nearly dropped his sword in surprise, for he had never drawn blood in a fight before, but he wasted no more time in wonder and horror as he leapt into the waiting saddle and took the reins from the frenzied Tell. They vanished from the stable yard in a cloud of dust.

Once they had put some distance betwixt themselves and the inn and their hearts had slowed to a more sensible pace, Kenin gasped, "is it right to steal these horses?"

Tell said, "would you rather have that man cut you to pieces or fail in our mission? Once all is finished, I am sure this Lord Arvin will make everything right with those so injured."

Kenin sighed but could only nod at the sense of his friend's words, though he regretted the necessity of such an infraction on top of the remorse for his night out, this was truly becoming a regrettable experience. They galloped on, and as the shades of evening drew together, they collapsed in an exhausted heap in a well hidden dell to pass the night and rest their stolen mounts.

Morning found them stiff and miserable, but their horses seemed somewhat refreshed and they took again to their insane road. Around noon, their horses again nearing exhaustion, an arrow whizzed past Kenin's ear and reminded them that they were still closely pursued, but a market town appeared ahead of them and they pushed their horses to their limit. Upon entering the town, they were accosted by a patrol of the local guardsmen that were just mounting up. The frantic youths quickly explained the situation and the soldiers wore a grim look. Their captain said, "bandits and outlaws you say? Take three of our horses and continue your quest; we will deal with your pursuers if we can catch them."

Kenin smiled in relief, "thank you!"

They were quickly in the saddles of three of the fresh horses and were once again hard upon the road. The guardsmen must have at least slowed down their pursuers, or at least made them more cautious, or perhaps their own horses were growing weary, for the next three days there was no sign of pursuit and the boys did not need to press their own mounts to exhaustion.

The morning they planned on riding triumphantly into Lord Arvin's domain brought a new challenge before them. Their foes were no longer content with ambush and pursuit, instead they waited openly upon the road for the boys to come to them. There were six men and upon sighting the boys, they wasted no time in rushing upon them en masse. All would have been lost had not six of the King's soldiers happened upon the melee. They were astonished that three such youths could hold their own against so many foes but it was obvious such resistance could not last long.

The boys were trained in Astoria, but even with the best training they were no match for so many experienced foes. The guards rode in and suddenly the battle was over. Two of the enemy combatants had fallen, Wilim had a wounded shoulder, and the rest surrendered. Kenin quickly explained their predicament and the captain told off two of his men to accompany the uninjured boys to Lord Arvin while the rest of the company would proceed to the King with the wounded boy and the prisoners. The grateful boys thanked him profusely and the captain said, "it is to you that thanks are owed for risking so much to maintain the peace of the realm!" They each rode off in their respective directions with no further incidents occurring to either party upon the way.

The Lord Arvin was astonished at the tale the two boys told and very grateful when the contents of the letter were revealed. It seemed he had an older brother who had been banished some years ago for certain rebellious acts against their late father, thus denying him the Lordship in his turn. It seemed this exiled lord had a son whom he wished to woo and marry Arvin's only daughter and heir, thus assuring that the lordship returned to its rightful descent. A man faithful to Arvin had been in the service of the exiled brother for many years but had left immediately with word of the scheme when it became known to him.

The man's flight had been discovered and pursuit was quickly made, he was overtaken in Waymeet but gladly his quest had not failed and his Lord was warned and the daughter saved. As the man was reading and rereading his letter and talking to himself quite exuberantly, Tell was watching a beautiful young lady wander about in the gardens outside the window. Kenin watched his host, patiently wondering what to do next. Did he return to Astoria and face the disgrace awaiting there or beg service in Lord Arvin's guard that he might escape his shame and at least have a respectable future?

Lord Arvin finally contented himself with his brother's plots and attended to his valiant guests, "now what can I do to reward such fine service?"

Kenin said, "I ask only sir, that you make reparations to those injured in the course of our flight and that perhaps you will write a letter to the Lady of Astoria explaining our recent adventure that she not take our absence amiss."

Said the astonished Lord, "is that all you would ask of me? I would give you half my domain were it in my power!"

Tell sighed distractedly, still watching the girl with a faint smile on his face, "Kenin may be content with a letter but I would be most grateful for an introduction to the young lady yonder."

Arvin smiled, "that at least I can arrange young man, and it is the least I can do for so bold a youth. My daughter would be pleased to meet such a hero!"

Kenin smiled in spite of himself, "are you not returning to Astoria?"

Tell smiled, "I fear not. Astoria has lost all its attraction but Teradok has become quite interesting. I shall find something useful to do here. Farewell my friend, we have shared much in the last few years and more in the last few days! If ever you have need of me, all you need do is ask."

Kenin bid a tearful farewell to his friend and received a grateful goodbye from the Lord Arvin and said upon parting, "I will ride to the castle and see how Wilim fares and if you change your mind, I shall await you there ere I return home to beg the Lady's pardon."

Tell smiled and waved enthusiastically, Lord Arvin said to the boy once Kenin was out of sight, "certainly a strange lad, but more honorable than most men I think." Tell grinned, for he could not agree more.

Wilim was excited to see Kenin and enthusiastically listened to his recital of events since their parting; he then imparted his own news. The King was so impressed by his bravery that he had been offered a lieutenancy in the King's Guard and he had already accepted. Moreover, Wilim was quite determined to introduce his friend to the King, but Kenin said, "alas but I must return alone to Astoria. Perhaps after all is done there, I shall return and beg such a favor but duty bids me to explain myself to the Lady and cast myself upon her mercy."

Wilim laughed, "the Brethren do not deserve so honorable a heart, but then again only such souls are crazy enough to do as you are planning. You have been thoroughly corrupted my friend. I will miss you but ever am I at your service though a century sunder us!"

They bid one another farewell and Kenin set out upon the lonely road home. The journey back seemed to take forever as there was no longer anyone pursuing him, he did not ride at a horse killing pace, he had no merry companions upon the journey thither, and the dread of facing the Lady weighed heavily upon him, but he could not rest easy until he had faced her, regardless of the outcome. A patrol overtook the weary boy on the borders of Astoria and two of their number escorted the bedraggled boy back to the city. He felt a prisoner already condemned with such an escort but he did not feel it unjustified as they had fled the city without explanation and had taken with them three horses belonging to the Brethren. Kenin especially had caused something of a scandal in having already been given permission to take his Oath.

His escorts said nothing but each wore a neutral expression, now and again betraying a hint of disappointment, which Kenin felt more acutely than if they had been furious or violent. Finally, the little company arrived in the courtyard, where the appearance of the truant boy caused a bit of a stir amongst those who knew the tale. A servant was quickly sent to the Lady and just as swiftly returned to say that the boy would be seen as soon as the Lady's schedule permitted. He was escorted to a little room not far from the Lady's audience chamber and there he stood for some hours with his grim escort until at last the Lady summoned him. She said nothing as the boy entered, made his bows, and stood dejectedly before her. Her eyes held a dreadful combination of shock, anger, and disappointment, which Kenin could not meet and fell to his knees sobbing. Such a reaction softened that gaze, which could make sitting monarchs tremble, as she said quietly, "well?"

After what seemed a century, the boy said in a choked whisper, "I have greatly disappointed you Lady. Not only you but the Master and all for which He stands and all those who have so patiently taught me and encouraged me over the years. I was a fool to sneak off as I did and I regret it bitterly. Though some good came of it, the price was great. I am sorry, though I do not know the words to convey the depths of my grief and the horror I feel at my own rebellion!"

She said quietly, "you had best tell the full tale and what has come of your friends?" The tears sprung anew as he told the story and at last when he had finished, she smiled weakly, "it seems the Master can even find a use for disobedience. It took much courage for you to return after such a scandal, especially when your friends found such an agreeable reception in Teradok. As your repentance and anguish of heart are also real, I have no fear about such incidents in the future. But what is that future to be?"

The boy looked at her then and said, "be it unto me as you will Lady. I once aspired to join the Brethren but after such a betrayal I do not think it possible that you would take me back."

She smiled then and said, "actually I will gladly accept you back, but know in future that you must try to resist such temptation!"

He gaped and tears of joy came to his eyes as he said, "Lady, the price is too dear for me to repeat such an offense. I am yours if you will have me!"

She smiled deeply and said, "welcome home child."

Twenty years passed and Kenin found himself again on a journey to Teradok, but this time he traveled with a clear conscience and the hope of seeing his friends once more. He smiled to himself, for things had certainly changed in the intervening years. Kenin was the Lady's new Advisor to the King of Teradok, Tell had married the Lord Arvin's beautiful daughter and upon his father-in-law's death became Lord in his place, and Wilim was now the King's greatest General. The three old friends would be reunited at Tell's estates, to which Kenin greatly looked forward. He also wondered what information they might have about the disappearance of the Lady's former Advisor to the King of Teradok whom Kenin was replacing, as the man had not been seen in over a month and no one knew what had come of him.

Kenin's musings were cut short as he rode into the stable yard of Tell's great house and gave his mount over to the eager servants. He was then led into the presence of his old friend by yet another excited serving man. Anyone who put their master in this good of a mood was to be greatly welcomed! Kenin entered the dining hall wherein the General and the young Lord had been quietly conversing; they stood upon seeing the new arrival and for a moment all studied each other to see what changes twenty years had wrought.

Tell spoke abruptly to the servant and said, "leave us please as we have things to discuss privately." The man bowed and vanished from the room, leaving the three old comrades alone. Tell approached his old friend, smiled, and embracing him said, "you have not aged all that much! Perhaps I should have joined the Brethren, if only to keep some semblance of youth."

Kenin laughed and said, "it seems you are doing quite well in your own right. I have missed you both."

Wilim grinned like a delighted boy, "it is just like old times! Ah, the memories you bring back. Come, seat yourself and let us discuss old times and new adventures."

Kenin smiled and took a seat across from the two men and began, "as I wrote, I am to replace the Lady's vanished Advisor to the King. Know you anything about it?"

Tell said quietly, "actually this very matter is exactly what we wish to speak of."

Wilim groused, "I had hoped for a little time of reminiscing first but perhaps there shall be time enough later. We are still friends?"

Kenin nodded, "my devotion is unchanged."

Tell smiled, "excellent, for we are about to propose a new adventure in which we need your aid. We once accomplished great things and now we have the opportunity to accomplish even more. What if I were to propose that you could be the Advisor not only to a King but also to one of your dearest friends?"

Kenin frowned slightly, "and how is that to be accomplished?"

Tell continued, "the King is an old man, sick and frail, he has but one child and should anything happen to him, Teradokian law states that the most powerful Lord in the realm would be next in line for the throne. I am that man. All that stands before me is the Prince!"

Kenin's frown deepened, "you are asking me to help you murder the Prince and betray the King?"

Wilim grinned, "is that not what friends are for? Come Kenin, you have toiled in obscurity long enough. It is time to enjoy the rewards of your valiant labors rather than risk your life in vain."

Kenin shook his head vehemently, "you cannot be serious! I could never act in such a manner. Long ago you convinced me to do something much less dreadful and my heart smote me sorely, and now you ask me to do far worse!"

Tell said a bit sadly, "then I am afraid this time it will not be your heart that smites you. I had hoped for the sake of old friendships that you would see things our way, but alas your noble heart has just gotten you killed."

Kenin reached for his sword and had half risen from his seat, when he felt a sharp pain in his back and crumpled to the floor in agony. He stared up in horror at a man with no left eye and a dreadful scar across his temple. The man laughed, "so you recognize me do you boy? I have waited many long years to have revenge for my eye."

Kenin gasped through the pain in his chest where the man's sword had run him through, "you are plotting with our old foe to overthrow the King?"

The man smirked, "actually I am taking back my father's rightful place as Lord of this domain once your friend here becomes King. Now everybody will be happy, except you. You will just be dead."

Darkness gnawed at the edges of Kenin's vision as he gasped, "I thought we were friends?"

Wilim said grimly, "so did I. But I guess we were wrong."

Kenin lapsed into darkness and did not reply. Tell sent the one eyed man out to fetch certain servants awaiting just such an occurrence. They returned swiftly, searched the body and removed all valuable or useful items, and dragged the prone form out into the night. Kenin's saddlebags were also searched and the desired items were collected by the cyclops for future use. The unicorn had felt his master's distress and once free of his stall, had disappeared into the night. Tell shook his head at the servants' recitation of the event, grateful that the beast's late master had been a Philosopher and not a Messenger or Warrior, for then the brute would likely have come looking for revenge or at least would have done worse damage to the stables in his despair at his master's demise. The three men then returned to their plotting as if they had not just committed murder, the victim of which was a friend almost dearer than a brother to two of them.

Kenin was very near death when they came to drag him away, so near in fact that no one cared to postpone his burial until it was a certainty. They carried him quietly out into the night and dropped the future corpse unceremoniously into a roughly dug grave in what was called the Robber's Graveyard, where those executed for their crimes by the state were interred. No one would remark a great lord's men burying another corpse in such unhallowed ground. Each man had shoveled a bit of dirt into the hole when the horses began to dance and whinny in fear before screaming in terror, breaking loose, and fleeing into the night. The confused men swiftly gave chase, hoping to catch their frantic beasts and also desperate to avoid whatever could cause the animals to panic at such a place and time.

The beasts and their masters gone, Kenin's unicorn pranced out of the dark and knelt by the hole. He whickered miserably, sensing his quickly failing master in the pit below. The great hearted beast then did that for which his race was renowned and touched the tip of his horn to his dying master and took the wounds upon himself. Kenin started awake only to catch one fleeting glimpse of the noble creature, that had spared his life at the cost of his own, before he vanished upon death. Tears ran unabated down Kenin's cheeks but he knew he had no time for grief. He crawled from the grave and hid himself in the shrubbery nearby, only just in time, as the gravediggers had returned after failing to catch their mounts and breaking their only lantern in the process.

They could not see into the bottom of the pit but had no reason to doubt that its occupant still remained within. They finished their task, grumbling about the darkness and foolish beasts, and then began the long walk home. Kenin stood once he was alone and made his way along the road towards the capital city, knowing he must speak to the King, all the while mourning for his lost friend, who had been willing to give life at the cost of his own, and also grieving the betrayal of those he had once thought his friends. His feet ached and bled, as his boots had been taken from him, as had anything else of value or use. He was covered in grime, blood, and tears streaked his face. Kenin smiled grimly, thinking himself quite a sight to be demanding an audience with the King. He wore plain clothes, which were now bloodied and filthy after recent events, his uniform having been stashed in his saddlebags for travel, along with his letter from the Lady to the King. It would take a miracle for anyone to believe him, let alone the King. In the small hours of the morning he finally entered the capital city and the city guard was not long in accosting such a scandalous looking fellow wandering the streets at such an hour.

"Ho there beggar!" said the captain of the patrol, "What business have you here? I suggest you move along and leave town else I may have to detain you." Kenin wore such a look of grief and urgency that the captain was hard pressed to say even that much, for here was a man who was either mad or had recently suffered greatly. He then marked the blood on the man's clothes and asked, "are you some victim of robbers or perhaps a murderer yourself? Speak man!"

Tears came again to the man's eyes as he said, "it is a fell night for betrayal and murder my lord! There are plots in the night. Haste to the King, to him alone I must speak. His life and that of his son depend upon it!"

Said the captain, taken aback, "it is an audacious man who makes such a request in such condition at such an hour. You are either mad or in earnest and I dare not deny you if it is the latter, I will make the request of the King but know that it is your head if you lie or he does not believe you."

"It shall be as it must," said Kenin with such a mixture of grief and determination that even the hardest heart among the gathered Guards was touched. The captain motioned and one of the soldiers took the man up before him in the saddle and they swiftly escorted him to the dungeons, therein to await the King or his commands.

The captain went immediately to seek after one of the King's upper servants, but found the man himself in the pantry looking for a late snack or an early breakfast. The man bowed and said, "Majesty I have an apparition that demands an audience with your Highness."

The King growled, "what sensible request can be made at such an hour?"

The captain said, "he is a curious case Sire and speaks with such earnestness that I dare not keep it from your Grace, especially when he speaks of threats against you and yours, betrayal, and murder in the night!"

The King said thoughtfully, "he knows if I am unhappy the consequences are dire?"

The soldier nodded, "and still he demands an audience."

The King smiled grimly, "well then let us to him for I greatly desire some form of intrigue, be it an execution or a true plot, one or the other is sure to cure my boredom and thus my insomnia." The soldier nodded and escorted the King to the chamber wherein prisoners were interrogated in one way or another. The King gaped upon sighting the man, "you listen to a man dressed like that? He must certainly be a robber or a madman."

Kenin bowed and said, "I am neither Majesty. In fact I am your new Advisor from the Lady of Astoria."

The King could not help but laughing, "and I am the Queen of Vitria! Can you prove such an assertion?"

At this the tears welled once more in those eyes and Kenin said, "nay Majesty, I cannot. I have been deprived of all those things that might prove my identity to your Highness. Another of the Brethren could ascertain my identity but I fear there are none here to do so."

The King nodded, "you had best proceed with your tale then but know I am very much prone to doubt you."

Kenin said, "your greatest Lord and General plot against you Sire and demanded my help in their scheme. Upon my refusal, they thought to make an end of me and left me for dead and as such you see me now."

The King growled, "the two of whom you speak are considered heroes in the eyes of many in the Kingdom. Know you not what they did in their youth?"

Kenin nodded grimly, "I know very well what they accomplished twenty years ago, as I was the third person in their party that succeeded in so strange a mission. I called them friends until this very night when they tried to have me murdered by the very man who plotted against Lord Arvin so many years ago and who now plots alongside them to your ruin." He then proceeded to tell of all his adventures both past and present as related to his friends and the King.

The King was aghast, "if what you say is true then these are grim tidings indeed, for these men I count as the most faithful in my Kingdom! Whom am I to believe? A filthy wanderer or these men of honor and long acquaintance? In the morning I shall summon them and before the entire city, your fate and theirs shall be decided. Have you no proof of what you say?"

Kenin shook his head, "nay lord, save that perhaps there is a fresh dug grave in the Robber's Graveyard wherein there is no corpse."

"We shall see what the morning brings," said the King thoughtfully as he turned and left Kenin to himself.

The King sent men to dig up the aforementioned grave and also messengers to all his greatest lords and advisors. By the time the sun was up, the city was abuzz with rumors of the strange proceedings to commence very shortly in the town square. Lord Tell, General Wilim, and a one-eyed man in the uniform of the Brethren presented themselves before the King as requested, along with most of the townsfolk and anyone of importance in the castle, court, and surrounding countryside. Once all were assembled, the filthy and grief-weary Kenin was brought forth. The crowd gasped at such a strange figure in their midst; the three plotters gasped to see him alive.

Said the King, once the surprise had subsided into a quiet murmur, "this curious fellow was found wandering the streets last night and claims terrible things about you my Lord Tell, General Wilim, and your unnamed guest."

Tell spoke up, quite at ease with the situation and seemed grieved by the King's discomfiture, saying, "Majesty, I am sorry this fellow troubles you. He came to me last night and demanded help in his plots against Teradok. I am ashamed to say he is the son of the man who tried twenty years ago to cause so much trouble in your peaceful realm. He said he would say the most horrendous things about my family if I did not aid his crazy scheme. We of course turned him out, but as his appearance attests, he would not leave without a struggle. He grievously injured three of my servants before he was overcome and dismissed. I hoped he would disappear quietly in shame but it seems he has tried to win his way into your graces by lying about me and mine."

"Is this true?" gasped the King of the one-eyed faux Brother.

Smiled the man, "it is certainly true Majesty. It was his father that took my eye during that adventure which made the Lord Tell and your beloved General quite famous twenty years gone. After my part in it, I withdrew to Astoria and have returned now as your new Advisor from the Lady. Here is her letter to you." He presented the stolen letter to the King, who read eagerly and smiled to see that his prisoner was truly a scoundrel and his most trusted servants were yet faithful.

"What have you to say for yourself then?" asked the King of Kenin, "Your tale was quite ingenious but it seems these men can contradict your falsehood quite easily. You even went so far as to dig a false grave to corroborate your story! I am impressed, but if you cannot exonerate yourself, you will soon be inhabiting that grave in truth."

Kenin sighed, "I am the third of that infamous party, the one eyed man is the villain and it was I that took his eye! That letter and his uniform were stolen from me last night."

The General growled, "look at the villain, he is no older than twenty! He could not have yet been born when that adventure took place. I and Tell both know he was not on that quest with us."

Kenin said, "yet here is proof! I am of the Brethren, for we do not age as quickly as other men."

The King sighed, "that may or may not be the case. Have you no other proof?"

Kenin said, "have this man present his unicorn to prove himself."

The one eyed man smiled, "ask Majesty and I shall beg the noble creature to reveal himself but it is a great insult to his kind."

The King sighed, "I will not try your patience nor that of your beast. I need hear no more of his lies. Fetch the headsman!"

There was a general uproar of approval from the onlookers but to Kenin's surprise, the one eyed man said, "Sire must it be so? Does this poor, misguided soul truly deserve death?"

Said the King, "your pity alone is proof enough of your allegiance. But yes it must be so, if only to prevent further plots in the future. Besides, he agreed himself that this would happen if I did not believe him."

The one-eyed man bowed his head in seeming resignation and said, "justice must be done Majesty."

The executioner arrived and preparations were made for the day's entertainment. All were quite impressed and a bit dismayed at how nobly the wretched man met his end without a word of regret or outburst of fear. If he was such a scoundrel, one would think he would make a scene at the last. But the ax fell and that was the end of the matter. This time, the three conspirators were quite sure the man would remain securely in his grave. The body would certainly not stir again but that did not mean they were yet finished with such a stubborn foe.

Kenin found himself on one knee in what was best described as a mist, but it was of such wonderful colors and substance that no mortal words exist to describe it. But it was not his surreal surroundings that occupied his attention, it was the Great Unicorn before him that was the Source of all things and with a thought could create or destroy an entire universe. Before such a Presence, even the greatest of men must cower, and Kenin was terrified or would have been, if a great sense of peace and joy had not enveloped him. He felt himself a failure in his mission, but the Master said gently, "come child, weep not, for you have done all that which I have asked. There are a few more things to be done and then you shall cease from mortal strivings and enter the peace of My country."

For a moment Kenin raised his eyes to those of his Maker and felt himself the happiest man who ever lived simply for having looked into those joyous depths but for a moment. And then the mist consumed him, the Master vanished, and he found himself standing amidst a great wood. This was no wood in the waking world but a phantasm of a sleeping mind, the dreamer suddenly came upon the intruder astride a great horse following a pack of hounds. The rider glimpsed the man in his path and suddenly horse and dogs vanished and they stood face to face. Tell gasped, "how is it a fair dream suddenly becomes a nightmare? How many times must a man be buried ere he remains forever in the dust?"

Kenin shook his head sadly, "never more shall I trouble your waking but one last warning is sent you."

Tell scoffed, "warning? From whom? We are even more endeared to the King than ever before thanks to your little stunt, though we must wait a few months until suspicion is completely gone ere we act."

Kenin said quietly, "you will be found out, one way or another. Take heed lest you lose your soul with your life. The Master asks once more if you will seek Him?"

Tell grinned, "I need neither you nor your Master. The dead do not carry tales to the living so I have little to fear from you." Kenin shook his head sadly and suddenly vanished as Tell's dream continued on as if it had never been interrupted. Neither was Wilim excited to see such a ghost. He too scoffed at the warning and Kenin then found himself in a place he was loath to be, but which the Master deemed necessary. The dead could not carry tales to the living, but the living had no such restrictions.

"Kenin?" gasped the Lady as she recognized the man who had invaded her dream, "I do not usually dream of my servants, but I feel this is no ordinary dream."

"Nay Lady," said he, "for I bring a message from the Master Himself. These are grim times in Teradok and the King refuses to believe it. A traitor has taken my place at his side as the Advisor from Astoria and my two old friends plot murder with this usurper. I was executed as a traitor to the Crown. You must write to the King and tell him of the scoundrels in his midst. He would not believe me but perhaps he will believe you ere it is too late." He was suddenly gone and the Lady started awake. A tear escaped one eye as she called for her servant.

The King received the letter, delivered personally by one of the Lady's most trusted Messengers. The man easily proved his identity as one of the Brethren and when the one-eyed imposter was pressed to do the same, he was revealed for what he was. The Lord Tell and General Wilim told all once their scheme was revealed. The King was aghast that he had killed an innocent man who had twice risked everything for Teradok. Said the King to his new Advisor from Astoria once all was accomplished, "it seems a pity your Brother lies buried among such ignominious companions. Why the very friends who plotted his ruin and mine lie right alongside him. Should his remains not be moved to more hallowed ground? Or a monument be raised in his memory?"

Said the Brother sadly, "have the story written out in full and left as a memorial that such things not happen again, but Kenin requires no mortal glory, for such things matter not to those who dwell forever in the midst of the Master's undying glory. Leave his bones alone, for they are the least part of him."

### Many Sorrows Borne

Swords clashed about them in the night and the screams of men, triumphant or a final despair, rushed to deaf ears, for the embattled pair had no focus but their own deadly dance. One by one, the sounds of conflict died away until only this last skirmish remained. The survivors watched, stunned at the skill of both swordsmen, but finally it was over. The large man, clad all in dark brown and gray, struck a blow upon his opponent's sword hand and the defensive blade went flying. The man in brown laughed in anticipation, drew back his blade, and made ready to strike the fatal blow. Then the world froze, as if that one moment were all of eternity. The two men studied each other curiously in this strange and unending moment. There was no fear in the eyes of the man about to be pierced through, only a strange sort of pity. The moon was up and there was light enough almost to see clearly but it seemed all about them turned to blackness, as if the moon was hidden beneath a sudden cloud. All for a moment was dark and when they could see once more, so could they also move and speak.

Price, the astonished man in brown, grunted in dismay, "where is my sword?"

Cass, the man awaiting his doom, looked about curiously and said, "where is everyone and everything?"

Price shivered, "this is no natural night." Cass nodded his agreement but did not seem afraid. Price turned on him in anger, "why are you never afraid? You are afraid neither to die nor to find yourself in this strange ethereal nothingness!"

Cass smiled, "what have I to fear? I know Whom I believe."

Price sat down with a great sigh, "I should have known! Of all the annoying people to find myself trapped in a limbo with, it must be one of the Brethren!"

Cass laughed, "and what is so wrong with that?"

Price snarled, "you go around preaching to everyone, regardless of whether they wish to hear you or not, that we had all best be good little children or the Master's wrath will come upon us! You think yourselves better than everyone else and cannot fathom that most people would rather just get on with their own lives as they wish them to be. You have no idea what it is to suffer and bear the sorrows of a common man, trapped as you are in your happy little mythology, or perhaps if your Master does exist, he must keep you from any hurt and harm." Cass held up his sword hand and studied it quietly, the last two fingers were missing where Price's blade had struck. Price growled, "well perhaps you know what physical pain is, but have you ever known real pain? I could teach you a thing or two about living in the real world and the misery that comes with it. If your Master is so good and loving and powerful, then why are men allowed to suffer?"

Suddenly all was dark again and Cass felt himself drawn to sit beside his temporary companion upon the log he had taken as his own. The pair might be miles apart in ideology but in that unnatural night, they were drawn together by the need for another, any, human presence. A light came again, or perhaps a lessening of the darkness but only on one side, directly before the stunned pair, all else was utterly dark. "What is going on?" whispered Price.

Cass said quietly, "I think you just might get your chance to show me all your sorrows but first I fear you must see my own."

Price snorted, "at least it will be a short tale. What can you know of such things?" And then they were silent, as before them the ethereal light resolved itself into a picture but unlike the paintings and drawings with which they might be familiar, this picture moved. Price asked, "what is it?"

Cass said in awe, "memories. Memories of my early days. You have been granted your wish."

Price groused, "this is weird, wish or no, I want done with this!"

Cass said, "I am afraid the only way to end it is to go through it."

Price sighed, "well get on with it then."

Cass began to speak, as if he were speaking from a well rehearsed script. As he did so, memories flashed before them. Price watched and listened in wonder, musing to himself what his own turn would be like. The story before them went something like this...

A little boy of ten was holding the hand of a girl perhaps two years older. Two taller children could be seen as shadows off to the side; all were raggedly garbed and they stood in a shabby room around a withered woman upon her deathbed. Cass began, "my mother died when I was ten. We never knew our father, but there was a man living with us for as long as I can remember. After my mother died, he stayed on out of habit or necessity, perhaps both but certainly not out of compassion or fondness for us. My two oldest siblings ran away from home within the first year after my mother's death, leaving only myself and my sister at home. The man never did anything to support our strange little family and left it to us to fend for ourselves, though he demanded a portion of our scant income for himself that he might pass the time more pleasantly in the local ale house.

My sister kept house and earned what she could with her hands. I was ever looking for any sort of work, and when that failed I was forced to beg and even on occasion steal, for if ever I came home with too little, the man was sure to be outraged and would beat us severely. So it was that two years passed in this way when I was out upon a market day, and having failed to find an honest means of making my day's income, I was reaching for some small trinket upon a merchant's table when I felt my hand grasped by one much larger and stronger. I tensed in fear but knew I was caught and there was no use in resisting.

I looked up into the eyes of a tall man; they were stern but beneath were humor and joy. He asked me no questions but said quietly, "you must not steal lad. It is a bad habit and only leads to worse. It is a harsh world but better to starve than to steal." He tossed me a silver coin and suddenly vanished into the crowds. I stared at the coin in wonder, it would feed us for two weeks! His strange words touched my mind, but more his kindness touched my heart. He was well within his rights to call the guard and have me arrested but instead he had pity upon me in my plight. It was the first kindness I had known since my mother died, save those small attentions my dear sister was wont to give.

Another two years passed and my sister had grown into an attractive, though shabbily clad young woman. She confronted the man one day, feeling it her duty to inform him that she wished to marry. Seeing his tenuous existence threatened, he flew into a rage and would have hurt her severely but I jumped between them and told her to run. With terror in her eyes, but knowing there to be no other choice, she complied. Instead his wrath fell upon me. I do not remember much, save that it hurt terribly and then the blackness took me. I never saw the man again, perhaps he thought me dead and ran in fear or was perhaps ashamed of what he had done, but I do not know what came of him. My sister however was neither faithless nor faint of heart. When the man was gone, she came back for me and bore me to the house of her beloved.

Those were happy years. She married a blacksmith's apprentice and I lived with them, doing what I could to help out. But it was not to last for she died in childbirth. My brother-in-law was grieved to his core but he said I could stay on if I wished, but it was too painful for both of us so I withdrew and took again to the streets, but alas I had lost my boyish charm and few would give alms to a healthy young man. I was hungry and thought again of stealing, but the memory came of a man who once took pity on a small, hungry thief. I decided that starve if I must, I would not attain a living dishonestly. The memory intrigued me and I set out to discover who and what that man was.

He wore a sword and a rather distinctive uniform. I discovered the identity of his brotherhood and set out myself for Astoria. How it was I arrived there alive I cannot say, but it was certainly a miracle! There I learned many things, but most of all I discovered the Master's love for wandering humanity. I had suffered, but He had suffered more, especially when He need never have known sorrow! I dedicated my life to the Brethren from thence onward. You might accuse the Brethren of knowing neither sorrow nor pain, but we know it as much as other men. We simply know that we are not alone in bearing it and that it will not last forever. One day it will be replaced forever by joy and not remembered after.

But as long as life lasts, sorrow is attendant unto it. As a Student, I met a remarkable young lady, and not long after she became an Apprentice of the Brethren. I was not long in following suit and we agreed that after our apprenticeships were finished and once we had the Lady's blessing that we would be married. Ah, the undying hopes of youth! Two years passed and we each had our adventures in the wide world though more often sundered than not, but we had the future before us so the years passed swiftly.

I was released from my apprenticeship and my beloved was due back at any time, then we might begin our lives together for she was already finished with her apprenticeship. Each morning for a month, I stood upon the battlements watching the distant road, but never did she ride back. Word finally came that she had fallen in the course of her duties and was forever lost to this world. I grieved, as all men do, but the Lady would not leave me alone to stew in my grief. She sent me out and gave me purpose and something to focus on besides my own shattered heart. With time came healing and also new relationships. I was by that time old and experienced enough to take on an apprentice of my own. He was a bright and lively boy and did much to ease the tedium and weariness of travel. I watched over him as some combination of friend and father and loved him as if he were my own son.

Two years passed and his own time of promotion was imminent, though I would miss him sorely I knew he would do well and was infinitely proud of him. But we had one last mission together. A great king was concerned for his daughter's wellbeing until she was safely married so he had asked the Lady for help. Our job was to keep the Princess safe and out of the hands of those that might benefit by her disappearance or demise. She slept in an inner chamber with no windows and only one door opening into a sitting room that had a single window three stories above an enclosed garden and with a single door into the adjacent hall. The boy was enamored with the Princess though I told him it could never be, yet in his heart he yearned for things he could not have.

We had argued that night and I had sent him to bed, thus requiring me to stand watch at her door in his stead though I had spent the entire day guarding her while he had rested in anticipation of a night's watching. I leaned against her door in the sitting room and was nearly dozing with weariness when a noise in the garden below roused me. The noise came again and I recognized it as the sound of climbing feet upon the vine covered wall below the window. The trespasser's head soon appeared in the window, but he wore a dark mask so I knew him not. I heard his sword being drawn and the next moment he leapt upon me. My heart sank for I knew this man, if not by his face then certainly by his fighting style, for we had sparred many times over the last two years, but he had never fought like this. This time either he or I must certainly die.

It was a mortal blow to the boy but no less to myself. Here was a lad I had loved like a son yet he had betrayed me. Had I done something wrong in his training? But no, each heart must choose what it will do and it was his choice alone that led to this dreadful end. It is the same with all the Master's children, they must choose to serve or deny Him and in the end they must live with the consequences. The Princess was roused by our noise in the adjoining room, and as soon as all was safe, the King decided that she would be wed without delay. And so my mission was ended but my grief was only begun. Again, with time and the Master's love, the wounds begin to heal but ever is sorrow a companion on this weary way called life." So did he finish and for a time the flashing picture grew still.

Price nodded, "I suppose you have suffered a few things in your life." He smiled in anticipation, much as he had done preparatory to striking down Cass before they had been interrupted. "Now it is my turn," continued he, "prepare yourself for true sorrow!" The picture flickered to life again and this time it showed a stout boy with a sour look on his face confronting a pair of angered parents. Began Price, "I grew up with stern and demanding parents. Nothing was ever good enough for them. They demanded that I obey them in everything and thought they knew better than everybody. Of course they did not and no one can be expected to be perfectly obedient.

In my frustration, I spent more time with a couple of older boys who knew what it was to have fun. They also showed me how freeing a bottle of ale can be after a rough day. We began pulling pranks and having fun all around the village and folk began to call us troublemakers and villains. Old Man Walters was especially vociferous and after one tirade to my parents, he very nearly got me kicked out of the house. Of course we had to retaliate so we set his barn on fire. That did not go over at all well with our elders and we dared not let ourselves be caught. We ran away from home and decided it was high time we learned to fend for ourselves. We wandered into a distant city and began to really enjoy life, but that sort of thing cannot last long without a means of income.

So we began stealing, just like you, to maintain our lifestyle. Unlike you, when we were caught we did get into trouble. At first we were flogged but the next time they tossed us into the quarries. But the quarries, though miserable, did not kill us or cure us. They hardened us into true rebels and renegades and also allowed us to get to know others of a similar mindset. Finally, we were released and formed this little band of thieves to prey upon whom we will. You have had a few set backs in life, but my entire life has been one of trouble and misery and you dare tell me you know sorrow?"

Cass replied, "it seems to me that most of your trouble you brought upon yourself, first by disobeying your parents and then the law."

Price smiled grimly, "but who is it of the two of us that has enjoyed life the more? You have nothing but a string of dead acquaintances and are forbidden all the little pleasures in life."

Cass said, "I have had my share of small joys, though you might not consider them such. I would think carefully if what you consider to be 'pleasure' is truly worth the price you pay to obtain it and if it actually brings you joy. All the joys of this life are marred by sorrow, true and abiding joy waits until this life and its sorrows are through."

Price groused, "an end which I was planning to give you."

Cass said quietly, "I would carefully consider your own life. This vision or whatever it is, is not sent for our amusement but as a warning that you need to look after your own soul lest the sorrows of this life seem a veritable joy compared to what comes afterward to those unfaithful to the Master."

Price stood in anger, "I do not need any of your pontifications. If only I had a sword!"

Suddenly the world was back as it had been; the unending moment resumed and at last it found its end. Price towered over Cass with blade drawn, his cronies were urging him on, and a look of grim resignation was in Cass' eyes. He shook his head sadly and then fell with the inevitable stroke of Price's sword. Price smiled down derisively at the prone form with glazing eyes and said, "and what has your sorrow gained you?" He laughed and began cleaning his sword. With their foes dead, the rest of the bandits began ransacking the merchant train they had raided and then moved off to find somewhere to sleep for the night.

Price lay dozing at his post, though he was supposed to be on watch, but the ordeal with the dead Brother had tried him more than he knew. He was not surprised when the ghost came to him in a dream. "And now the encore," scoffed the sleeping bandit.

Cass nodded, "you knew I would come?"

The bandit laughed, "you think we could share that weird experience and have it end simply with you dying? Come, was it worth it?" Cass cocked his head in question and the bandit snarled, "all your prattling about joy ever afterward fool! Is the joy worth the pain?"

Cass smiled in wonder, "all the sorrows that the world holds cannot begin to compare with the least of the joys that are to come. It is more than worth it! To have suffered tenfold more, it would still be worth it."

Price smiled, "then I suppose my own reward will be great, considering all that I have suffered?"

Cass shook his head, "it is not a matter of how much one suffers or prospers in this life. It is what we choose to do with the Master. Reject Him and all your sorrows and hard work are futile, meaningless! It is cast into the pit of Nothingness with your blighted soul and all is vain! Your life can only mean something if given fully into the Master's keeping and used to His glory."

Price sighed, "you came back from the grave to tell me that?"

Cass nodded, "the Master would have none lost and for some reason has gone to great extremes to reach out to your hard heart."

Price smiled, "I am flattered but I am afraid I like my debauchery far too much. We might have been friends I think, a pity you never made it to the quarries."

Cass smiled sadly, "a pity for you perhaps but a mercy to me. We might have been friends but now I fear we are sundered for all eternity."

He vanished and Price wakened with a start. There was shouting and the sound of clashing steel and hooves in the night. The camp was under attack! He drew his sword and leapt into the fray. The merchant caravan had been a decoy to draw this band of thieves out of hiding that the local militia might make an end of it, but alas the thieves had struck before the soldiers were ready, but no longer did they hold back justice. Price lay dying while the rest of his dismal little band met a similar fate. He thought over his pathetic life and wondered what the point of it was. The blackness gnawed at the edges of his vision and then loomed up and consumed him utterly. Finally clarity came and an answer with it. It was all vain, all of it, as vain and empty as the eternal, starless night that now consumed him. The fool Brother had been right but still Price would not change his mind, even if he could have.

### Meant For Evil

It was a time of severity and famine throughout the world. While hunger spurred war and rebellion throughout the lands of men, the Akoni, the shape-shifting raptors of the far northern plains, did their best but even they went hungry more often than not. The most severely affected were the young ones and the most wretched of these was the youngest of a pair of hatchlings belonging to a particular couple. Usually only a single egg was laid but rarely two were produced. Under usual circumstances this second hatchling struggled but usually survived. During these years of want, the youngest undoubtedly perished for only the strong survived in their proud world. Both chicks were hungry, and it was obvious the youngest was in trouble. His mother spoke quietly with his father one day, thinking themselves unheard, but the eldest chick was listening to their hushed quarrel. Said she, "I cannot abide the thought of abandoning the poor little thing to die alone. Let us all go hungry together."

Said he, "would you rather watch both your sons die of hunger?"

The elder chick shuddered at this thought, knowing his parents unlikely to decide against his brother thereby dooming them both; he decided to take matters into his own hands. He knew himself the strongest and he had also matured to the point that he could now change forms at will. He could not yet fly, but that would come next. His brother was completely helpless, being unable to fly or change forms as of yet. And if he had any say in the matter he would never reach that stage. While his parents continued their debate, he went in search of his brother.

He found the pathetic creature curled up in the shadow of a small rock, trying to escape the searing heat of the summer sun. The elder took on the form of a man in his prime and grabbed hold of his young brother about the neck and throttled him. He tossed aside the crumpled form without a thought and went in search of his parents. In mock alarm, he rushed in upon their deliberations to say his brother was dead. They hurried to the scene of the crime and looked upon their unmoving offspring in astonishment. His mother was inconsolable but his father's eye held a thoughtful light. He smiled slightly at his ruthless son, who glowed with his sire's approval of the deed. The family quickly moved on from that sad place, leaving the forgotten chick alone upon the plain.

They had not been gone an hour when a new intruder made itself known in that place. A small party of men, making their way north, stumbled upon the spot and one picked up the motionless bird. He gasped, "this is it! What we came all this way to find. Look! A snow falcon!" The others gathered round and looked at the wretched little thing.

One said unhopefully, "I think it is dead."

The finder smiled widely, "no, look! He is breathing."

They eagerly claimed the abandoned little creature and gladly turned southward. They had come hunting such a creature as it was sure to make them rich men, but it was considered insane to venture forth on such a quest, for few ever returned. But the chaos further south had made the journey north not seem so mad, yet here at the end of their quest they decided they had had enough. Their pack animals were dropping in hunger and exhaustion, while they themselves were in little better shape. But at least they had found what they sought without encountering worse, which surely lurked farther north.

The little bird soon roused from his comatose state and though surprised, welcomed the food and water his new caretakers urged upon him. By the time they neared civilized lands once more, he was on the verge of health but so too did he find himself in chains. They hooded him when he was not being fed and kept him fettered that he could not escape. He bided his captivity well, knowing that when he was old enough he might change forms and escape and also that his current hosts were much more dependable than his own family had been. Unlike most of his kin, he was very curious about humanity. Finally the rains came and with it the famine dissipated and eventually peace ensued. By this time, the little bird was not quite so little and found himself in the keeping of the greatest King then ruling among men. He also felt himself on the verge of some great change.

The King was eager that his expensive little hobby grow quickly, that he might try flying him all the sooner, but first came a different stage of maturity for this strange creature from the north. One day the fledgling just knew that he had the ability within himself to be other than he was. He waited until dark and all were gone to bed and then he tried. He became a little mouse and was soon free of both hood and jesses. He scampered away triumphantly but nearly made an easy meal for a passing cat. The cat shrieked to be set upon by a dog that had been a mouse not a moment before, and both were chased off by an infuriated servant upset at the din at such an hour.

The dog became a deer and vanished into the woods. The stag pondered his future, should he return home to his people or continue for a time to dwell among men? His own kin had nearly abandoned him to starve and his own brother had tried to murder him. No, he would remain among men and see what the creatures truly were. Then perhaps one day he would return to his own kind once he tired of wandering among lesser creatures. He could perhaps visit the dragons, but they were solitary creatures and more often asleep than not. Unicorns were wise but wary and would know he was not one of them. No, men attracted his fancy, being both intelligent and busy and sociable. There was certainly much to learn about them, especially as to why his own kin despised them so even as he himself felt despised.

Dawn was creeping over the horizon as a braying horn and howling dogs came to his ears; he smiled, for he had become the quarry of the hunt. With a thought, he became a crow and sat unobtrusively in a tree while the hounds passed beneath and whined as they circled and sniffed continually but could track their quarry no longer. The baffled huntsmen moved on and the crow cawed in amusement. There was one determined young lad who seemed reluctant to give up his prey and continued to look about long after his fellows had ridden on. It was an easy task to become a large bear and knock the man from his saddle, but it was not such a wise idea, for the horse panicked and fled while the Akoni felt some regret for assaulting the poor boy so. He had intended no hurt to the lad, only to steal his horse and trappings, but the horse was gone and the boy lay senseless on the ground. The Akoni sighed, took on the form of a boy about the same age, and sat beside the youth until he came to his senses. The boy was not long in coming to and gaped in astonishment at the youth sitting next to him.

The prone boy stammered, "where is the bear?"

The Akoni asked, "what bear?"

The boy's eyes went wide and he lapsed again into darkness. The sound of approaching hooves drew the Akoni's eyes as the hunters returned, having missed the youngest member of their party. They accosted the stranger, "what happened here?"

The Akoni said, "the boy's horse took a fright and left his poor master as you see him. I saw what happened and could not leave him alone." They thanked him for his thoughtfulness and asked after himself. He replied, "I am but a stranger here with nothing but the clothes on my back."

One of the men in the party smiled, "well lad, I am sure the boy's mother will be most grateful for the care you have taken of her son. She is one of the richest ladies in the land and a widow; the boy is all she has left of kith or kin." They welcomed the Akoni into their party and escorted the injured boy to his mother, who was indeed grateful though the Akoni was the instigator of the whole ordeal.

They soon adopted the stranger as a cousin and he and the injured boy, Duncan, were soon fast friends. The Akoni soon discovered that humans required names to tell each other apart and he assumed the name Kite, after the man who had taken him out of the far north, to be his pseudonym, whilst he dwelt among men. He enjoyed immensely the companionship and fun of his newfound brother, something his kin would have greatly disdained, for theirs was an austere and practical life. After a year, Kite felt himself quite an expert on humans, at least on noble sons. He began to wonder if there were not more to life and began to think of leaving.

Duncan, it seemed, was having similar thoughts, perhaps because boys that age, regardless of species, often wonder what adventures life yet holds for them. They spoke together of this growing unease with the status quo and Duncan broached the subject of riding to Astoria, where it was said many a man had made his fortune or found his future. Kite had heard many rumors of this strange city, good and bad, and was quite intrigued by the prospect of finding out the truth for himself. Duncan's mother would prefer her son to remain safely at home but she could deny him nothing, so tearfully bid him farewell and the two lads soon set off for Astoria and the adventures that must surely lurk in that storied land.

Kite was fascinated to discover the Brethren and their peculiar ways. Amongst the Akoni, it was thought man was a fallen creature, beyond redemption or worth, yet the Brethren seemed to think themselves very servants of the Master! And the more Kite attended classes, and watched and questioned these strange creatures, the more he began to believe that the men were right and his own kin were wrong. Duncan stayed on for a year or two but soon tired of life in Astoria and knew his mother was yearning for his return. He spoke to Kite upon the matter, but Kite felt he could not yet leave that strange city. He bid his friend a sad farewell and remained in Astoria as Duncan set out for home. Kite smiled to himself at the pang of sadness that touched his heart at the parting, knowing his kin would think him a weak fool for having such fond feelings for a human!

He sighed and wondered what to do with his own life. He had learned so much and had all of time to memorize the library but he was tired of study and yearned to try his wings, as it were. It had been long since he had taken on his avian form and he knew himself full old enough to be able to fly. He could return to his people but he had come to love these strange creatures and was reluctant to return home to his cold, grave folk. He crept to the battlements one night, took again his falcon form and leapt into the night dark air. He landed on a rocky crag deep within the woods and stared forlornly at the moon, asking questions to which he knew there was no answer.

But there came an answer from a truly marvelous Source. The Master Himself wandered into that rocky glade and asked, "would you forsake your kin and your marvelous native talents to dwell among men? Would you live a mere century or perhaps three, when all of time could be yours to know?"

The hawk cowered before his Maker and said, "I find myself loving these poor creatures more than my own kin and wishing to dwell amongst them as one of their own and not alone, a stranger as I am."

The Master smiled gently, "you have dwelt among them since your childhood and have a heart more akin to their own than to that of your proud and rebellious kind. I intended for your own kin to have such a warmth about them, but they have chosen their own arrogance over Myself and all others. You have dwelt among friendly and loving men, be not fooled for there are others of a darker or colder nature. Do you still wish to dwell among them? I made you as you are, gifted above all other races that walk the earth, but if you wish to serve Me as only men may, then you may have your wish but know your days are now numbered and you have but one form."

The hawk sighed, "let it be as You have spoken, for I will not be content in returning to my own people nor as an outsider amongst those whom I love most, no matter my power or lifespan."

The Master smiled, "then you had best return to the castle ere you must walk back naked!" He was suddenly gone and the Akoni knew his time was short. He raced back to his own room and the moment he entered his silent chamber, he felt himself immortal no more.

Kite found himself a true man and rejoiced in at last finding himself truly a part of the community he had come to love instead of a stranger in its midst. He was not long in joining the Brethren, the life he truly wished to live. He did not regret in the least the trade he had made and for the first time in his life, truly felt as if he belonged. He joined the Messenger sect and was ever to be found undertaking one insane mission or another for the Lady. So it was that many years passed and he was bidden to visit an old friend.

Duncan was now an old man with three sons, each vying for their father's title and lands; he had sent to the Lady for help in settling his household disputes and she had dispatched Kite upon the errand. Duncan was delighted to see his old friend and the matter was quickly settled once the Brother had heard everyone's claims and told them all what their nation's rather confusing and numerous laws said upon the matter. The eldest would claim his father's title while the two younger would gain some inheritance but nothing quite so grand as they had hoped. Duncan was just happy to have peace in his house once more. But it was not to last.

The youngest son, Dennis, was not so easily satisfied and was determined to become rich in his own right, even if he must risk everything to do it. He decided to go north and hunt the legendary Snow Falcon. Kite was astonished at the idea, both at the risk the young man was taking and also at the threat to his former people. He brought his concerns to Duncan but the old man only shook his head, "alas, the boy will do as he pleases."

Kite said firmly, "then I shall accompany him to see that nothing goes amiss for anyone."

Duncan smiled, "thank you for taking such good care of my son."

Kite laughed, "it is the least I can do for all the kindness your family showed to me so many years ago when I was the one in need. But first I must ask leave of the Lady."

Dennis was delighted to have such a companion and eager to see Astoria, of which his father spoke so fondly. He did not go alone for once rumor spread, he soon acquired five friends and distant relations, all eager to make their fortune. The little party soon set off for Astoria and the astonished Lady was not long in giving her blessing to Kite's adventure. Kite was determined to keep the boys from harm and also to keep his own folk from falling into the hands of these well meaning mortals, for they did not know the birds were thinking creatures and a people all their own. It was late spring when they set forth and they knew they must not linger long into the summer lest they find themselves trapped by snow and worse in the far north.

As they rode north, Kite ever felt himself longing for his former life and feeling for the first time regret at his decision. He loved mankind dearly but in his heart he knew he was still an Akoni and wished there was some way to show his people what it was to love and be loved, especially by the Master! As the days wore on, one by one, the boys dropped out and went home until only Dennis and Kite remained upon the adventure. What they had thought would be a joyous lark and instant wealth and renown turned into days of discomfort and tedium with little hope of anything but imminent death by weather, predators, or hunger in that dreadful land. Finally even Dennis' quailing hopes died and he said, "I am ready to go home now."

Kite looked wistfully about him, thinking it nearly the same spot he had been discovered as a chick, "I quite agree."

The unicorn whinnied fearfully as a great bear appeared from nowhere and charged at them with a baleful roar. The boy's horse panicked and threw him to the ground. Kite slid from his saddle, threw the dazed boy aback the unicorn, and ordered the creature to run with all speed and bear the boy home. The unicorn protested but Kite would not be gainsaid. With a resigned whinny he galloped south, the boy was so dazed that he could only hang on, not cognizant enough to know that his father's friend remained behind to confront the great bear, alone and afoot.

Kite knew his idea was insane but he also knew it was the only way to save the boy. This was no bear, in fact he somehow knew that this particular Akoni was also his murderous brother. He said as the bear came within feet of him, "come to finish the job then?" The bear stopped in mid-charge and his jaw dropped in astonishment. Kite stood there unafraid, his sword remained in its sheath as he said, "yes, I know who and what you are. Do not be surprised. And I also know what it was you did in this very spot so many years ago." The bear just stood there and gaped in wonder. The creature smelled like a man, looked like a man, but there was something truly strange about him.

"Yes," continued Kite, "here it was that you thought you murdered your brother. A thing you meant for evil the Master has turned to good."

The bear's slack jaw finally moved as it said, "it cannot be!"

Kite snorted, "you throttled me and left me for dead! But I was not and neither did I perish of thirst, for I was taken by a party of men and have spent the balance of my days amongst them."

The bear snarled, "you have spent so much time among them that you even smell like one!"

Kite said quietly, "I have become one of them."

The bear gaped in horror, "no!"

Kite smiled wistfully, "I did it quite willingly. I have come to like them rather well and have ever felt more welcome among them than among my own kin!"

The bear snarled, "they are a despised and wretched race! Even the Master has forsaken them for their part in his demise."

Kite laughed, "nay, it was the Master Himself that allowed me to become one of them. He calls them beloved and I do not think it wise to dispute one's Maker on such a point. It is our own people that have despised our Maker and all other creatures! Perhaps that is why I have returned, to teach our own wretched race what it is love others?"

"You are as deluded and lost as the entire race of men!" snarled the bear, "And I will not let such contaminated thinking disturb our peace. I did it once and rejoiced at my perceived success. This time I will succeed in my attempt and rejoice all the more!" There was little Kite could do to resist the awful intentions of his brother and this time there was no doubt that he had finished the job.

Kite stood outside of himself, watching his brother amble away in a satisfied manner; the Master stood beside him. Kite sighed, "I did try."

The Master smiled sadly, "child, that is all I ask. It is up to every thinking soul to decide whether it will accept or reject Me. One day your people shall come to their senses, but it will be long in coming and a painful lesson ere learned." He smiled broadly, "come, greater things await." They exchanged an excited smile and vanished from the mortal sphere. Dennis rode sadly home and told his grim tale, and long did the legend live on in Duncan's family with many a child proudly bearing the name of that beloved hero.

### No Greater Love

The sun was not yet risen but the rosy hints of dawn lurked upon the distant horizon and the entire sky was a placid blue-grey in anticipation of its coming. A sliver of moon hung low on the horizon and the delicate silhouette of the poplars stood stark against the fresh snow. Ekron sniffed the air and scanned the horizon looking for the faintest sign of movement. Suddenly a shrill cry of battle rent the still air and a great unicorn stallion came charging out of the stand of poplars, little hindered by the belly deep snow. The young stallion screamed his own challenge and raced to meet his rival. They met, reared, pawed the air, jumped, kicked, dodged, clashed horns, and performed the most graceful dance never witnessed by human eyes.

With sides heaving and sweat freezing on their glossy flanks, they ended their mock battle with the younger bowing his head gratefully to the elder, who whinnied in delight. The young stallion's companions trotted up and commented gaily in their own tongue about their friend's performance while the elder stallion watched in amusement. There had been no real enmity between the two, simply an exercise to prepare the younger for his future and remind the elder of his past and the simple joy of moving. The old stallion whinnied a joyous farewell and vanished in the direction from whence he had come, once more about his own business.

The half dozen young colts watched him go with no little awe, wondering if they would ever gain such wisdom, experience, and respect in the eyes of their own people. He was an old campaigner well over five hundred years old and much respected among his people. The members of the young band were all young males within five years of fifty and had only been away from their mothers' side for a year or two. They would run together, learning of the world and growing in strength and wisdom until each was Called. Once Called, the summoned individual would quietly withdraw and seek out his own fate while the others went on as ever before, and occasionally a newly weaned colt would join them thus keeping their number ever around half a dozen.

Unicorn society was odd when viewed from a human perspective, but then they felt the same of humans. It was a matriarchal society, with related females living together in small bands with their nursing foals. At around fifty years of age, the young colts left and joined a bachelor band such as this until their time of Calling. A filly stayed in her mothers' band until she had borne and raised four or five foals, at which point she might also seek a life of service with one of the Brethren, as the colts did almost from the time of weaning, or remain indefinitely in the Wilds rearing foals if she so preferred. Mature stallions were solitary and protected the wandering bands of mares whose territory overlapped with his, even if he was not father to any of the foals therein. No stallion was considered mature and accepted back into unicorn society until he had served at least three hundred years with the Brethren. Some preferred active service with the Brethren to establishing their own territory and taking their place in unicorn society and were ever in such service until life failed them. The very purpose for which unicorns existed in the first place was to serve as friends and companions to the wandering Brethren in their varied and dangerous quests thus together serving the Master's purposes.

A unicorn had no say in choosing whom they would serve in such a manner; they simply felt a stirring in their heart and off they must go in search of their new companion or deny the impulse and turn rogue. Very few unicorns in the history of all creation had ever fallen into such rebellion but the results were always tragic. It was for this which they were made and in such that they found their purpose and joy. Their relationship to humans was a strange one. To the majority of humanity they were simply a legend and children's tale; unicorns had little to do with ordinary humans and even if glimpsed, were seen as nothing more than ordinary horses, for such was often their guise when wandering in civilized lands. To the Brethren, those humans who had sworn their lives in service to the Master, they were dearest friends and beloved companions, often trading their lives for that of their human partners. In many parts of the world, the Brethren were thought as mythical as their legendary mounts but both continued their service to others regardless of whether or not their efforts were known or appreciated for this was their calling and their very purpose for being.

Ekron was not sure how he felt about such service; he looked forward to that day with dread and dire curiosity. He both greatly anticipated and sorely dreaded that great day when all his immediate future would be revealed to him. It was his whole reason for being but also meant he might well die before his time. He was not sure he was ready to face even the possibility of death even for so noble a cause. He enjoyed life far too much. His companions had made their way out into the heart of the meadow and were frisking in the fresh snow and crimson glory of the morning. He had far too much living to do to die just yet. As if summoned by his thoughts, his heart stirred within him and he knew his time had come. He felt every impulse of his being drawing him south. He snorted in consternation and looked desperately to his friends who were enjoying the morning as only the young can. Rearing, he screamed in both joy and frustration as he charged into the midst of his friends to partake in their rambunctious joy; certainly there could be no danger in waiting at least a little longer before giving up his freedom and risking so much when he had so much living yet to do. His companions could tell he was uneasy, but he was unwilling to discuss his thoughts, and such was the beauty of the morning that their attention was easily drawn elsewhere.

Yorin moved swiftly down the corridor in answer to the Lady's summons; he had only taken his Oath the day before to officially become a member of the Brethren. He had been in Astoria for several years but was only just now old enough to join the Brethren. He wondered what it was that could cause such a venerable women to send for the least of her servants. A servant stood outside her usual audience chamber and admitted the petrified boy, who bowed to the ancient woman seated before him; she nodded regally and gave him a small, sad smile. He stood before her, tense as only a new recruit can be before his much experienced and aged commanding officer. She said quietly, "Yorin I am afraid you must leave us for a time."

The flabbergasted boy asked, "what have I done or left undone that I deserve banishment my Lady?"

She smiled weakly and said, "it is none of your doing. The timing is not to your advantage but things must be as they are. Your mother lies on her deathbed and writes desperately for your return ere she dies. I am granting you a leave of absence to attend to your grief and that of your family, but once the time of mourning has passed I ask that you return to us with all speed to continue your training. This is a delicate and awkward time for you but your family has need of you and I am not so heartless as to deny their request. Have you a unicorn?"

His shock and grief showed plain upon his face and it took him a moment to regain enough composure to answer, "nay Lady, I am quite unattached at the moment."

She nodded grimly, "you will have to set out upon a normal horse then and hope a unicorn shall meet you upon the way. You have my deepest sympathies. May the Master ride with you."

He bowed deeply and very nearly ran from her chambers with tears threatening to spill from his eyes. He found a horse waiting in the stables already saddled; all he needed to do was secure his bulging saddle bags, and he was off with all the speed he dared at the start of such a journey. He rode quickly and within a week arrived at the house he had not seen in four years; the house he had fled in shame and terror. He wondered how his father would receive him and worried that perhaps it was already too late for his poor, dear mother. The farmyard was silent save the occasional chatter of the barnyard fowl pecking about in their endless quest for any speck of spilled grain or unlucky insects. An ancient dog, nearly blind and completely deaf with the years, lay upon the doorstep and raised his head slowly when he finally realized he was not alone save for the chickens. His tail thumped slightly but he dropped his head once more upon his great paws and resumed the nap that consumed the majority of his waning hours.

Yorin stepped over the dog, pushed open the door, and entered the old familiar kitchen where many bitter hours had passed whenever his father was home. A weak voice came from the adjoining room and his heart sank to hear such a feeble query from his mother. Yorin said in feigned cheer, "I am come at last mother." The sound of weeping was the only reply and he hurried to her bedside. His heart eased to see that she was weeping for joy and that his presence brought some life back into her dull, weary eyes.

Her tears subsided and she looked him over boldly, before smiling deeply and saying, "you have certainly grown into a handsome young man my dear child. I am glad you have come, for my time grows short and I would not have it run out without seeing you once more."

He sat there by her bed and told her of all his adventures in the years since their parting. It had been at her urging that he had set off for Astoria one tempestuous night afoot and with nothing but the clothes on his back, four years ago when his father had returned in a drunken rage far worse than the battering rain without. What she had endured at his disappearance he could hardly imagine and had not the heart to ask. His father had a murderous temper at the best of times, thought little of his wife and less of his son, and spent far more time at the tavern than in his own house.

The man had come home late in a terrible temper and had found some small fault with his wife, whom the boy tried valiantly to defend only to garner the wrath of his inebriated sire. The man might have killed the boy had he not fled into the night when his mother caught the evil gleam in his eye; she whispered in his ear the name of a place much beloved and oft dreamed of but never again to be glimpsed by her beautiful eyes. She had been a girl there and fallen in love with a traveling merchant, running away with a man she hardly knew. She soon found herself with child and the man reluctantly married her and settled in this very house. He could never quite forgive the woman for ruining his life as he saw it and blamed the child even more.

As the years passed and he fell ever deeper into self-pity and despair, his drinking habit consumed him and left his family bereft of what little they had ever had of a husband and father. The boy had walked for many long miles, until at last, bedraggled and nearly starving, he finally reached the city of refuge that his mother longed to see once more. He gratefully took his place among the Students and it was not long before he had decided that he wished more than anything else to one day join the Brethren. He finished his tale nervously, by saying, "I hope you can be proud of me mother, for I have joined the Brethren."

She smiled deeply and her eyes twinkled as she whispered, "then you have made a far wiser use of your life than ever did I. You are the only good thing I ever did and I am most certainly proud of you."

He beamed at her words but sobered quickly as he asked, "and what of you since I have been gone?"

She shrugged weakly and the fire in her eyes dimmed again to near lifelessness, saying, "it is much as it always was. Your father is rarely home anymore which sadly in his current state must be seen as a small blessing, at least for my sake. He blames you for most of the miseries in his life and me for the rest. He pities me a little because of my illness, which has spared me the worst of his wrath, yet he cannot bear to look upon me and has fallen into despair and bitterness thus he tries to drown the worst of his sorrows as he always has. I think deep down he does still cares about me. You must not blame him or hold any bitterness towards him, no matter how it might be deserved, it will only cause you to fall into the same pit that has so ensnared him."

Yorin smiled sadly, "I have learned to forgive mother. Coming home was the hardest thing I have ever done but in so doing I have finally laid to rest all my bitter feelings of the past."

She smiled and said, "then I may die in peace knowing your own hatred will not consume you."

He sighed, "it is not hatred mother nor has it ever been. Certainly I have been angry and more deeply hurt than words can say; bitterness was also my companion until I found hope in One greater than myself. But it is pity that has moved in my heart these last sundered years."

"I need none of your pity wretch!" came a thundering and slurring voice from the kitchen. His mother seemed to shrink into herself as Yorin's father stomped into the room and looked derisively at his own son. "Who told you to come back beggin' at my door, boy?" scowled the man.

Yorin stood and said patiently, "mother wrote to hasten my return, saying she was deathly ill. That is the only reason I have come. Fear not, for I shall ride on as soon as I may and shall be no burden to you."

The old man snorted, "they've made a right sissy out of you. I knew you would never amount to anythin'. Stay if you must but you won't be seein' anythin' of me." He turned on his heel with much swaying and withdrew suddenly and violently from the house.

His mother smiled wanly, "that went much better than I had feared. My time is not long dear heart and then you may return to happier climes."

He sat once more and held her hand, saying, "I will miss you mother, is there naught that can be done?"

She smiled sadly and said, "so many years of toil and sorrow have taken their toll upon me child. I have not the will nor the strength to rise from this bed. Death is perhaps an easier road with a happier horizon than I have had in all the terrible years of my later life and I go willingly and peacefully. Do not mourn my son, for we shall meet again in the Master's bright country. Your father thought me a fool for believing such 'tales' as he calls them, he still does, but it is the only bright spot in all these dark and dreary days. I have made mistakes in my life but I know that the Master's blood has atoned for them and He waits to greet me when all my mortal striving is done though I, least of all, deserve such favor." Yorin's eyes were wide at her revelation about her thoughts on death. She smiled weakly and said, "do not think me suicidal lad. It is only that I know my weary years have finally come to an end and that I may finally find the peace and joy that have eluded me since childhood. Can you look down upon me for welcoming such a morning?"

He stroked her wispy hair and said, "nay mother, I can only share your joy in the hope that will come after all your long and bitter years. But know that I shall miss you terribly. Thank you for setting me upon the path of true joy. Though my life began in sorrow, my later years have been blessed with joy and peace."

She smiled once more and they sat long in silence, taking great pleasure in the mere presence of the other. Yorin must have drifted to sleep, for he woke to find the first glimmerings of dawn shining through the window. He looked down upon the peaceful face of his mother, as if she were lost in some sweet dream, but his smile soon became a sob as he saw that she was beyond drawing breath. "Dead is she?" sneered his father from the doorway, "She would've died a month gone had she not been holding out for hope of seeing you. At least she troubles me no longer. You would do well to do the same."

Yorin wiped away his tears and said, "is that all I ever was to you was a burden?"

The man laughed darkly, "finally some understanding! Be useful for once in your worthless life and see to your mother. Then ride off and never look back. I want nothing to do with you or your precious fairy tales." He stomped off into the growing day, leaving Yorin the lonely task of burying his mother.

The man nearly ran from the house once he was sure the boy could not see his desperate haste. He was not sure how he would cope without the old hag, probably the same as he always had. He was so deadened with bitterness and self-pity that there was little room left in his shriveled heart for feelings for aught but himself. He hated the boy, for even the merest sight of him was a painful reminder of his failure as a husband and father. The woman still held some small bit of fondness in his heart, if only the pleasant stirring of half forgotten memory but that was growing dimmer as the years passed and soon she would be forgotten completely. He took his usual seat at the tavern and ordered his usual draught, though the day was hardly begun. A few travelers were finishing their morning meals but otherwise the place was deserted.

Well into his third mug of the local brew, the old man groused, "idiot boy! Why did he have to ride back into my life! Why did that wretched woman ever swoon her way into it either?" He raged on about the idiocy of his son and the pathetic state of his life for all the world to hear. Two strangers sitting nearby exchanged an intrigued look before joining the vociferous man at his table.

"Family trouble eh?" asked the grey bearded man.

The drunken man nodded, "the worst. My idiot son has returned to visit his dying mother, she passed this morning, and he had best ride for parts unknown or I will make him regret it."

Said the short stranger, "he is alone then?"

Yorin's father laughed bitterly, "as alone as me. No one would miss him if the earth should open up and swallow him. It would do us all a favor if it did."

"He has money?" asked the bearded man.

"Bah," scoffed the old man, "he has money enough to ride. What do I care if he has a penny in his pocket? He can starve for all of me."

"Whither is he bound?" asked the short fellow.

The man shrugged, "he rides north as soon as he has seen to his mother's remains."

The two exchanged another significant look and suddenly withdrew from the inn after buying the man another round of ale. He looked around in surprise but quickly forgot his odd visitors as he partook of their generous gift.

Yorin placed the last stone upon the cairn he had erected over his mother's grave. He smiled sadly at her final resting place before swinging into his saddle and turning the horse towards home. He mourned more for his father's blighted soul than for his poor mother; he idly wondered if there was any way to touch his ashen heart. His attention was pulled back to the present as his horse whickered a greeting to the horses on the road ahead. Two ragged men sat their mounts, blocking the road and both held bows at the ready. Yorin wasted no time in turning his horse and putting his heels to its flanks, but the poor beast could not outrun an arrow and the boy soon lay unmoving on the ground. With no one to spur him on, the gelding stopped his flight and curiously sniffed at his unseated rider. The short bandit took the gelding's reins while the bearded man helped himself to anything of value the boy had upon his person. As he searched the prone form, Yorin groaned weakly. They had thought the wound fatal.

The short man laughed, "leave him, he will be dead soon enough. Finish your job before someone finds us."

They shared a laugh and quickly vanished with the horse, Yorin's sword, and his purse. They were conmen, not usually prone to murder, but the situation was too much to resist. True the young fool had very little of value upon him but the horse alone was worth the effort and no one would miss the young rascal as far as they could tell. It was a perfect crime. They swiftly rode off with none the wiser.

Yorin lay unconscious with an arrow in his back, not knowing that a great debate was taking place not far from his prone form. Ekron had emerged from the bushes along the road and stared miserably at the dying boy. He had spent weeks dithering about and enjoying himself, or at least trying to enjoy himself, in various innocent pleasures, but he had discovered that one cannot truly enjoy oneself when one is blatantly ignoring something that must be done. He had finally come south, slowly, for he was not eager for this meeting, only to discover that his procrastination had surely cost the poor boy his life. He could feel the flickering and wavering of the boy's strength as his wounded body struggled to go on with such terrible insults working against its most valiant efforts. He felt a deep yearning to help the boy, as if they had been friends all their lives and now his best and dearest friend was in deepest need. He knew what he could do but did he dare do it? Should he die on behalf of a boy he had never met? Was it his fault that the human child could not keep himself from such mortal harm? Must he rectify the wrongs endured by others?

He looked upon the boy in near panic. He knew his duty but had ignored it. He knew that this tragedy could well have been prevented had he done what he should have from the start. The pitiful creature was no older than himself, nothing but a foal! Did the poor thing deserve death more than he who had delayed when he knew he should make haste? If anyone was in the wrong, it must truly be himself. Had not the Master done the same for all the wandering and rebellious world yet He was without blemish or fault and more so was the Maker of those for whom He had shed His own precious blood. Was not the unicorn made in His very image and was not it their duty, just as much as His, to take the place of those whom they loved more than life itself? Ekron felt a great peace within himself as his harried mind finally submitted willingly to the duties for which he had been born. The greatest gift of the unicorn is the ability to take a mortal wound upon himself and thus spare the life of his dearest friend though at the cost of his own. He was made in the image of the Master and this gift was but the smallest echo of the price paid by the Master Himself for all of his fallen and desperate creatures.

He was about to enact this last noble transaction when he was startled by the faint laughter of a female of the human variety. He laid back his ears at such an uncouth disturbance at such a time but more so for the evil taint that emanated from the woman. She was a shabby creature in her middle years and she did not seem in the least afraid of the legend that stood in his full glory before her nor at all concerned that a dying man lay between them.

She smiled keenly and said, "not yet beastie. I know what you are about though I never thought to meet a unicorn with moral conundrums! Do not look so surprised, I cannot read minds but the struggle was writ plain on your face. If you die in the boy's stead I will drive a dagger into his heart and that will be the end of you both." The stallion screamed in fury and pawed the air but she did not look impressed in the least. She said, "I will however make a deal with you." He eyed her balefully and she took his obvious meaning to be that he would not bargain with such a villain. She sighed, "have it your way beastie but it seems such a waste of life on both your parts. What if I said you could both survive this little debacle?" Now he was curious and she continued, "I have some skill with healing, though my more useful skills will not work much, if at all on the likes of him. I can however devise a more traditional method of cure in this instance. In exchange you must serve me until I release you or I succumb to death."

Ekron glared at her in astonishment that she would make such an offer. She laughed derisively and said, "my meager lifespan is nothing compared to yours and I would put you to no devious use. Having such a fantastic creature in my keeping alone would do much for my reputation amongst those of like profession. You did not wish to die only moments ago, why now is it even an option when you know your sacrifice would be vain? What is a few years compared to eternity after all?"

He looked again at the stricken boy and glared at the witch. He knew she spoke truly yet he could not attack her unless she threatened the boy, which she would not while Ekron lived. It would break his spirit to endure such slavery but he could see no other option. He nodded miserably and she laughed horribly, but wasted no time in keeping up her end of the bargain. She had come upon the scene completely by chance and her devious mind soon devised a plan to make a most interesting use of the situation. She said to the beast, "can you not take on some form more amenable to moving this poor wretch to my cottage?" Ekron nodded glumly and suddenly appeared as a rather shaggy donkey, which knelt down that the witch might place the prone form upon his back. Together they trudged towards her house, the one triumphant and the other miserable. Ekron tried to console himself with the fact that the witch could not live more than fifty more years and that he would then be free of her, but his heart quailed to think of what he must endure in the interim. Slowly his courage failed and his great heart broke in despair, for a unicorn cannot live in chains. By the time they reached the wretched little hovel, the unicorn had become the donkey he appeared.

The witch was not pleased with this unforeseen result of her bargain but it was an interesting turn of events. She would keep her end of the bargain and perhaps she could find some other mischief to wreak once the boy was fully recovered. The wound was ugly but not necessarily fatal, especially tended with her special remedies and uncanny skill. Her dark magics would not work on such a one for their source was the antithesis of the boy's wretched Master but her more traditional medicines might suffice. She had unusual luck with a certain substance derived from a rather common mold in cases such as this: it seemed to have the ability to ward off the wound fever. Within a fortnight he was well on his way to recovery. He was still sore and bruised but he was no longer upon the brink of death. He knew nothing of his host and she said little to him and would not until she was certain he was fully healed. He was curious but so weak that he had no strength for prolonged conversation with someone who was unwilling to speak. Finally the day came when he felt well enough to begin his journey home, for he was quite eager to return to Astoria.

Finally the hag spoke candidly, "leaving already? Are you not more grateful to one who has spared you from death?"

The boy bowed formally and said, "I am deeply grateful for all you have done and if there is something within my power to repay your kindness, please speak that I may know it?"

She laughed at his exceeding politeness and said, "will you not stay on and work for me for a time?"

The boy said reluctantly, "alas dear lady, I am not my own master but am bidden to return whence my duty lies. Is there nothing else you might ask of me?"

She laughed all the more, "you Brethren are all the same, is there never a time when your duty does not come first?"

He looked at her blankly and said quietly, "it is who we are."

She scoffed, "and how were you planning to get back to Astoria? It is a very long walk."

He nodded, "I will walk if I must."

She motioned for him to join her and he followed her curiously to the stable. There was nothing in the ramshackle barn but an old roan cow, a pig, and a shaggy little donkey; Yorin could see nothing to interest his host. Certainly she could not be offering him the services of the poor little beast! She laughed, as if anticipating such a thought but kept silent as he approached the creature. His ears perked up and his eyes brightened in interest but they were as dull as any other unthinking creature's eyes. Yorin could not explain why he felt such a fervent desire to greet the shaggy beast. The witch laughed at his confusion and said, "know you not who this is, or perhaps I should say, was?" He stared at her blankly. She said in confusion, "do you not know your own unicorn when you see him?"

He said in a stricken voice, "I have yet to meet the noble creature."

The woman smiled viciously, "this is him. I came upon him desperate to spare your life with his, though apparently you were strangers at the time. I talked him out of it for I promised to kill you if he did. He agreed to serve me until my dying day if I healed you by more traditional means. I did not anticipate him dwindling so quickly into a common beast of burden but it is as you see. What will you do about the situation?"

Yorin stared at her in disbelief, "how can you be so heartless?"

She mocked him, "how can you be so maladjusted! I am human therefore I am selfish. I care nothing for your endless preaching of selflessness, no one can live like that! I take advantage where I can and so I survive: that is what it is to be human."

He said weakly, "what must I do to free the wretched creature?"

She smiled in anticipation, "would you forsake your Oath for his sake?"

The boy looked stricken but nodded, "I would cease my service to the Brethren if it would free the poor creature."

She shook her head, "no, I mean forsake your beloved Master completely, not just withdraw from the Brethren."

The boy shook his head, "that I cannot do."

She scowled, "very well, if I cannot deny your precious Master your service perhaps I can render it useless. Would you trade your sight for the creature's freedom?"

The boy stared at her in disbelief, "you cannot be serious!"

The hag laughed, "of what use are jokes at a time like this? I am quite serious. If you wish for the brute's freedom it will cost you your eyes. How much does the poor beast mean to you?"

The boy sighed heavily, "of what use can such a bargain be to you?"

She cackled malevolently, "no practical use perhaps but it shall amuse me no end. What say you?"

The boy gave her a desperate look, "is there no other way?"

She crossed her arms, smiled smugly, and firmly shook her head. He looked upon the hapless donkey, wondering how such a magnificent creature could be reduced to so pitiable a state. He could not leave the poor beast to his fate if there was anything within his power to rectify the situation. The sadness and pity upon Yorin's face were soon replaced by grim determination, as he said, "very well witch, let it be as it must." She laughed long and hard and ushered the boy back into the house though he found nothing amusing in the whole ordeal. In the house, the old woman discovered she had a visitor. By the look of him, he was badly in need of something for pain. The disheveled man turned to face them as they entered and his face flushed with sudden anger and utter hatred as he recognized the boy.

"You!" screeched Yorin's father, "Will I never be rid of you? Perhaps this time you shall not be allowed to walk away from the encounter!"

The hag's smile deepened as she looked to the boy and asked, "and what has my charming guest to do with you?"

The man spat as he sneered, "this young cur is regrettably my son and the reason for all the misery in my life. Step aside woman and let me make an end of him."

The woman laughed, "you would kill your own son?"

He nodded grimly with something like madness tingeing his voice, "he has brought nothing but disaster upon his entire family and it is the least he deserves. I let him ride off once but not again; he shall have no second chance."

Her smile deepened as she said, "perhaps it would be better to inflict as much misery upon him as he apparently has bestowed upon you?"

The man glared at her thoughtfully and asked, "how?"

She laughed maliciously and said, "put out his eyes. Let him spend the rest of his days begging in darkness."

His smile echoed hers and Yorin felt an unconscious shiver run down his spine, as he watched his father approach the hearth and withdraw a glowing poker from amongst the coals. He slowly approached the boy, who took a step back until the witch caught his eye; he sighed and stayed his flight. The man laughed villainously, "I like how your mind works witch. Death is too kind a punishment for the likes of him; a long miserable life is just the thing. Stand your ground boy for once in your useless life or worse will come of this!"

Yorin offered no further resistance, save to scream in agony as he fell to his knees, clutching at his ruined eyes after the fell deed was done. An equine scream of confusion, grief, and pain came from the stable and echoed the anguished cry of the boy. The man and the witch stood by and their awful laughter filled the house. The man scoffed, "pathetic wretch, it is the least you deserve. Why did you not offer any resistance? You are nothing but a milksop and an embarrassment to the human race."

The man received no answer, for just then the door banged open and a man rushed in with sword drawn. "What is going on in here?" gasped the stranger as he looked upon the horrible scene before him.

"Put up your sword fool," groused the witch, "you have no legal right to threaten us."

The man's face was white as milk and he brandished his poker as if it might avail him against the stranger's sword. The stranger was aghast, "how can you say that! Look what this fellow has done to the boy!"

The hag laughed all the more, "the boy agreed to the price."

"Price?" asked the stranger incredulously, "What price?"

A nervous whinny came from without and the boy rose shakily to his feet, saying, "help me to the door."

The stranger gently gripped his shoulders and led him to the door, where a dejected and grief-stricken Ekron stood in all his glory, save that he was draped in darkness as if he were in mourning. The boy flung his arms around the great neck and the creature draped his head across the boy's back; they stood silent for several minutes while the full story was told and received though no word was spoken. There was shock and grief and remorse and horror, which was soon covered and forgotten in the love and forgiveness that flowed between them. The unicorn whickered contentedly, at long last at peace within himself and the ubiquitous glow, common to his race in their natural form, once again surrounded him. The others looked on in astonishment and confusion.

Once the boy drew his attention away from his much troubled friend, there was a sound of ripping cloth and the stranger handed him a thin strip torn from his tunic, to cover his vacant eyes. He then intoned, "will someone please tell me what has transpired here?" The boy sighed and told the full tale, including Ekron's part in it. The stranger nodded grimly and stared in disbelief at the hag, who seemed to be enjoying the situation immensely.

Yorin's father suddenly dropped his poker in disbelief, shock was written strongly upon his face, "there can be no such love! You cannot be serious! You did not even know the beast yet you were willing to endure blindness for his sake? What have I done? What have I done? I thought you were the weak one in the family and the cause for all my wretched years, but now I see that you are stronger than ever I could be and I myself am to blame for all the misery endured not only by myself but also you and your poor mother. How can such a thing be?"

The stranger clapped the boy on the back and said, "because the Master first did such a thing for us, that by trusting in Him we might also do the same for others."

The man could only shake his head in confusion and look desperately at the boy, who could not see the pain written in his father's eyes. "Can you forgive me lad?" begged the man, "Not only for your eyes but also for everything you have endured at my hand?"

The boy smiled weakly and said, "I forgave you long ago. Now you must forgive yourself and be willing to let the Master do the same."

The man was amazed, "he would forgive such as I?"

The boy laughed joyfully, "if you will let Him."

The boy's flabbergasted father bid him farewell and went off with the stranger, who happened to be one of the Brethren, who had been passing through when his unicorn had alerted him to Ekron's disquiet and they came to investigate. The man spent the next several days listening in wonder to the Brother's many tales and for the first time in his life finally felt at peace within himself. He succumbed not long after to the carnage that so many years of hard living had wrought upon his body, but it was not without hope that Yorin buried his father next to his mother. Yorin returned to Astoria, and though blind, became one of the greatest Philosophers of his day. Ekron could not restore his friend's sight but he could act as his eyes whenever they were together and in this way, Yorin was able to get around with much ease despite his lack of vision.

### No Such Thing as Accidents

Dawn had crept over the eastern horizon, and after a fury of red and purple, had settled into the more common blue as it draped the morning sky. A pair of students hurried across the courtyard of the castle on their way to the stables in preparation for their morning riding class but suddenly the pair stopped dead and their eyes grew wide at the sight before them. A man lay unmoving at their feet with his neck bent at an impossible angle. They stared for a moment in horror at the corpse and then began looking frantically left and right, wondering how he met his end. Suddenly a voice called from above, drawing their desperate eyes, "easy lads! A terrible way to start the morning I am sure, but certainly nothing sinister in it. Simply an accident, a dreadful one no doubt, but still an accident."

The boys began to understand, for one of the guards upon the castle wall was the speaker and the man at their feet was clad in similar garb. An accident?! The poor soul must have fallen and broken his neck last night as he stood watch. Even as this horrible contemplation made its way through their minds, a hustle and shuffle of many anxious and hurried feet and voices came from the direction of the castle.

The Lady of Astoria herself emerged with various of her servants in tow to view the grim scene. She looked surprised for a moment to see the students standing there but covered it quickly and said in a voice full of gentleness, "I am sorry you two stumbled upon our tragedy this morning. Are you able to handle such a shock?"

The boys bowed deeply and Jeremy stuttered nervously, "it is quite unsettling Lady but we shall be well." Makkin, his compatriot, nodded enthusiastically.

She nodded and said, "then you had best get to your class for you are already late." The pair exchanged a horrified look and then dashed for the stables. She smiled sadly at their hasty departure and then turned once more to the matter at hand. "What exactly happened?" asked she of the man yet standing above.

He bowed deeply and said, "Lady, I have never heard the like. Hoven stood at his post all night, occasionally walking up and down as we all do from time to time. And then this morning, I heard a stumble and a voice raised in surprise and then a great thud and things are as you find them."

She looked again at the prone form and asked almost to herself, "is it simply an accident?"

The guard bowed again and said, "Lady, I can see no other explanation."

She nodded absently, but found nothing in her study of the body. Having finished her inspection, she motioned for four of those beside her to carry on with the usual proceedings after such an occurrence. They reverently lifted their fallen comrade and carried him quietly from the castle for burial. The Lady wore a look of vexation. It appeared quite innocent but she felt there must certainly be something missing. She hated mysteries, especially those that resulted in the demise of one of her servants. She did not believe in accidents but what else could it be? She shook her head in mystification and said to all those that remained about her, "I do not see how it can be other than it is, but let us be wary lest such happen again." They nodded and all went back to their regular duties on this most irregular of days.

Once the Lady and her retinue were gone, the boys led their horses out into the courtyard and made their way out of the city and towards the area used for the equine portion of their training. They soon glimpsed those bearing the dead man in the distance and Makkin asked, "what can they be doing way out there?"

Jeremy laughed grimly, "these Brethren are quite strange about death. Where a King or great warrior would have many thousands of mourners and days of observance and ever after a monument would stand upon the place of their interment, these Brethren seem to prefer an unmarked grave and as few witnesses as possible; as if they were ashamed of the whole thing! What glory is there in death if you cannot at least be remembered for a week or a day?"

Makkin mused, "but then perhaps they do not see death as you and I: a final stopping of everything useful and vital. Do they not think that greater things lie beyond? Would it not be to their thinking like laying aside a worn garment to take on something fully new and wonderful? And whoever pays heed to abandoned rags? I think I begin to understand their burial ritual if not exactly their ideas about death. What I do not understand is such an ignoble end!"

Jeremy replied, "that too has been bothering me. These men have dedicated their hearts and souls to serving a cause greater than themselves and to have it end in such a wretched fashion. It certainly makes me doubt the sovereignty of their so-called Master. How can he reign supreme if he treats his dearest servants in such a deplorable fashion? It is one thing to die in a valiant cause but by sheer accident? It makes no sense."

Their contemplations were cut short as they arrived upon the riding grounds and stunned their Teacher when she asked why they were late. The look of shock upon her face was confirmation enough to the boys that the man's fate had been most unusual and unsettled his comrades greatly. After the lesson, they were the center of attention as they regaled their fellow students with the tale on the ride back to the city. By the time the noon meal rolled around, the Keep was buzzing with rumor and speculation, at least among the students and servants. The Brethren could only scratch their heads in wonder. It made no sense whatsoever. The man had been in the Lady's service for nearly twenty years and had stood watch at that particular place hundreds of times. What really happened? The question set the keep afire with speculation, each theory becoming wilder and weirder than the last. Had he been attacked by unknown and unseen enemies? Perhaps poisoned? Was it suicide? Perhaps he had a dark past that finally caught up with him or had he been on the brink of perpetrating some dark terror? Was there someone with a grudge or a jealousy or an old hatred? Was it an assassin and if so who would be next?

The students were buzzing with excitement and a modicum of fear as they wondered if it was not just the beginning of darker things to come. They had little attention to spare for their studies and their teachers were at a loss as to how to refocus their attention. To the Brethren, it was always a grievous day to lose one of their comrades, especially for so odd a reason but they trusted that there was a plan and a purpose in everything even if they could not see it themselves. They tried to pass this wisdom on to their young charges but to no avail, for they were far too excited by the mystery to content themselves with patient acceptance and go on faithfully with their duties. Jeremy and Makkin became the center of attention as they told and retold the tale, always looking for some new angle or detail that might shed some light on the subject but all their speculation produced nothing but wild rumor. The topic of each class that day suddenly became the strange happenings of that morning regardless of how hard the instructor tried to teach the lesson of the day and calm the over exuberance of their students.

Finally, classes were canceled and the students gathered in the dining hall to hear the Lady herself speak on the matter. They listened with eager anticipation as she began, "I know this morning's tragedy has shaken us all to the core. Some have called it an accident, but there are no accidents." At this the students erupted in a roar of whispers, for if it was no accident it must be foul play. The Lady calmed the audience and continued, "neither was it murder. A man fell to his death and that is the end of it. The reason I cannot comprehend but I am certain there was a reason in it. We must trust the Master that this, as in all things, is safely in His keeping. Let there be no more wild stories or tall tales. Resume your appointed tasks and let us not find ourselves distracted by futility."

She bid them adieu and then the deafening silence became an uproar. That was it? That was all to be said upon the matter? What were the Brethren hiding? The plot only seemed to thicken. With only an hour left before the evening meal, the students were dismissed early and a select group used the unexpected free time to barricade themselves deep in the recesses of the library where they could speculate undisturbed. Makkin and Jeremy of course were the ringleaders. "Now what?" asked one of the half dozen students in the little group.

Jeremy smiled and said, "we must thoroughly investigate this incident, regardless of what the Brethren say upon the matter. There must be something more sinister, or at least more interesting, than that the man stumbled and broke his neck. What was he hiding or what are his masters hiding? Is there a more sinister plot afoot?"

They broke into three pairs, each with their own task. One pair would investigate the Brethren's records regarding the man himself and any related incidents. Another pair would search the murder scene (for they were by now fully convinced that it must be something more sinister than a simple fall). And Jeremy and Makkin would examine the man's mortal remains. They scattered to complete their tasks before curfew, though the pair sneaking from the city to exhume the body was probably going to have to spend an evening outside the castle, which only added to the excitement.

"Are you sure about this?" groused Jeremy as they made their way out of the city.

Makkin replied, "it must be done, besides, the man is dead. He really is not going to care all that much."

They draped themselves in dark cloaks and made their way into the crowds leaving the city and returning to their farms and villages for supper. They were soon beyond the city gates and walking quickly in the direction the burial party had traversed that morning. Night soon fell upon them but the moon was full and the stars bright. Jeremy clutched a lantern to be lit only when absolutely necessary. They borrowed a spade and a shovel from a farmyard as they passed and vanished into the woods where they had last caught sight of the pall bearers that morning. The grave was not hard to find and the moon gave ample light in the little clearing. The fresh turned earth yielded easily to their efforts and soon they were once again face to face with the doomed man. It was a little eerie standing there in the pallid light of the moon with the staring corpse as the wind howled through the depths of the forest.

"We had better get on with it," said Makkin with a tremor in his voice.

Jeremy sighed, "I am not sure this was such a great idea! But we have already come this far so we had best get it over with."

With a shudder, they pulled the dead man out of the grave and made a careful examination of himself and his pockets but found nothing. With a sigh of relief they returned the man to his grave and hurried away from the violated resting place. Jeremy sighed, "I really do not wish to endure that again, ugh!" Makkin nodded his agreement. They were covered in dirt, jumpy after the morbid affair, and their consciences were uneasy within them.

Makkin said, trying to change the subject, "let us just hope the others have a more successful evening. Can we get back into the city do you think?"

Jeremy laughed ruefully, "covered in grime and out well after when a student should be safely inside? I think not! We are stuck out here until morning and will have to sneak back in before breakfast and hope no one asks silly questions."

Night crept on and the boys returned their pilfered shovels from whence they had come and tried to find a comfortable spot to spend the night, but it was still early enough in the year to be chilly and sometime after midnight a cold rain began to fall. They huddled together dejectedly under a tree and tried to stay warm but it was the most miserable night either had ever spent. The wind strengthened and howled in the depths of the forest like a soul bereft of hope, causing their uneasy hearts to dread even more the thought that they had violated a grave, speculating wildly about the consequences attendant thereunto. In that dark and wild night, all manner of dreadful stories and thoughts came unbidden to their minds, especially after their night's work and the wild speculation of the previous day. Any manner of monster, ghoul, or human terror could be lurking just beyond sight, waiting to devour such infidels as they had proved themselves to be. They began to understand how men alone in the wilderness could see and hear things that were not there and imagine horrible creatures beyond description.

So it was that morning found them, cold, soaked to the bone, and terrified beyond words. They stood wearily and crept back into the city. But the difficulty would be in gaining entrance to the castle without arousing suspicion, but their poor addled minds and terrified hearts cared little about anything save getting away from that haunted forest and back amongst those of flesh and blood, no matter how much trouble it got them into. They stood outside the gates and the guards eyed them curiously, but they recognized the bedraggled pair and allowed them to pass unhindered.

They escaped to their room and quickly cleaned up and made it in time for breakfast where their coconspirators were waiting eagerly. The search of the murder scene had yielded nothing of interest and had earned the pair involved a reprimand that they had best go back inside and abide by the Lady's words of the previous day. The pair who had scoured the library reported that the man had been a student some twenty years ago, had done well in his studies, and had joined the Brethren without incident and had served faithfully until his untimely demise. There was no record of where he had come from or why he had come, which aroused the curiosity of all gathered as most of the other people mentioned in that particular history at least had a country of origin, if not a more precise biography. They had scoured the annals of the Brethren's history and found no other similar accidents or murders, though there had been a few of the Brethren that seemed to have fallen afoul of bandits or weather or pestilence but none had fallen off a wall and failed to rise.

What was the man's past that they did not reveal it in the histories and who wanted to keep it a secret so desperately that they would kill the man to do it? The speculation only became worse, Jeremy and Makkin especially were nearly desperate to prove that there was a good reason they had suffered through such a night as they had. They were determined to take this to the Lady herself if they must, which it seemed they would, as a servant came to fetch them immediately after breakfast. They made their bows and stood before her, nearly petrified with fear but also burning with curiosity. Her eyes held disappointment and anger, upon seeing this their knees began to quake. She said calmly, but emotion was strong by its absence, "what were you two doing last night while all sensible folk were abed?" They exchanged a mortified look but felt confession necessary if only to quiet their seething consciences. Makkin told the entire tale and she seemed mollified and even somewhat amused. She said, "it seems, my dear grave robbers, that you have seen fit to punish yourselves with such an uneasy night. But if such a breach of the rules happens again I am afraid I must ask you to leave Astoria." The boys exchanged a horrified look and she continued, "and I would ask that you lay this matter to rest."

Jeremy could contain himself no longer and blurted out, "but Lady we must know the mystery."

She was surprised at his intrepidness but not displeased and said, "what mystery?"

Jeremy continued, "why did this man have to die? What is the true reason? Why is there no record of his origins or reasons for being in Astoria? I must know ere I go mad!"

She laughed then and said, "is that all? Is this why you would dare my displeasure? There is no conspiracy child! An unfortunate incident occurred and that was the end of it. It seems the height of ignominy that such dedicated men could die of plague or be murdered by bandits for the content of their pockets or fall from a height and die, but such happens to all men regardless of their station. It is part of this fallen world we live in yet we must trust that the Master will set it all to rights one day. Why does a child take ill and die? Why does a thief manage to escape justice? This I do not know but I trust it to Him who does and you would be wise to do likewise.

There is no conspiracy or plot, neither are we or our deceased comrade hiding anything. If there is a reason in it, the Master is well aware of it. It is not for a King to reveal his deepest plans to his servants nor a mother to tell all her reasons to her little child, but yet the servant must trust his master and the child his mother. We must be content with what the Master chooses to reveal, trust faithfully that He will watch over the rest, and do as we know we must in His continued service. If you believe not in the Master, then you must believe in pure chance. Either way, the reason is beyond mortal comprehension and you waste your time and energy in speculation when you should be attending to your studies!"

Jeremy sighed, "but Lady, why has this man no history?"

Said she, "if he has no recorded history it is because either he chose not to tell us about it or no one took the time to write it down."

"It is not fair!" blurted Jeremy in agony, trying to grasp desperately at something, anything that might redeem his seemingly lost cause.

She smiled sadly and said, "child, nothing in this life is fair. It is very often unjust as well, but trust in the Master and though His ways may not seem 'fair' to our reckoning you can trust Him to ever be just, gracious, and merciful. Now are you content or are we to have further dealings in this matter?"

They exchanged a resigned look, nodded contritely, and mumbled together, "we are finished, Lady."

She smiled warmly and said, "then I pray you use this experience to learn that digging into areas where you have been forbidden to go often only results in disaster or disappointment. You may go. If you have any further desire to explore this topic, I ask that you consult me first in the future." They nodded their agreement, bowed, and darted from the room. Their little cohort found them not long after and asked after their interview.

Makkin sighed, "we promised the Lady to drop it and I begin to think she is right, that if there is a reason, it is beyond mortal comprehension."

Said one of the disappointed students, "but how can their beloved Master let such a thing happen to his dedicated servant?"

Jeremy snorted, "because he lets it happen to men in all walks of life. Just because it is senseless to us does not mean there is no purpose in it."

"What are you talking about?" asked one skeptical boy.

Makkin exchanged a grin with his friend and said, "I think I begin to see his point."

"I do not understand," complained another boy, "what has all this been about?"

"It is about faith," said Jeremy, "faith to know that regardless of what happens around us, no matter how senseless it seems to you and I, there is a will and a plan greater than ours. When we sat alone in the woods last night, I was terrified to think what might be out there in the dark and the wind. I had nothing greater than myself and my terrors to cling to. It was the worst night of my life! I felt so utterly alone and wretched and knew I needed something or someone to cling to that was greater than myself, greater than my fear, and greater than the dark."

Makkin added, "we got so excited over rumors and suffered so much for absolutely nothing! That is what our teachers have been so vainly trying to tell us! That without the Master, our greatest aspirations and dreams are nothing! For something to matter and to endure it must have roots in something greater than this fleeting and broken mortal world."

The other students exchanged a horrified look and one of their number spoke with a tremulous voice, "you have not actually started to believe have you?"

The pair so accused exchanged a delighted smile and Jeremy nodded, "I suppose we have."

"And that perhaps is the point of this entire exercise," said a Voice overflowing with joy and amusement behind them, "or at least part of it."

Six pairs of eyes suddenly darted to the source of the voice but saw nothing, save perhaps a flash of light, but they knew in their hearts that there had been something or rather Someone there and at least two of those hearts desired nothing ever after than to hear that Voice speak once more in approval of their actions. The others were never quite sure if there was something there or if it was just a figment of their overtaxed imaginations.

Of Poets and Heroes

The screams of horses and men filled the evening air with a chaos and horror ill-suited to the loveliness and quiet of the fading day. Two of the beasts faded away as they fell dead and the third trapped his master beneath his prone form. The trapped rider was himself uninjured save perhaps in the fall, but several arrows had embedded themselves in his two companions and their fallen mounts; of the two, one lay unmoving and was likely dead, the other moved feebly but hope dawned as he caught the trapped man's eye. They stared at one another for a moment, the one with growing hope and the other with a rising fear. The crunch of oncoming feet suddenly drew their attention as their foes approached. His eyes pleading for help, the arrow stricken man suddenly threw some small object into the distant brush and glanced significantly from the now hidden object to his trapped companion, whose eyes held reluctance and fear, but a minimal nod of his head brought the shadow of a smile to the stricken man's face before their enemies were upon them. A small band of vile looking men emerged from their ambush and looked about in delight at the carnage they had wrought. One of them turned over the unmoving man to reveal that nothing remained but a corpse.

Another approached the hopeful man and called out, "this one's alive and should suit our purposes well enough. Be done with him." One of the more vile of the company smiled in cruel anticipation, drew his sword as he approached, and finished that which the arrows had begun. His eyes widened momentarily in pain and then stared blankly as the sword was withdrawn from his unmoving chest. The whole group of them then approached the sole survivor yet trapped beneath his dead horse.

Said the leader of the repulsive band, "are you one of the Brethren then?"

The trapped man laughed mirthlessly, "I am simply an ill-fated poet who hoped to write the tale of some great heroic effort but alas, all I shall ever write is a lament to the foolishness of heroic quests if ever I write anything again."

"Yes or no," snarled the leader.

The poet winced at his tone and said, "I am not one of that fellowship."

The man grinned cruelly and asked, "then why do you ride with them?"

Taking on a professional air, the poet said, "as I have already related, I hoped to write a firsthand account of whatever adventure my late companions hoped to accomplish. I fell in with them not quite a week ago."

"You know nothing of their mission?" queried the leader in some amazement.

The poet sighed, "I only knew they were bound for Kyra on some desperate quest; I do not think even they knew their appointed task but hoped to find some contact upon our arrival."

The sinister man said, "how were they to make contact?"

The poet shrugged, "they took that secret to the grave."

The leader did not seem pleased, "then I have no further use for you." The poet nodded grimly as the sword was raised again, but the leader suddenly laughed, "I however like the idea of a lament against all for which the Brethren stand. I will spare your life poet but only for the promise of your work. Write well, for if you do not it might well be the last thing you do. Search them and their luggage, then we ride for Kyra." The despots ransacked the living and the dead, but found nothing of interest. They vanished as quickly as they had come, leaving the trapped poet to somehow extract himself from beneath the dead horse. He painfully managed to pull himself from beneath his ill-fated mount, searched the vegetation concealing whatever it was his companion had hoped to hide, and finally discovered a small blue crystal cut in the shape of a star suspended from a satin ribbon of deepest blue. He looked over the trinket and wondered to whom it might belong and how he was to discover its keeper and his destiny.

He sighed, he was no hero. He sat heavily down upon the dead horse, thinking about what had transpired in the last week to so utterly upset the course of his life. He had been a wandering poet who roamed from place to place and entertained as he could to keep his stomach full and a roof over his head. The commonfolk seemed to appreciate his efforts, at least enough that he did not starve. A week gone, the two adventurers had stumbled into the same inn where he was holding forth with his familiar evening oratory. They had listened appreciatively and once the night's entertainment was finished, invited him over to their table for a mug of ale and some much needed conversation. They had struck up a lively conversation, all three being of a quick and learned mind, and had stayed up long past the time all sensible men were in bed. He had asked after their own travels and their tales amused and amazed him. Whether it was the late hour or the wine, the poet never knew but he soon found himself asking if he might not accompany them on their adventure. They exchanged a curious look and finally agreed that he could come, but that there might come a time when they might suddenly have to part company. There was some hint of imminent danger and intrigue, but then no story was complete without such so the poet readily agreed.

So it was that he found himself riding with them to the Southern Realms towards the kingdom of Kyra, whose monarchy was suddenly in disarray and from whence had come a desperate note and the trinket that he now held in his hand. No one knew who had sent it, but only that it must be presented to the guards at the castle gates in the great city of Yorka. The owner claimed that the very fate of the country might rest upon this quest and help was needed soon. Kipril shuddered, wondering what strange adventure he had now become a participant in. He looked upon his dead companions and his silent promise to the dying man echoed in his mind.

He had ever been an observer of life, a recorder of its wonders and perils, never a participant and now it had been thrust upon him. He was ill-suited to such an adventure, not having wielded a sword since his youth and then only poorly, but there was no one else to whom this adventure could fall. He must at least attempt it, if only for the sake of the imperiled people of Kyra. He sighed heavily, stood, and began to salvage what he could from the wreckage. He filled his saddlebags with food and supplies, took up his bow, and then glanced at his fallen companion's sword. He was perhaps not as skilled with the weapon as some, but it might be useful in his quest. Almost reverently, he took up the weapon for which his companion had no more mortal use. In the gathering dark, he took to the road and hoped to put many miles between himself and the sorrow behind him.

Kipril awoke early and crawled from the small dell in which he had taken shelter for the night. He walked as fast and as far as he could that day, knowing full well that his quest was a hopeless one unless he soon acquired some swifter means of transportation. Evening was falling and the lights of an inn ahead drew his weary gaze. He felt that hope waited within, even if it was nothing more than an hour's repose from the weary and lonely road he walked. He took a seat, ordered a mug of a nameless brew, and glanced about at his fellow patrons. He saw nothing but farmers and merchants until his eyes fell upon a young woman just entering the inn. She was well dressed and moved like a cat, making him wonder if she was not some minor noble's daughter set out in search of adventure. Perhaps here was a chance to foist this foolish quest off upon someone else. She caught his gaze and curiosity drew her to the stranger's table. He bought her a mug of his own nameless ale and she asked, "whither is your road sir and what quest lies at its end?"

He laughed in spite of himself and said, "it seems I am not the only lonely adventurer upon the road. I am currently walking to Kyra, as my mount and companions have fallen upon the way, but I shall not make it in time at the pace I currently set. What of you fair lady?"

She smiled at his words and said, "I too am upon a noble quest though perhaps one far less dire. I ride for fabled Astoria and seek there to join the Brethren. Are you perhaps one of those storied knights who has ridden forth in noble pursuit?"

Kipril could not help but laugh, "lady, I am simply a wandering poet that has had unwanted adventure thrust upon him, for there is none else to carry on the task which my late companions had begun. They were of that noble calling but alas they have fallen by the way."

She smiled curiously and said, "then at least your quest is a vital one and perhaps your heart nobler than you know. Perhaps I can aid those I hope to be my benefactors ere I ride to their country. If walking is too slow a pace, then let me lend you a horse upon the way."

Kipril smiled gratefully and said, "that would be a great ease to my journey but I am still unworthy of this task. I have a borrowed sword but little skill with it. Could I beg your aid as well for I see you are not yourself unarmed?"

She smiled gaily at him and said, "I was afraid you would turn me away for I am a woman, but I shall joyfully aid your task. What is it we must do?"

Kipril laughed, "I know almost as little as you but I shall gladly accept your company. I have only a token to show at the gates of the castle and there our adventure may perhaps begin."

Alia soon told her story of how her father, a minor noble, had given her the choice of a loveless marriage or taking her small inheritance and forever leaving his presence. She would not doom herself to such a grim fate and thus took her pittance and left behind all that she knew and loved. She had heard many strange tales of the Brethren in her youth and set out in search of the mysterious adventurers of song and story. She was eager to take part in a story of her own, even before ever she reached Astoria.

By common agreement they were saddled and upon the road ere the sun was up and it was not many days before their hurried pace brought them within the borders of Kyra and soon to the castle in the midst of the bustling city of Yorka. Kipril left Alia at an inn in the city that he might approach the gates alone. If he should not return, she was to make her own careful inquiries and if he discovered the nature of their adventure, he would swiftly return to tell the tale. Both knew well the cost of this errand might well be their lives, but Kipril pressed on out of duty and Alia in hopes of righting some wrong. The streets of Yorka were abuzz with the recent demise of the King in a hunting accident, the ascension of his brother to the throne, and the impending birth of the late King's child and hoped for heir. What part the dark men would play in the matter was yet to be seen. Kipril approached the castle gates and proffered the charm to the guards posted there. They eyed the trinket with some curiosity but could not decide if the man was trying to sell it or simply asking after its owner.

A servant stationed nearby however gasped and said, "this man must immediately accompany me." The guards glanced in wonder at the man, who had silently stood watch for so many days and now finally spoke. They nodded grudgingly, but this was a personal servant to the Queen and not to be questioned nor gainsaid. They let the man pass and the servant led him deep into the castle to the private chambers whence the Queen had withdrawn to mourn her husband and await the birth of her child. It was she that had sent the urgent message and who now desperately awaited its answer.

Kipril was astonished to be presented before so distinguished a personage and was speechless for a moment as he made his bows. She smiled deeply and a glint of hope shone in her troubled eyes as she said, "so the Lady has sent my savior at last."

Kipril blushed crimson and studied his feet, saying, "I am no hero lady but a simple wanderer who has taken up a quest whose true heroes have already fallen in its course. I will do what I can, but I am no warrior but a poet."

She nodded sadly and said, "then to you, my brave poet, will the duty fall. This then is my plea: if a male child should be born, to Astoria you must bear the infant in safety and secrecy, there to await the day when he can challenge his uncle for the throne of Kyra. For only a man can sit upon Kyra's throne and this child is the only one with a rightful claim, save my brother-in-law who has already taken the title of King upon himself. He was ever jealous of my husband and his demise was no accident though such is claimed, and if an heir should be born my son will not live long past his birth. But should a girl child be born, she is no threat to his rule and we may depart in peace to my family's estates and he is forever free to rule Kyra as he sees fit."

"When is the child due?" asked Kipril awkwardly.

She smiled and said, "any day. I had hoped for your arrival sooner due to the legendary swiftness of unicorns but alas your mounts are mortal horses." As if in answer to his question a wince of pain crossed her face as she said, "perhaps even today!" The Queen winced again as she said, "I think that you arrived only just in time. Tonight will reveal whether your quest is a vain one."

Her ladies escorted her to her chambers, the midwife was fetched, and Kipril was left in the sitting room with a silent servant. The night passed slowly and only occasional sounds of pain and frustration came from the adjoining room to break the silent vigil. Finally the unmistakable cry of an infant was heard and not long after it was repeated. The midwife rushed out all in a flutter and beckoned in the man who had waited so long; the Queen wished to see him without delay. He made a rather flustered bow and she smiled tiredly at his discomfiture. She said, "twins!" He looked at her in anticipation as she continued, "a boy and a girl, of course the boy's birth shall remain an absolute secret and you shall bear him to safety until the appointed time. Are you ready to ride?"

He said, "I need only fetch my confederate and my luggage from a nearby inn and then we shall leave at once."

"Confederate?" asked the Queen.

Kipril said, "a young woman I met by chance upon the way, who was on her way to Astoria and agreed to this slight detour."

The Queen smiled, "excellent, a man traveling with an infant would arouse suspicion. I do not think your encounter chance, young man. Why did she not accompany you?"

Kipril said, "this mad adventure has already cost two men their lives. I was concerned about pursuit and did not want both of us to fall afoul of some unknown foe ere we knew our errand. She remained behind in case something happened to me."

The Queen said, "you have acted wisely. Return to your inn, pack your things, and come to the small gate the servant shall show you as quickly as you can. Haste will ensure secrecy."

He bowed again, met the servant in the adjoining room, and followed him on a twisting path out of the castle. They emerged in a dark alley, the small door shut silently behind Kipril as he dashed off in search of his inn. He had just stepped out into the main street abutting the alley when he felt a sharp pain in his abdomen. He clutched at the wound, his knees buckled and he fell to the ground in agony; the air was filled with strangely familiar and sinister laughter. The dark voice said, "I told you to leave well enough alone boy! This is the price of meddling in business not your own. Who did you meet within the castle and to what purpose?"

"That I shall never tell," groaned the stricken man.

"We shall see," snarled the sinister voice, as the man dashed off to investigate where the meddler had been.

Kipril struggled to his feet, holding his hand to his wounded side; he dashed off in a stumbling run towards the inn. Alia gasped when she saw who the ashen faced man was who nearly fainted as he entered the door of the inn. She had been speaking quietly with a man in the uniform of the Brethren. Both ran to aid the injured man on the verge of collapse. "What happened?" she gasped.

Kipril glanced about nervously, "we must talk quickly and privately. There is no time." They wasted no time in helping him to sit on the edge of the bed in one of the guest rooms. Once they were alone, he said, "as you know there are rumors about that the late King was murdered by his brother who made it look like a hunting accident. The Queen was concerned for the safety of her unborn child, should it be a boy and potential heir to the throne. If the child was a male, she wished one of the Brethren to carry him safely to Astoria to wait until he came of age to challenge his uncle for the throne. The Queen gave birth tonight to twins, a boy and a girl. She will withdraw quietly to her estates with the girl and waits for us to bear her son to safety. Alia, you must meet the servant at a small side gate and take the infant to Astoria."

"What about you?" whispered she.

Kipril drew back his tunic from the wound and said grimly, "I am in no condition to travel nor do I think I shall long survive this wound. One of the men who ambushed my late companions fell upon me as I was leaving the castle. He must have seen me go in and waited for me to come out. He attacked me, questioned me, and then ran off to see what I would not tell him. He will be on the watch so you must be careful."

The Brother spoke for the first time, "these are grim tidings indeed. I am the Lady's Advisor to the King, or I was until the new King banished me from the castle, save for court functions, which is why I now haunt this inn. The child must reach safety at all costs. Take my mount, he will bear you swiftly and safely to Astoria."

Alia's eyes were wide, "me, ride a unicorn?"

The man nodded grimly, "I cannot accompany you, for I am needed here and neither is your friend in any condition for such an adventure. It must be you. Go, and may the Master ride with you." She nodded grimly, bid farewell to her companions, and dashed from the room.

"Will she make it do you think?" asked Kipril of the other man. He only shook his head in wonder and helped make the stricken man as comfortable as he could.

Alia rode swiftly towards the small gate, astonished at the speed and silence of her mount. He was reluctant to abandon his master, but he knew this task was of the utmost importance. They arrived swiftly and nearly unseen, for the unicorn had draped himself in darkness. Alia knocked upon the gate, it was opened by a cautious servant, she showed the crystal star as instructed, and soon received the child into her keeping along with those things that might prove his identity at the proper time. They dashed off together into the night bound for Astoria. Not far out of the city, the unicorn stopped and whinnied in fear, but his master bid him run all the harder and he could not disobey. Some time after he screamed in rage and grief but continued on his course, faithful to his master's last command.

The dark man left his injured foe and ran off into the darkness to see from whence he had come. He could not yet gain access to the castle and could learn nothing more upon a second investigation. He dashed back to find his nemesis fled and followed quickly after. Not long after the girl had left, the dark man burst through the window of the room in which his quarry lay helpless upon the bed. He had not expected to find one of the Brethren within, but all the better! The two men whirled about in a dance of death and steel while Kipril watched wide-eyed from the bed. The two were fairly evenly matched and it was hard to tell who had the upper hand. The dark man snarled in glee as he clipped his opponent on the shoulder and knew his victory was assured, but in his moment of triumph, he dropped his guard for a brief second, allowing his foe to strike a mortal blow. The man fell to the floor laughing through his pain and panted, "you think you have won but neither of you will long survive me." He coughed a few times before succumbing to his wounds and then dissolved into an oily puddle on the floor.

The two survivors shared an astonished look and the Brother leant heavily against the bedpost, clutching his injured shoulder and breathing heavily. Kipril asked in growing concern, "what is wrong? What did he mean you would not survive?"

The man said quietly through teeth clenched in pain, "I think there was some vile taint upon that blade of his and that it is quickly killing me. I doubt you will long survive me. That being the case, have you thought about what lies beyond death?"

Kipril stared at the man in astonishment, "you are nearer death than I and you want to talk philosophy?"

The man winced as he laughed and said, "I have no such worries but you might spend all eternity ruing these last few hours."

Kipril frowned, "you Brethren are all fanatics on this topic. I suppose if this Master of yours does exist then I have naught to fear. I have lived a good life, or as good as any man could in my circumstances. Besides, I have gotten myself killed on his behalf, for which I think he owes me much."

The dying man's breathing was ragged and darkness was ever on the brink of overcoming him, but he fought against, it saying, "with an attitude like that you are sure to spend an eternity apart from the Master and thus in utter darkness and despair. The Master is no man with whom you can bargain in the market place. He owes mortal man nothing. We are all rebels against His perfect way and we all justly deserve condemnation. Our best efforts are nothing to Him. What can any mortal do that could impress or indebt the One who made us?"

"Then we are all doomed?" asked the skeptical Kipril.

The man was fading fast but said, "the price of rebellion is death, but the Master took that penalty upon Himself to spare us if only we will accept His sacrifice on our behalf. He need not have known death, but He suffered death for us."

"What must I do?" asked the stunned Kipril.

With his last breath, the man said, "believe, trust, and give yourself utterly to Him." He toppled over and moved no more, leaving Kipril alone to contemplate eternity.

These Brethren were mad, absolutely mad! He had now seen three of them die for no good cause. Could they be right? In all the excitement he had forgotten about his own wound and now remembrance came crashing agonizingly back to the front of his mind. He was deathly weak and each breath became more and more a struggle. He glanced desperately at the dead man and idly wondered how long before he himself was naught but a corpse. His mind returned to those uneasy things of which the dying man had spoken. All his life he had heard the tales of the Master but had never felt inclined to think of them as more than just stories.

What if there was something beyond humanity? Beyond death? It certainly made sense, but how to know what was truly out there? He glanced again at the dead man and remembered how certain he had been even to the point of being able to proselytize upon the brink of death. Worse, his own heart seemed to tell him that here was the truth he had ignored all these years. His mind protested, not wanting to admit that up until this moment perhaps his life truly had been lived in vain. The weariness deepened and darkness gnawed at the corners of his vision; the maw of eternity gaped before him and yet he wanted to protest, drag his feet, and hesitate.

Finally, the moments running out, he gasped, "I do not know you but I know I need you. Forgive my rebellion, my ignorance, and my hesitation. I have nothing to offer, but I am yours if you will have me."

A Voice like echoed thunder said quietly beside him, "I certainly shall."

Alia rode swiftly to Astoria, her heart near to breaking for her fallen companions. The infant traveled well for one so new to the world and she wondered what hope rested upon the shoulders of one so small and innocent. The unicorn revealed his true form as they ran through the streets of Astoria that none might bar their way. The guards upon the castle gates watched curiously but allowed the strange woman to pass unhindered. It was not often that one not of the Brethren ever rode upon the back of so legendary a creature. They gaped even more to see the stranger clutching a very young child to her breast. She slid from the saddle and glanced about in near desperation, "I must see your Lady immediately concerning happenings in Kyra."

A servant ran immediately to ask after the Lady's availability and returned swiftly to lead the strange young woman to stand before their legendary leader. Alia told her story and presented the child and his accessories to the astonished Lady, who replied, "these are certainly tragic tidings and we shall tend to the child as his mother wishes. Now what of you my dear? You who have traveled so far and risked so much; what is your part in this tale?" The infant was given into the care of a childless woman and her husband who were delighted to have such a charge. Alia was finally able to realize her goal of joining the Brethren.

The years passed and the child grew into a boy verging on manhood. For ten years, he grew up quietly at home thinking no more of himself than any other peasant's son. At ten years of age he was allowed to go to Astoria to further his education with the renowned knowledge and teaching skills of the Brethren. At fifteen, he was convinced he wanted to become one of them. He stood before the Lady that day, nervous but hopeful to have his request granted. She looked at him quietly for a few moments and a small sadness seemed to flit through her eyes for a moment but was soon replaced with grave solemnity. She said, "Ian, I cannot grant that which you ask."

He gaped and without thinking asked, "what have I done or not done that you will not allow me to join you?"

She smiled sadly and said gently, "it is nothing of your doing but concerns a greater duty you must first fulfill." He looked at her in absolute confusion as she continued, "as you are well aware, the Brethren cannot rule even a city, let alone a country, save perhaps the Lady of Astoria. You cannot take your Oath because you are the rightful heir to the throne of Kyra and the time has come for you to journey thither and claim your birthright." He looked at her as if she had gone mad.

She continued, "your father, the former King of Kyra, was killed upon a hunting foray and many suspect his brother in the crime. Your uncle now rules Kyra with an iron fist and oppresses your people severely. Your father died before your birth and your mother feared for your life so sent you hence that you might grow up in safety. Your twin sister and mother yet reside upon your family estates in Kyra. Nothing is known to anyone outside the Brethren and a few faithful servants of your existence. My hope, and the hope of all Kyra, is that you return to the land of your birth and claim the throne that is rightfully yours and rule your people more justly than their current King. This is why I must deny you the Oath."

He gaped at her and finally said, "I understand and know I must take this quest upon myself if only for the sake of the suffering Kyrans, but how am I, a mere boy to challenge a King?"

The Lady smiled warmly, "I will send several of the Brethren with you along with certain proofs of your valid claim to the throne. You must know this is a very dangerous quest; four men and two unicorns have already died in the events surrounding your birth. The King has many dangerous servants and advisors who will aid him in thwarting your efforts at all costs."

Ian bowed deeply and said, "it is a risk I must take. What if I fail?"

The Lady smiled, "short of death I do not think you shall fail."

He smiled weakly, "my only regret is not being able to serve you as one of the Brethren."

She smiled warmly and said, "if you survive this ordeal and still have the interest in sixty years or so after you have passed your reign onto your children, I see no reason why you cannot yet join the Brethren." He smiled deeply at her sincerity and wondered if his zeal could be so strong as to last six decades.

Alia and three others were dispatched to accompany the aspiring prince to Kyra. He carried with him a letter written by his mother and sealed with the royal signet ring, the crystal star charm, and his late father's sword. It was early autumn and the weather was perfect for travel; the party made excellent progress and would soon near the borders of Kyra. It was at this point in their travels that Ian felt the adventure was about to begin; until now, he had been in a blissful half-dream but now was not the time for childish fancies when the fate of a nation rested upon his very inadequate shoulders. It was late afternoon, the sun had set all the world afire in shades of richest gold, when a lone traveler approached the party upon the road. He drew rein and waited patiently for the party to approach.

One of the men asked, as they drew nigh, "why do you bar our way stranger?"

The stranger suppressed a smile of secret amusement and said, "I do not bar your path but simply wish to join your party. I have come to aid you in your endeavors."

The Brother laughed, "and what could you know of our errand?"

The stranger replied, "I have come to see finished the errand I began fifteen years ago."

"And what errand would that be stranger?" asked the Brother cautiously.

The man smiled sheepishly and said, "to see a proper King restored to Kyra."

"What part did you play in that sad tale?" asked the Brother in confusion, "I thought there were none living, save those in our party, to finish what was begun so long ago?"

"Alia can testify to my involvement," said the man strangely.

All the while, Alia had been staring at the stranger in astonishment and could not quite believe her eyes. With his statement she said in doubt and horror, "Kipril? Is it truly you? I thought you long dead! What became of the Advisor to the King, his mount certainly felt him die."

Kipril glanced towards the ground and then ruefully met her astonished gaze, "you know me for truly myself. Not long after you left, my attacker came to finish me only to find me not alone. They fought, the sinister man was killed, and my valiant protector did not long survive him. I was on the brink of death when I finally realized sense and surrendered my life, failing as it was, to the Master. The Master Himself was in that room and took me at my word. He healed my wound and set me immediately upon this task. To you it has been fifteen years; to me it has been only a few minutes! I do not know what shall come of me once all is ended. I may perhaps live on for years or I might fall to dust the moment the King is crowned. At least my life will not have been lived completely in vain."

The little company stared at him in astonishment, but the Brethren knew he spoke truly no matter how hard it was to believe. Alia smiled at her long lost friend and said, "then welcome back my friend. What counsel can you give us about matters in Kyra?"

Kipril said, "as you know, the King is a vile tyrant and sorely tries his people. What you may not know is that the men behind the deaths of three of your comrades fifteen years ago secretly aid and advise the King. The Queen and her daughter still live quietly in the country but the King has his eye on the girl as a prospective bride for his own son and heir. I suggest we break into two parties. Alia, the Prince, and I shall ride to the former Queen's estates and the rest of you shall ride to Yorka and assess the situation there. We shall meet you as soon as we have apprised the Queen of her son's return." The others quickly agreed and they set off immediately for their assigned destinations.

As Alia and her companions made camp that night, Ian asked, "how can this be?"

Alia laughed, "how can you have spent so many years among the Brethren and not believe in miracles?"

Ian smiled ruefully, "I suppose I do but I thought they only ever happened to other people. The Master truly does work in wonderful and mysterious ways!"

They rode on, avoided the patrols once they crossed into Kyra, and soon found themselves upon the Queen's estates. Alia presented the star trinket to the guards at the great gates before the ancient house and a servant was quickly sent to inquire after the Queen. The astonished servant quickly returned and ushered the strangers into his lady's presence. All three bowed and the aging woman stared in wonder and joy at her long sundered son. Finally each found the courage to embrace and a quick round of wondering questions and excited chatter followed.

After Ian met his sister and mother and all their curiosity and joy had momentarily been satisfied, Alia asked, "how go things in Kyra? Are they as bad as we have heard? Any idea how the boy is to retake the throne?"

The queen said, "things are bad enough, especially for the commoners. In usual circumstances, Ian would present himself to the royal lawyers who would then decide whether he was the legal heir to the throne, but these are far from usual circumstances. I fear his uncle will kill him regardless."

Kipril said, "I think secrecy will not avail us. Let us present ourselves before the entire court that a knife in the dark will not end all their worries. With enough witnesses, perhaps the King will step down as he rightfully should. If he will not, then we will do what we must. He may challenge you to a duel for the crown and I am sure there will be treachery in the mix."

Ian said firmly, "I will do what I must."

They all agreed to the sketchy plan and the three set off at once, with the Queen to follow after with the intent of attending court on the following evening, when Ian would make his claims. They reached Yorka the following morning and met with the three that had gone ahead, who agreed completely with their suppositions. The Brethren could not take the throne by force, but neither could the current King legally deny the claims of his nephew. His only recourse would be to have the upstart murdered, a dangerous task since all the city would soon know of the challenge to his throne or to challenge him to and best him in a duel.

The servants of evil had not been lax these many years either. They had a spy in the midst of the Queen's servants and the moment he saw the star trinket he knew the game was afoot. He made his way to the city and swiftly reported his suspicions to his dark masters. So it was when the young renegade came to make his claims, the King and his sinister advisors were not taken unawares. They could have barred the youth an audience but then he would have made a scene in the street. He was too well protected to be silently murdered and it would be good to show the court exactly how such rebels were dealt with. The King actually looked forward to the confrontation and his associates would make sure that he was the victor. As expected, he made his appearance at court the following evening.

There was much gossip amongst the bystanders, as the King had allowed word of the imposter to be spread abroad. Alia, Kipril, and his mother accompanied him to stand before the King; the rest of the Brethren spread out to make sure no ambush was imminent. Ian said in a voice for all to hear, "I hereby lay claim to the throne of Kyra held unjustly these fifteen years by the murderer of my father."

The King laughed, "have you any proof boy that I killed your father or that you are even the late King's son?"

Ian stood his ground and said, "I have no proof you murdered my father save the certainty in my heart. But I have ample proof I am the son of the late King." He proffered his proofs and the royal lawyers examined the documents and artifacts for authenticity.

The King said, "I thought this woman bore a girl child?"

The former Queen spoke, "I gave birth to twins that night. The boy was safely hidden until he was of an age to claim his birthright."

The King scoffed, "a likely story, you simply found a youth of the correct age and indoctrinated him."

Alia spoke, "nay Sire, it was I that bore this very child to Astoria fifteen years ago. Know by the Oath that it is true."

The King looked to the lawyers, "well?"

They nodded grimly, "the artifacts and proofs seem to be quite real. Can anyone bear testimony to the Queen's story?"

An aged woman emerged from the crowd and the ancient midwife said, "she speaks truly. I was there when she gave birth and delivered a boy and a girl that night."

"Very well," said the King in much glee, "who is to say that you are the legal heir to the throne? Why must I vacate that which is lawfully mine?"

Alia spoke, "Kyran law states that in the presence of an immature heir, a Steward may be appointed until the boy is of age, at which point he will assume the throne. Your reign is legally at an end. You are also accused of gaining the throne through treacherous means which would also nullify your right to reign."

"You have no proof," snarled the King, "and I will not relinquish the throne to this no name upstart. If he wants the throne he must step over my dead body to gain it; I challenge him to a duel."

Ian looked concerned, "must I fight him?"

The royal lawyers looked grim, "under these circumstances it would violate all our customs not to. You have no legal requirements as such, but the people would not respect you if you declined. I also think your uncle would prove a dangerous enemy were he allowed to live."

The King gave him a dangerous look and the lawyer replied, "I was only stating the obvious Sire, no insult was meant on your behalf."

The King glared at his nephew, "well?"

The boy drew his sword in answer, the audience drew back to give them room to fight, and the King grinned as he drew his own blade and approached the boy. The lawyer intoned in a dreary voice, for what seemed a decade, the various rules before allowing the combatants to bow and face one another. The boy was young but skilled, the old man experienced but out of practice. They whirled about in a deadly dance while the dark aides of the King drew their own weapons to aid the King by treachery should such be necessary. The Brethren held their own swords at the ready, seeing what the sinister men intended. It was the stamina of the younger man that won the day as his weary uncle knelt before him with chest heaving wildly for air. He mocked between breaths, "finish me boy or they shall think you too weak to rule."

The boy shook his head, "no, you shall stand trial for my father's murder. I will not make you a martyr or give you the honor of a swift death."

At that moment, the sinister men in the crowd made to fall upon the boy but were met by an equal number of the Brethren. The King, seeing his future looking bleak and his treacherous friends fighting for their lives, lunged forward with sword drawn upon the distracted boy. The blade buried itself deeply in Kipril's chest as he leapt between Ian and his murderous uncle. Seeing his own doom near to hand, the vile King took his own life rather than losing it justly to the headsman. His vile henchmen did likewise rather than reveal their sinister allegiance.

The court was in uproar and confusion until the Brethren and heir apparent finally managed to calm them. No one understood why the dark men had dissolved into an oily puddle of goo upon death but the matter was soon forgotten, as the lawyers proclaimed Ian the rightful heir to the throne now that his uncle was most certainly dead. Some of the more treacherous nobles made to sneak out but the Brethren barred their way until the new King could deal with them justly.

Ian stared down in dismay at Kipril's shattered form, "I should be the one lying dead."

Alia put a reassuring hand upon his back and smiled sadly at her fallen friend, "he was already assumed dead in your service Sire; it just happened a little later than we all thought. He knew well his duty and carried it out faithfully. We can all only hope to die so nobly. We will mourn a little, but grief should not be our constant companion, for we shall meet again beyond time if we remain faithful until the end ourselves." The King was crowned and ruled his people justly for many years and once his own son was well established upon the throne, Ian quietly vanished and only his nearest kin and the Brethren knew what became of him after. The poet who thought himself no hero lived on in song and story long after Kyra itself had passed out of memory.

### Other Books by this Author:

### The Serpent and the Unicorn: Book I and II

### The Serpent and the Unicorn: Book III

### The Serpent and the Unicorn: Book IV and V

### Once a Thief

### A Song of Lesser Days

### Thus It Began

### Legends of the Brethren: The Sampler

### Legends of the Brethren: The Complete Series

### In Shadow

### Of Tea... and Things

### The Greylands

### The Foibles

###  Over the Hills and Far Away

### Want to Know More?:

### Official Website

### Author's Blog

Sample Chapters of 'Shadow of the Unicorn,' the first in the 'In Shadow,' series:

### 1

Jace stood upon the battlements, staring, though unseeing, out upon the bleak grey landscape of the failing year ere snow covered and softened the weary land for its winter repose. Leaden clouds lowered ominously on the horizon while a mournful wind moaned pitiably in the half completed towers of the grotesque fortress; the river passed sullenly by without comment, preoccupied with its looming icy imprisonment. Though only partially complete, the grim fortress was already falling to ruin, as were the souls who lingered therein. The place was hardly cheerful, even upon a bright morning of spring, and was at its most dismal ere the first snows of winter, but it was not the weather that brought the boy out to pace the battlements upon such a dreary day, rather he had much to contemplate and none of it good. His patched cloak flapped wildly in the wind but he little noticed, for his thoughts were just as unruly. His grandfather, a nobleman displaced by war, had laid the foundations of this ruin and his father had further built up the fortress after its founder's untimely death, but the family fortune had run out long before the project was finished, so it moldered in half-completed splendor while its occupants dwelt ever in the shadow of poverty and isolation, and now it seemed, madness as well.

Jace's father was but a boy when war forced the family to flee with what they could salvage of their wealth. The patriarch was determined to start anew in a strange land, much to the dismay of the locals, but they were a rather peaceful folk and he began his project without asking their permission, and as they were notorious for their willingness to forgive, the project continued despite their misgivings. But tragedy struck the third winter the family spent in their new home, for both of Jace's grandparents died of pneumonia within a fortnight of one another, leaving their son, still very much a boy, alone in the grim fortress with only a few faithful servants and guards that had accompanied the family in its flight, for they trusted no one in this strange land, least of all those of common descent. But the boy was not crushed by his loss, but rather was as determined, perhaps more so, than his father to finish the project and become a veritable lord in this strange land, the protests of the original inhabitants aside.

Construction continued slowly as the boy grew to manhood and the family fortune dwindled, but surely the son of a nobleman might make a proper match and thereby reinvigorate his fortune as well as perpetuate his line. So it was that Jace's father went a-courting and soon came home with his beautiful and captivating bride, the very picture of a wealthy lady, but only a picture, for though of noble blood, her family was as destitute as that of her new husband, though neither had thought to broach the subject before their marriage, assuming the other was indeed as rich as they portrayed themselves to be. The truth came out very soon after Jace was born; the ensuing fight was the stuff of legend, at least if you believe the tales told in after years by the aging servants, but in the end, the lady fled, leaving her infant son and husband to fend for themselves. The man looked coldly upon the boy, who was so like his mother in form and feature that he could not help but despise him. He turned his back on the child, stared stonily at the open door out which his wife had fled, and then withdrew to his own chambers. Had one of the few remaining servants not taken pity upon the poor creature, he likely would not have survived infancy.

The man seemed indifferent to the fate of his son, pretending that he did not even exist and focusing all his time, thought, and energy on his project instead, but there was no money to pay workmen or buy stone and timber, so the man had to do everything himself. Only two servants remained of the few that had fled with the family, lingering on out of faithfulness and because they had nowhere else to go, for their lord had long since ceased to pay them. The old housekeeper did the cooking, looked after the domestic side of things, and was the only mother the boy ever knew. The other was an aging guardsman who had taken on the duties of butler, valet, and jack-of-all-trades; it was he that taught the boy what little he knew of reading and more importantly, to his mind at least, the sword. The rest of the lad's education was left to what he could glean from the few books that lay forgotten around the fortress and what the housekeeper could impart in the form of old stories as she wandered about the keep seeing to her myriad duties.

As the boy neared manhood, at last his father took a modicum of interest in him, but whether it was due to some newly realized desire for kith and kin in his fading years or because his rheumatism forced him to abandon his fortress building activities, none knew. But one day the master of the ruin summoned the lad into his chambers, where he sat in relative splendor in a fraying robe with a moth-eaten velvet chair for a throne. Upon the lad's entrance, the man studied him as he might a horse he had a mind to buy. After several minutes of dreadful silence, the man said at last, "what do they call you boy?"

The lad blinked in surprise that his father did not even know his name, but his servile foster parents had taught him courtesy, if little else, said he with a proper bow, "I am called Jace, sir."

The man nodded as if it were of no matter and continued, "very well boy, they say you are my son, a claim I cannot verify yet neither can I fully deny it. In either case, it is high time you started to earn your keep around here. My father had a vision that this castle would one day tower over the surrounding countryside and herein would his descendants be safe from war, plague, and the like, nevermore to be driven like refugees from that which was rightfully our own. This is all my purpose and destiny and it shall be yours, whether you like it or not. You will take up where I have left off: cutting timber, collecting stone, using it to finish what my father began, well?"

The boy gaped, was this to be all his future? A slave to another man's futile dream?

The man shook his head sadly, "I see you are not a man of vision, like unto mine, a pity, for I think it proves that you are not my son after all. I will give you the afternoon to ponder your future, either submit yourself to my father's dream and fulfill your true purpose in this life or get you gone from here, never to return." The boy gave a perfect bow and vanished from the room, fleeing to the battlements to mull over his future, whatever it might be.

Night was falling and still he had found no sensible reply for the grim man waiting impatiently in his chambers below, prematurely aged by labor, sorrow, and unrestrained ambition. Jace glanced uneasily out upon the darkening world, could he truly find a life out there in the world that had forsaken his family, from whose stock had sprung his faithless mother? Yet he knew he could not remain forever a slave to his grandfather's dream as his father had ever been. What was he to do? Where was he to go? The outside world terrified him, but could he live on for countless years in futile toil? He wanted to scream or weep and came very close to doing both, but his reeling thoughts were interrupted by a stooping ghost that loomed out of the darkness before him.

Came the gruff but concerned voice of the guardsman, "what troubles thee lad? The master sent me to find ye, he is impatient for yer answer."

The boy glanced silently out into the darkness and the man nodded in grave understanding, "aye, it is a hard choice, but no choice at all I think. This cursed place has consumed two generations of yer family lad, don't be a fool and make it three. Whatever horrors lay without, they can be nothing to what lurks herein."

The boy nodded his silent thanks and then went to find his father, knowing the man had spoken truly. He knocked timidly upon the door and entered upon the gruff command to do so. He found his father standing before the hearth, staring into the flames, his hands clasped at his back; he did not turn around or even look at the boy, said he, "a harlot's son, through and through, cannot even stay on to succor an aging wreck of a man in his failing years, the selfish, selfish wretch." Suddenly the man turned, his anger giving him strength and speed that years of hard labor had stolen, he took up an iron poker that lay to hand and his eyes seemed to blaze with the light of the fire at his back, snarled he, hefting the poker aloft, "Out! Out! Get out, you insolent oaf!"

The boy knew the man was in earnest and half out of his mind besides, lingering not a moment longer, he turned and fled the chamber and hied himself that moment from the crumbling keep. The housekeeper and guardsman watched him flee with sad eyes, shook their heads in dismay, but had known for many a year that there could be no other end to the tale, but at least this wretched fortress would not utterly consume the boy as it had his forbears, what the outside world might do to him was another matter entirely.

Jace fled with only the clothes on his back, packing was of little matter as he was currently wearing everything he possessed. His only thought was to escape the broken dreams and empty years that lay behind with no concern for what the morrow might hold, for he knew nothing of purpose, joy, peace, hope, or comfort. His world was as cold and lonely as the fortress he had just fled. A miserable drizzle began to fall not long after his flight, forcing him to seek what shelter he could beneath a clump of spruce trees that seemed to huddle together for comfort amid the cold, wet dark. Every fiber of Jace's being cried out to do the same, but one cannot comfortably cuddle with a conifer so there was nothing left to be done but cry himself to sleep.

A wan shaft of sunlight filtered down through the clouds and pierced the fastness of the boy's retreat, bringing him blinkingly awake. He sighed heavily as he gained his feet, seeing no reason to go on save that he was too anxious and grieved of heart to sit still. So off he went into the dawning, grateful that the rain had stopped and that he could now see whither he fled. Which got him to wondering where exactly he was to go. He knew nothing of the outside world, save for forays with the guardsman into the surrounding forest to collect wood or to hunt. He had never even seen a farmer's cot, let alone a village. He had heard the housekeeper mention a city once, a concept he could not quite comprehend, but he was not sure he wanted to venture thither, for she had spoken of it in hushed tones one night with the guardsman as they sat before the kitchen fire, certain the lad was abed and not hiding in the doorway, listening in horrified fascination as she described the demon-worshippers that dwelt therein and the horrid practices with which they maintained their uncanny powers.

He smiled grimly to himself, pondering what was best to be done, as his feet followed a game trail seemingly of their own accord, so little did he notice or care whither his path led. He could wander out into the wilderness and undoubtedly die of exposure or starvation during the coming winter or he could find this city and see if the housekeeper's awful tales were even half true. It might be death either way, but at least he could discover what a city was ere the end. With this grim acceptance, did he suddenly step out of the surrounding woods and look upon a great swath of cultivated land, dotted with farmhouses and well-tended copses, and in the distance loomed the infamous city. He had inherited a little of his father's ambition, so with a grim smile pasted on his face did he set out in quest of what could only be his doom.

His smile became incongruous as his journey progressed in a rather anticlimactic fashion, for though he had prepared himself for sights grim and terrible, the countryside was rather picturesque and the few folk he observed in passing seemed as sensible and down-to-earth as either the guardsman or the housekeeper. He consoled himself with the thought that of course the commonfolk would be of similar disposition to the menials with which he was acquainted, it was only their fell masters that would be workers of such foul magicks. He hastened his steps to discover this inevitability for himself but was again sorely disappointed. He soon found himself in a veritable flood of humanity headed for the city to conduct the day's business. People at first trickled in from the outlying farms and villages but soon converged upon the main road leading into the city.

Jace gazed about him in wonder, never having imagined there could be so many people upon the face of the earth, let alone upon one certain stretch of road. The houses and shops that began to line the way were also strange to his eyes and he goggled like the yokel he was; some of the more world-weary passersby about him smiled in welcome amusement at the lad's befuddlement, for a moment remembering their own forgotten youth. A veritable city had grown up around the walls of the original settlement and many of Jace's fellow travelers vanished into the labyrinthine streets and alleys upon their own errands, but most continued on through the gates, few even glancing at the guards who stood silent watch at the gates and upon the walls, but the boy froze in fascinated terror. His sudden halt brought a few complaints and jostles from those nearest him, but they shoved around him and continued on their way, some giving him a meaningful glare but most shaking their heads in vast amusement.

So too did those fell warriors eye the boy with smiles that never broke the stony facade of their faces. But as more and more people pushed by the lad and entered the gates unscathed, he drew a deep breath and pressed ever onwards into the heart of a city inhabited by sorcerers and worse, though strangely, none of the folk about him seemed overly concerned about their impending doom. He was drawn inexorably to the center of the city where a great castle towered over everything. For a long time he stood as one transfixed, staring up and up and up at the edifice that soared above him. A rueful smile split his lips, for even had he and his descendants ten generations hence worked ceaselessly, never could they hope to make anything like this of that horrid fortress. And thence lay his doom. At last, he gathered his courage and set forth upon the last leg of his final journey, thinking it quite a heroic effort on his part and not a little disappointed that there was not a bard or poet at hand to record the tale. Most of his erstwhile companions had vanished long ago into the city proper and left the bumpkin to stare as he would. So it was that he came to the castle gates and found himself very much alone with a whole host of those grim faced guards just waiting to make a gory end of him. Where was a poet when you needed one?

He stood awkwardly out of the way, studying those who guarded the gates and those who came and went upon their own errands, not finding anything too sinister in any of it. Again rather disappointed, the lad at last made his own approach, knowing his courage was hanging by a thread. His first attempt at speaking failed dismally with the guard looking at him in perplexity and what might, to Jace's horrified mind, be pity!

But the guard saved him from further embarrassment and possible flight by asking, "what can I do for you lad?" He actually smiled, "you need not be so terrified, you are quite safe within the confines of Astoria."

The boy blinked in utter astonishment, could this fearsome warrior truly be speaking to him, and with kindness? Demon-worshippers indeed! Said he at last, a quaver in his voice, "I am in desperate straits, sir, but well know that there is little hope for one such as I in this cold, indifferent world."

The guard nodded in understanding and said gently, "aye lad, many come hither with just such a tale, but take heart, for we shall do all we can to remedy your plight, whatever it be." Jace looked near to fainting with hunger and astonishment, as the man motioned for a servant standing within the courtyard to take charge of the flummoxed lad and see to his comfort. The servant smiled in amusement, having done the same a thousand times before, and easily guided the gaping boy into the castle proper, leaving the guard to speak with the next person awaiting his attention.

At last Jace collected his wits enough to comprehend what the servant was saying, "the morning meal has just finished, but I can bring you something once you are settled." He studied the lad's ragged attire that was more patches than original cloth and smiled wryly, "and I'll see to your wardrobe as well. Have you come to study then?"

Jace froze and studied the man as if he had asked if his father were a toad, said he in astonishment, "study? You must know I could little afford such a luxury!"

The servant grinned, "I suppose it is priceless at that, but come lad, anyone is free to study in Astoria and all the Lady asks is that you abide by her rules whilst you reside in the city."

The boy gaped anew, but a smile danced in his eyes, said he with an incredulous grin, "then I will certainly take you up on that offer, sir." The servant nodded as if it were simple sense and they continued on their way.

He stopped before a door at the end of a long corridor and said, "you can sleep here for now, this room is currently unoccupied but if you stay very long, you will undoubtedly find yourself with roommates rather soon. I'll see about finding you something to eat and some appropriate attire." He smiled broadly as he turned to go, "welcome to Astoria!"

The boy stared wistfully after the retreating form for a moment and then curiously opened the door and entered the room. Glancing about at the small but comfortable chamber, he laughed aloud and said, "demon worshippers indeed!"

"How dreadful!" came a startled and unfamiliar voice.

Jace turned around in surprise to find a girl about his own age, or at least so he assumed, not having much experience in such matters, peeping round the door, a broom forgotten in one hand. She squeaked in dismay, "forgive me, I was just sweeping the hall when I heard your outburst and just had to investigate." She blushed crimson at her own unseemly outburst and though she colored further, pressed on, "can you tell me more about these demon worshippers?"

Jace was not sure whether he was more startled, annoyed, or amused by this perplexing creature, but said as calmly as he could, "I haven't much to tell, for I was only laughing at the incongruity of this place with a description I once heard of it. The old woman was convinced this place was naught but a den of such villains, but I have yet to find them, should they exist."

Briane laughed excitedly, clasping her hands like a little girl, "oh, you will have to look long and hard to find such in Astoria. I have been here all my life and have never heard of such goings on."

Jace smiled wryly at his previous eagerness, "so there isn't anyone in Astoria possessed of uncanny abilities as my unenlightened source assumed?"

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," came the voice of the returning servant. He gave the girl a patient look, "have you not things to be about?" She squeaked again, dropped a curtsy, and disappeared round the corner with a death grip on her broom. The servant shook his head and smiled ruefully, "the silly girl spends more time eavesdropping than attending to her chores; more curiosity than a cat, has that one."

Jace was gaping again, but the servant ignored him and thrust a pile of clothes and a tray of food into his hands, saying as he did so, "as promised, here is your breakfast and a change of clothes. If you hurry, you can just make it to the next class session. You'll have an official schedule soon, but until then you had best tag alone with some of the other Students." He smiled impishly, "and as to your unasked question, you'll soon discover the answers for yourself if you pay attention in class." He nodded at the boy and vanished about his interrupted errands.

Jace shook himself, frowned in consternation at the servant's retreating back, and then hastily changed his clothes and wolfed down the food, both from hunger and eager to begin his education. Only then did he realize he was alone in an unfamiliar castle with no idea where to find said classes. He shrugged, smiled as his audacity reared its head once more, and dashed down the hall in search of a class or an adventure, whichever came first.

He nearly collided with a pair of slightly older boys as he came careening around the corner, determined not to be late. Suddenly ill at ease, Jace muttered his apologies and stared at his feet. One of the older lads must have heard, 'new here,' amongst Jace's mumbling for he cheerily replied, "don't worry about it! Come with us and we'll help you get settled."

The boy stared up in astonishment, gaping yet again, stuttered he, "how can this be? How can you be bothered with helping me? I don't understand?"

The older pair exchanged a grin, then Adan, the lad who had spoken, clapped the younger boy on the back and smiled, "it seems you have much to learn about life in Astoria. Wherever you came from, it must have been a rough life. But come, else we'll be late." Jace smiled at his reassuring words and then blanched in near panic at the thought of being the cause of their tardiness. The older pair shook their heads in amusement but all three hastened off to class.

Jace remembered little of that first lesson, so overwhelmed was he with all that had happened in the last day and all the novel sights and experiences he had taken in. His erstwhile guides were assigned chores in the stable the following hour, which allowed the overwrought Jace some much needed time to sit and think while his companions shoveled muck. The midday meal offered another course of novelty and wonder to Jace's abused sensibilities, never in his life had he been amidst so many people, and most astonishingly of all, though complete strangers, they actually seemed to care about him. Another round of classes was set for the afternoon, but Jace felt he needed some time alone to sort everything out, and perhaps even a nap after his difficult night. He goggled, less than a full day had passed since his father had cast him out, alone in the night. Adan nodded his understanding and showed him back to the corridor that housed his room, and though he valiantly intended to contemplate upon all that had happened, he fell promptly and soundly asleep.

### 2

A ruckus in the hall wakened the boy as the eager Students returned to their rooms after their last class before going to the evening meal. Jace glanced blearily about, wondering for a moment where he was, but suddenly realization dawned and a great smile lit his face. He had come home at last. He adjusted his rumpled clothing, grateful it was not too wrinkled from his nap and ran a hand through his hair, it would do, then dashed excitedly from the room, again nearly colliding with Adan, who smiled roguishly at the boy and hoped such behavior was not becoming a habit. Said the elder lad with a grin, "it is good to see you so refreshed, you looked rather stunned when we parted and I know you learned nothing in class today, but it seems there is hope for you yet."

Jace smiled ruefully, "it has been quite a day." He glanced hopefully in the direction of the dining hall, even after so short a stay he had become very much accustomed to being fed regularly and well, which was an unlikely occurrence in his former life, said he, "and I'd be happy to tell you all the tale over the evening meal, that is if you care to hear it."

Adan laughed outright, "aye, it must be quite a story indeed, but fear not, there shall be plenty of food to go around."

Jace colored and began studying his boots, abashed that his greatest desire at the moment was so blatantly obvious. Adan glanced at said boots as well and frowned, "but first we had best stop by the supply room and find you a decent pair of boots."

Jace looked up suddenly in surprise, would the miracles in this place never cease? He had never owned a decent pair of boots, this particular pair had been worn by his father when he fled his homeland, ages ago! Adan smiled warmly at the look of grateful astonishment in the lad's eyes and led the way, eager to see the wish fulfilled. The servant in charge of the supply room at that hour took one look at the antique footwear, turned away with a disgusted groan, and vanished into the storage area, reappearing with a worn, but quite serviceable pair of boots that actually fit the agape lad. Rather pleased with himself, the servant smiled smugly and reluctantly took the ancient boots in exchange, his countenance taking on an unruly expression as he did so, their fate remains a mystery to this day but judging from his face, it was not a pleasant one.

As they walked to the dining hall, Jace remarked with an awe tinged voice, "I have never encountered such generosity, not even from my own folk!"

Adan shook his head, his eyes sparkling, "you've seen nothing yet, all we've done this day is see you properly clothed and fed."

Jace froze mid-step and faced his companion, "there's more?!"

Adan clapped him on the shoulder and smiled, "aye, more than you can begin to imagine." They continued on, Jace speechless in incomprehension.

As they sat at table, finishing their food, Jace told his tale, much to the horror and astonishment of Adan and his friends who had joined them for supper. No wonder the boy was so grateful for the least bit of kindness or attention! Adan said at last, "so that is the tale behind that ugly heap of rocks up river? Long have we theorized amongst ourselves about who or what had built it, or rather begun it, and why. It is a grim enough story in its own right." He smiled ruefully, "though nowhere near as horrific as some of the tales we've birthed."

The others shared a wry laugh and eyed their companion with both pity and wonder, Jace awkwardly studied his peas, uneasy being the focus of such attention. Adan continued, more to distract his companions away from their study of the abashed boy than for anything else, "well, this is the place to start over or start anew, if that is your wish. Any idea what you want to do with your life?"

Jace could not restrain his laugh, "it was but a day ago my father cast me out and I encountered true human society for the first time in my life, let alone human kindness. Must I already know the course of my future?"

The others joined in his mirth, forgetting how high were the expectations of their hosts and thus, inadvertently perhaps, their own. Once the laughter had subsided, Jace asked a bit timidly, still uneasy speaking his mind amongst so many strangers, "what is this place? Who founded it? How can they afford to support so many ragamuffin students with no expectation of remuneration? Is there some hidden agenda or trap, for it seems too good to be true?"

Adan smiled, "rest easy my friend, there is nothing sinister or hidden here. You may stay as long as you wish and leave likewise. The only requirement is that you do your best, be respectful of others, and follow the rules as best you can. According to legend, Astoria was founded centuries ago, near the very Beginning. The country is self-sufficient and quite prosperous in its own right, but is also supported by various Kings, Lords, and wealthy benefactors who believe in its mission or have benefited from its services themselves. They have been educating all comers since its foundations were laid."

Jace nodded thoughtfully, "a noble cause I suppose, but who founded it and why? My experience of the world is limited, but I do not see blind philanthropy as a common trait amongst men, someone must have had a reason."

Adan studied his companion thoughtfully, trying to gage his reaction to what was to come, said he at last, "you will learn far more in your initial classes, but the simple answer is: the Master Himself provided for the city's founding as a home for the Brethren and those they serve."

Jace blinked, not having imagined the so far sensible Adan to be one who believed in fairy tales, said he in consternation, "that is what the legends say?"

Adan grinned, "you are a skeptic then?"

Jace shrugged somewhat sheepishly, though he was not the one who seriously thought myth had once walked about under sun and star, "I suppose, though I know little enough of the subject, and of all else for that matter, that I should withhold judgment until I am certain."

Adan nodded, "fair enough, but don't worry, there is no requirement to believe a certain way to study here. Even if you hold it all to be a tall tale, there is still more wisdom to be garnered here than you'll be able to absorb in a lifetime."

Jace smiled in relief, "that is good to know." He frowned thoughtfully, "I met a servant earlier who made a rather cryptic comment about certain individuals around this place having uncanny abilities, but he said I would have to wait for my classes to answer my questions in that regard. Our old housekeeper was convinced the city was inhabited by demon-worshippers, a claim I am certain is wrong, but what is the truth about this place and its denizens?"

Adan smiled in amusement at the servant's evasiveness, he was pretty certain who it was the lad had met, but he said, "the Brethren are purported to have certain gifts given to them in their service to the Master, you will learn far more in days to come if you want specifics, but there is nothing evil in the mix. Uncanny yes, miraculous certainly, but not demonic." He smiled impishly, "how is it you can believe in demons but not the Master?"

Jace frowned at the thought and then smiled ironically, "that is an incongruous thought! But then, I am not sure I believe in demons either, it was just something I overheard and never gave much serious thought until I was bound hither in the dark, alone, after being cast out from all I ever knew. I guess the imagination is prone to embracing the grim and frightening with far less reluctance, especially under such circumstances, than the rational mind is in accepting the supernatural in far more congenial surroundings."

Adan smiled broadly, "my friend, you have come to the right place, for yours is a mind quick and ready to absorb all available wisdom and knowledge, and here you will undoubtedly find ample fodder for thought."

They continued their conversation upon more general topics, for which Jace was thankful, little liking being the center of attention when he was so little used to it; so absorbed was he in all that was said that he did not notice Briane sitting on the edge of the group, studying him with sparkling eyes and a knowing half-smile upon her lips.

Adan saw him back to his quarters after the meal, for even with his nap, Jace was exhausted though sorely disappointed not to be able to participate in the games and conversations held amongst the students that evening, but such was the ritual every night, so he consoled himself with the thought that there was always tomorrow and many days thereafter. Yawning, he bid goodnight to his companion, and was soon asleep.

Sample Story from 'Over the Hills and Far Away:'

' _Over the hills and far away,'_

thither lies the land of Fey,

Of wandering brook and woodland glade,

Golden meads and dappled shade.

Where evening star is guide and stay

And in the vales, mist doth play.

Dryad, pixie, gnome dwell there,

Griffons lurk and dragons lair.

Songs of old live on there still,

Legend treads on plain and hill.

Beasts that talk and trees that sing,

The poor be rich, a peasant King.

If that land, you would gain,

Take a child in your train,

Let him lead you by the hand,

And you will reach that far, fair land.

~Over the Hills and Far Away~

Up the airy mountains,

Down the rushy glen,

We daren't go a-hunting

For fear of little men;

Wee folk, good folk,

Trooping all together;

Green jacket, red cap,

And white owl's feather!

~William Allingham, 'The Fairies'~

### For Fear of Little Men

Beatrice was missing, and none were fain to seek her, save her little brother, Tibbin, but could a mere child go where grown men feared to tread? Perhaps only a little child could. She had strayed up into the hills after her father's missing sheep and none had seen her for a full three days. No one ventured into those hills, for they were known to be haunted by all manner of folk, strange and fey, and it was folly for mortals to tread thereupon. No, the girl was lost, spirited away or bewitched by some fell being, never more to be seen by mortal men under sun and star, at least not in any natural form; her family might as well accept the truth, embrace their loss, and move on with their lives, or so whispered the villagefolk. But Tibbin was not content to lose his sister thus, but loath were his parents to part with their remaining child, so did he make for those forbidden hills without their knowing or leave, save for a brief note of farewell, imparting his fate. Aghast, his parents asked of their friends and neighbors if any were willing to go after. They merely shook their heads and muttered darkly amongst themselves, who would risk their lives when the boy willingly chose his doom? It was not to be helped. The aggrieved couple went home to wait, perhaps vainly, for news of what had come of their children.

Tibbin was a child but he was not a fool, he was young but also sensible. His elders all feared the fairyfolk, mostly because they did not understand them, albeit they had little interaction with that mysterious kindred and only a few old tales, likely flawed, to rely upon for information pertaining thereunto, but they were also small-minded and superstitious, little liking anything outside their ken, which was pretty much anything and everything outside the confines of their secluded village. Tibbin was still young enough to be untainted by their blindness and prejudice; for his were the wide, unguarded eyes of childhood that saw things as they were rather than as the viewer thought them to be. He was a little leery of the fey folk, as all creatures are of the unknown, but he was not paralyzed or handicapped by unmerited terror as his elders were. Thus did he hie himself into those mysterious hills, the only hope for his sister. He took with him enough bread, cheese, and water to last him a week of hard scrabbling over rocky ground, hoping it would be enough. He took no weapons, save a little knife, which was tool rather than implement of death. With his meager rations and a stout, faithful heart did he set out upon quest great and daring.

He left at twilight when his parents thought him abed, creeping carefully out of the house and into the brushy waste behind, clambering over stones and thorny scrub by the light of a slivered moon and a few bright stars. He went as far as he could in the wan light, at least far enough that pursuit would not follow, and then laid himself down under a gorse bush to find what rest he could. An impertinent bird started trilling in said bush at an unearthly hour, wakening the stiff, cold hero into a misty world of gold and rose. He smiled despite his discomfort and drank in the beauty about him, like a connoisseur a rare and delicate wine. He stretched, breakfasted, and was soon off into the mysterious otherworldliness of dawn, feeling that his adventure was well and truly begun. His sister surely waited around the next bend in the path or just over the hill. He whistled as airily as the bird as he set forth.

His sister was not over the next hill, but a short, stocky man with a prodigious beard sat upon a stone in the thinning mist, smoking his pipe. Asked the boy of the stoic figure, "have you perchance seen or heard of a young girl roaming these hills within the last sevennight, good sir?"

The dwarfish gentleman smiled broadly at the lad's boldness, withdrew his pipe, and exhaled thoughtfully, "aye lad, aye. Not a rabbit goes through these hills without my knowing it. How is it you have the courage to come when none of your elders would bestir themselves?"

Said the boy with a shrug, "none would come, so there was only me. Please sir, have you seen my sister?"

The man nodded sagely, "she's taken up with a few of the pixies that haunt meadow and lea, dangerous consorts for a mortal lass."

The boy paled, "have they harmed her or is she in great peril?"

The dwarf laughed, "aye and nay, lad, aye and nay! Those fairies are as feckless and giddy as any lass your sister's age, but they never grow up or wiser, and neither do they age nor die. They will not hurt a mayfly or aught else, but rather delight in all that is pretty and ephemeral: flowers, butterflies, robin's eggs, and the like. They have no use or comprehension of the greater, eternal things but are like a brook's laugh or a dancing little wind in their seriousness and wisdom. The danger lies in the fact Time and Death mean nothing to them. Your sister, if she is not careful, may get so caught up in their whimsical nonsense that she forgets such things herself and by the time she remembers them, may find herself a very old lady with naught of life left to her. It is a tricky thing when mortals think to involve themselves in matters beyond their ken and natural sphere. Your kind is made for eternity, but must enter it through the proper door, not try to sneak in the window."

The boy was silent for a long while as he contemplated the little man's words, and finally said, "can I draw her back?"

The man nodded, "aye lad, if she will come, but she may be so entranced with the merriment and giddiness of her companions that she will yearn to stay. If she will not go of her own will, no power on earth or beyond it will move her. Take heed to yourself, that you not find yourself also caught up in things beyond your natural sphere. Someday perhaps, such or rather far greater shall be your lot, but do not be tempted into seizing it ere it is time for only trouble will come of it." The boy heartily thanked the old man and hastened in the direction he was bidden. The dwarf watched after and wondered what would come of the lad and his sister, silently shaking his head at the recklessness and abandon of those silly pixies and the inadvertent havoc it could wreak upon a mortal creature.

Tibbin had not gone far when he spied a rather curious creature crouching in the shade of a great oak. It appeared to be a lad his own age, but his full height would only reach his father's knee; he was light of build, eye, and hair and his ears were slightly tapered. He winked at the staring boy, motioned eagerly for the lad to follow, and vanished into the hedge of roses at the base of the tree. Tibbin took two happy steps after the fairy creature but then froze, his quest was his sister, not to be caught up in a fate like unto hers. He sighed heavily but turned staunchly back upon his original path and intent. The little creature watched after, for a moment a little disappointed, but then some other amusement soon caught his attention and his lost companion was immediately forgotten.

By the time the sun was on its downward journey, Tibbin had come to the little meadow wherein the dwarf said his sister and her merry companions might be found on occasion. He settled down in a thicket of young birches to await their coming. Neither was the wait to be tedious, dull, or lonely. The world, in itself, was young, spry, pleasant, and full of the wonders of spring, but those hills were haunted by all manner of folk and creature unknown to the children of men, and in this varied parade, Tibbin found endless marvel and interest. Most ignored him, some were openly scornful, and a few asked him to follow in their merry wake, but ever he sat and awaited the coming of Beatrice and her fairy companions. So did he wait for three full days, eating from his scant provisions and refreshing himself in the ever singing brook by which he sat, finally on a night of mist and moon and starlight, five bright figures came laughing and dancing into the water meadow, Beatrice as radiant and blithe as her companions.

Tibbin rose from his place with a joyous shout and for a moment the pixies quivered like frightened birds, but soon they arrayed themselves about him in a merry dance of welcome and curiosity. Beatrice at first did not know him, but as his song joined in their lilting chorus, his well loved voice broke the thrall about her and she joyously left her place in the circle and flew into her brother's arms with tears of unspeakable longing and delight. The piping and cavorting of the fairies increased tenfold at such mirth and delightedly did they share therein, but soon they tired of the newcomer and were rather perplexed and no little troubled by the strange sobbing that now wracked their once gay companion. For nothing did they know of sorrow or death. With a merry call, did they bid Beatrice to flit off with them anew, careless once more, but she smiled sadly, wiped a mysterious moisture from her eyes and cheek, and shook her head adamantly. The pixies shrugged indifferently and capered off into the creeping mist to join the dance of the fireflies, their companion utterly forgotten. Beatrice shook her head ruefully, took Tibbin's hand, and returned to his place amongst the birches. They slept soundly until roused by the zealous chorus of a morning in spring. Hand in hand, they left that lovely meadow and turned their steps and hearts longingly towards home.

They met the little man, still sitting on his accustomed stone and smoking his pipe, perhaps as he had done since the first morning of the world. He smiled joyously at them, waved enthusiastically, and then vanished. They shared a mystified smile and continued on their way. They might have slept another night in the bush but knew their parents were mourning their presumed fate and were eager to turn their weeping to joy. So it was that joy came with the morning. Their father stood aback the house, staring morbidly off into the hills and thought himself in a delirium when he glimpsed his lost children walking blithely back from the land of things forgotten and unknown. He trumpeted his wonder and joy so loudly that the entire village was roused. His wife came disbelieving from the house, took one look at what had so disquieted her husband, and added her own shriek of pure joy to the cacophony of laughing welcome and wonder.

The grim eyed, fretful villagers gathered round the happy little foursome and muttered darkly about curses, possession, and worse. A few even clutched a kitchen knife, pitchfork, or wood axe in nervous dread. The now grave father stood forth and asked of his disturbed folk, "my children have returned unscathed, why do you not rejoice?"

Said one distrustful old man, "who are you to say they are unscathed? Who knows what terrible curse might have been laid upon them? None venture into those hills and returns unchanged, if they return at all. They are a threat and a danger to us all as long as they remain among us. Send them back or send them away lest evil befall us all, else we will take matters into our own hands."

The man shook his head in grim disgust, but before he could reply to this nonsense, Tibbin took his hand, looked gently into his eyes, and said with a wisdom far beyond his years, "heed him not father, he knows not of what he speaks and no words of yours will change his mind." Unchanged indeed! The man smiled down at this young sage, caught the eyes of all his dear ones, and then looked once more upon those mysterious hills. A brilliant flicker of gold and white upon a far hill, like a distant star, filled all his vision and called bewitchingly to his very soul. Said Tibbin with tremulous, but joyous finality, "come, come away!" He took his father's hand, his mother and sister joined theirs also, and the entire family boldly made for that distant vision, the flummoxed villagers parting before them like water around the bow of a boat. They vanished into those wondrous hills and were seen in that village no more. Many and dark were the rumors of the witchery that had taken an entire clan and the grim fate that had undoubtedly befallen them, but I can assure you, they were all of them wrong.

Sample Chapters of 'The Greylands: Volume I:'

Prince Bryant sat in the common room with two sons of the greater lords of Ithamar; they all had older brothers and very little chance of ever taking their fathers' places of import and influence unless their elder brothers succumbed to some mysterious illness or fell in battle. Thus they were relegated to the privileged but socially obscure branch upon which they perched. Much was expected of them by their noble parents but they would win little glory, wealth, or renown for anything they did, though their elder brothers seemed to accrue acclaim simply by getting out of bed of a morning. It was a seductive glue that bound them together: jealousy of their elder brothers and anger at fate for placing them in such an insignificant position. Most nights they could be found drowning their woes among the city's many inns and drinking houses. When they gathered in such a place, the natives inevitably relocated so as not to find themselves in an awkward confrontation with such important and often drunk personages; the consequences of such an experience never favored the peasants. The boys would drink their fill and complain even more of the hardships of the world while the innkeeper listened and shook his head thinking they knew little of hardship and nothing of real life, at least not life as experienced by the vast majority of humanity throughout history.

Ithamar was not the worst of countries in those days in its treatment of its peasants but the taxes were high and common men had few rights in a conflict of interest with the nobility. So they drank and complained and bonded over their seeming sorrow. Then they would stumble home drunk, fall into bed while servants cleaned up the mess, and begin anew their tedious lives on the morrow, succored only by the hope of the coming night.

Bryant's father the King, his elder brother, his mother, his numerous aunts, his grandmother, and everyone else in the Kingdom with the nerve often scolded him about his dissolute habits but he ignored them or scoffed or yelled back, all to no avail. Why did he not lead his father's soldiers as his younger brother did or marry the daughter of some foreign King? Could he not learn something from all the philosophers and sages in the Kingdom and be of use to his father and brother in matters of state? Could he not quietly disappear to his country estates and hunt contentedly in obscurity and not cause a scene? Could he do anything but embarrass all his nearest relations? Deep within he found the whole thing somehow amusing, if only for the consternation it caused his elders; irritating all his nearest relations seemed the only joy he had left in life. On the outside he was all strut and show but within he yearned for meaning and direction and purpose. He was a boat adrift at sea without anchor, rudder, or sail while a storm raged around him with no end in sight. At least he felt as if he had something to look forward to in his nightly carousing though he always came away feeling small and empty and alone as he wandered home to bed in the small hours of the morning.

Dark were his thoughts that night, darker than his usual wont, for he felt if he continued to do nothing he would soon do something drastic, whether to himself or others he did not know. He said to his companions, "I am tired of this tedious life we live. Let us do something great or terrible, that we might end the tedium and do something to be remembered; even if we do not succeed, it is better to die in the attempt rather than die in obscurity. Shall we be famous or infamous?" His friends laughed drunkenly, for the night was far gone and much wine had passed their lips.

He continued, "as you will not choose I shall have the honor then. Let us be infamous! There are many failed adventurers and heroes and none know their names. I say let us be remembered in infamy, for a villain never truly dies though he live only in legend. We could be bandit kings but why stoop to such a level when we can reach far higher and take what fate herself has denied us? I say we reach for the crown itself my friends! Let us supplant my brother and even my father the King!"

He continued to draw heavily from the mug of nameless liquid before him and was lost for many minutes in his treasonous expostulations. Whether he was serious or not, his friends could not tell but his words greatly disturbed them. They continued to listen and ape interest but the plot (what little of it there was, it was mostly grand words and misty aspirations) had quickly sobered them even as it chilled them to the bone. They were as empty inside as the prince but where they were content to enjoy all the privileges their rank could bestow, he had long ago failed to be pleased by such vapid entertainments. He was desperate for something to change and he had almost convinced himself that this was the only way. He finally finished his diatribe and drained his glass. He wandered home and his friends followed at a distance. They saw him safely to bed and then waited sleeplessly for the hour when the King would be abroad.

After an eon, dawn finally revealed her glory and they saw the crown prince emerge from his chambers; they hurried to tell him of his brother's embryonic treachery. He listened gravely to the miserable pair; they did not wish to betray their friend, but their friendship was not such that it would be worth their lives if they did not tell and were considered traitors by their silence and seeming complicity. They finished and the crown prince said, "let us to my father that he may hear these ill tidings."

They hastened to the King's chambers, awakened the slumbering monarch, and told again their terrible tale. The King began to fume and rage while the Queen begged him to be reasonable and speak with Bryant first, before calling for his head, which of course started a Royal argument.

The prince and the two lordlings quickly withdrew from the Royal bedchamber and the prince asked, "is my brother in jest, a drunken fool, or a true traitor?"

They shook their heads, "my lord, we know him little when he is sober; you had best ask him yourself."

The prince said, "I shall." He turned sharply on his heel and went to find his brother before their father could do something rash. Bryant was not happy to be so awakened, his head throbbed terribly, but he soon quit complaining when his brother told the reason for his visit. The elder said, "father may very well banish you for such talk if he does not simply call for your head! Are you in earnest?"

Bryant said quietly, "I am not sure, I need something to change and this is as good a scheme as any I can think of."

His brother said, "if it had been a drunken jest, perhaps father could be appeased but I am afraid his anger shall fall swiftly and harshly upon you." Bryant paled, said nothing, grabbed his sword belt and cloak, and fled the room. His brother silently watched him go. He did not wish to see his father's wrath realized but neither could he acknowledge this cold-hearted stranger as his brother. By the time the argument was settled and the guards were sent to bring the errant boy to face his father, he was long fled.

Bryant ran for his life. He was astonished to realize that he might perhaps be a murderous fiend if given the chance, at least if it granted him the end he sought. He had hoped it had all been the ravings of a drunkard but he was horrified to realize that under the right circumstances he might be capable of doing just as he had boasted. He fled his father's wrath but he could not flee the monster that was his own soul. He ran to the stable, found a saddled horse awaiting his rider, flung himself into the saddle, and galloped out of the courtyard. The servant that had been saddling the beast tried to pursue the prince with warning but to no avail; he had stolen a wild and dangerous animal that was stubborn beyond belief and resistant to even the cruelest methods of training. How he even stayed in the saddle was hard to imagine. He was a magnificent animal and had been brought as a gift to the crown prince by rich merchants as something of bribe, that he might remember them with favor when he succeeded his father. The creature was physically perfect but had a will of iron and would let no man on his back. The prince was the first to attain such a feat and that unknowingly. So they ran, and with the speed of the creature any other horse in the King's stables would have a hard time catching them. The beast would deign to be led and saddled but would carry neither men nor burdens. The crown prince had ordered him saddled and hoped to break him that very morning, hoping to succeed where all others had failed.

They ran hard all day on the shortest road out of the country. As night was falling they finally stopped, the prince collapsed against a tree just over the border. His heart sank and his hand reached for his sword as he heard the sound of galloping hooves drawing swiftly nigh. Six of his father's guards drew rein a bowshot from the prince and one aimed his arrow at the weary boy. The bowstring sang as the prince dove to the ground; the arrow embedded itself in the tree just above where his head had been. The guards then turned and rode off slowly into the dying day. Cautiously the prince stood and pulled the arrow from the tree. He found a small piece of paper attached to the shaft, which read, "know you now that you are henceforth banished from all the domains of Ithamar and all title, privilege, and rank is hereby denied you. If you should ever return, it will be as a criminal and an outlaw and your life is forfeit unless spared by the mercy of the King."

Bryant sighed and said to the night air, "I wanted things to change and they have, but not in the way I intended. I am now an exile, a wanderer, an outlaw, a fugitive, with no home, people, or place to call my own. I am a fool."

The sweat-lathered horse snorted and said, "you are certainly all of that, as am I, but you need not be a fool."

The prince sat down hard in surprise and exhaustion, saying, "horses do not talk."

The horse eyed him patiently and said, "perhaps, but then again it may be that just the horses of your acquaintance have never spoken. Either that or I am not a horse." He snorted wryly in amusement, as if he had said something rather clever.

Taking the hint, the former prince said, "if you are not a horse, then what are you?"

The unhorse said, "let us just say I have been banished from amongst my own noble and glorious people and reduced to the state in which you currently find me. I have been stripped of all that makes my people unique and left a mortal nag."

The unprince said, "and what did you do to become as you are? Who are your people and where do they come from?"

The unhorse said, "perhaps one day I shall tell you all the tale but for now you must suffice yourself with what I have already revealed. What of you?"

The boy sighed, "last night in a drunken rage I spoke of doing terrible things only to awaken and find that all know of my theoretical treachery and that some part of me is not averse to such acts. I can flee my father's wrath but I cannot run from my own wretchedness."

The horse looked at him thoughtfully and said, "until now I have revealed myself to no one, but trapped as I am, I shall go mad if I trust no one and soon shall think myself nothing but a silly horse in truth. Seeing as we are both rebels and outlaws, perhaps we can travel together for a time? I will allow you upon my back in exchange for your aid in keeping me out of the hands of strangers who would happily confiscate a wandering horse as I will seem if I travel alone."

The boy laughed weakly, "I admit to you that I am a traitor, willing to do murder and yet I alone of all men am the man you choose to trust?"

The horse said, "you have not yet killed anyone and the fact that you are horrified at your own thoughts means there is yet some hope for you. We are both rebels and outcasts, perhaps together we can find redemption upon the road. Besides, you are alone and desperate and need me as much as I need you. You shall not get far afoot."

"Where then shall we go?" asked the former prince.

The horse shook his head, "I do not know. Even if I returned to the lands of my people I would not be allowed to or even capable of entering that wondrous land. You have no skills or relations that might benefit you in the wide world?" The boy shook his head. The horse sighed, "then let us go north for now until something draws us elsewhere." The boy nodded his agreement, for one direction was as good as any other at the moment. They wandered off the road a short distance and the boy was soon asleep.

Morning came and the boy rose damp and stiff but much refreshed, but he had brought nothing to eat or to start a fire with. Neither did he have a bow. He had his sword and dagger upon his hastily grabbed belt; his belt pouch was full of coins but there was nowhere to buy breakfast. He refreshed himself in a swiftly running creek, saddled the horse, and they were soon off though the boy's stomach complained bitterly. The horse remarked, "it would be a far easier journey if you could sate yourself with grass as all sensible creatures do."

The boy laughed and said, "you are the only sensible herbivore I have ever met. All other creatures that go on four legs have remained thankfully silent."

The horse retorted, "that only proves their sense, for only man opens his mouth and makes sounds for no reason. At least doubt remains as to whether the silent beasts are truly fools or not; man has proved himself thus time and time again by his speech."

About midday they stopped in a small village and the boy purchased what he would need for the journey and some much appreciated food. They continued on until nightfall at which point, the boy made a rough camp as the horse wandered off for his nightly meal. They continued on in this manner for several days and nothing truly remarkable happened. They were traveling north through Sebeka: the neighboring Kingdom to Ithamar, a peaceful and prosperous country that welcomed strangers and most especially their coin.

The horse said one day as they rode along, "what know you of happenings in the wide world?"

The boy said, "I paid little attention to world events, current or historic, save for a little about our closest neighbors. Now I begin to regret my inattention to my studies, for now I see the use of them when previously I thought it all nonsense."

The horse said, "I know little of the countries of men, but I shall tell you what I know of your world in general. It is a vast place and there are many kings and kingdoms; some are prosperous and peaceful, others are evil and warlike, and there are all shades between. There is also much unclaimed and wild land wherein all manner of beasts and folk strange to men are to be found. Much of what you consider myth or legend is actually true and flourishes in such places. In the far south dwells an Evil Prince with much sway in the world. His minions ride wherever they will and do as they please, causing much grief amongst innocent folk. His kingdom is called the Infernal Realm and is separated from all else by impassable mountains, though any who wish can freely enter his gates. All is sere and waste within a hundred miles of those vile peaks and he holds sway over all within their shadow. Many of the Kings closest to his domain are his vassals and nearly as vile as he. He is a rebel against the Great King, who dwells far to the north in the Brightlands and once was His greatest servant. A great chasm in the earth, called the Rift by men, separates those dear lands from all others."

He continued, "it is said that the Rift is a actually a rift in time and space, having no bottom. No mortal can cross that chasm save by the will of the Great King or His dear Son, the True Prince whose will is always that of His Father. It is from the Blessed Mountains that rim the Brightlands that my own kin come and from thence was I banished. Between the Brightlands and the Infernal Realm are the Grey Lands, in which mortal men dwell and that encompass all you know as real. It is in this strange plane that you are born, live, and die. After you pass the gates of death you must enter either the Brightlands, if you are a willing subject of the Great King, else you come under the dominion of the Dark Prince and you will never more come forth from the Infernal Realms. One day the Great King will reclaim the Grey Lands and forever banish the Dark Prince beyond his own mountains and seal the gate that none may pass out again. Then will all the world be as it was meant to be, before rebellion brought death and sorrow upon the face of the earth."

The boy paled, "I have heard stories and legends of such things but never thought them more than tales. You tell me this is the truth! Whatever is a rebel of my standing to do? Am I doomed to dwell in that terrible place for all eternity?"

The horse shook his head, "I am a rebel myself and doomed to the same fate unless we can find a way out. My people are immortal, true and willing servants to the Great King, but alas I refused the duty He asked of me and I was thus banished. We never spoke of redemption, for we had no need of such a concept, but on these shattered shores on which I find myself the need is truly great. We must seek out one who can tell us this mystery."

The boy nodded glumly and hoped with all his heart that a way could be found out of this pit of his own making. At least he knew now why they rode north; he had no wish to be nearer those awful lands than he absolutely had to be. "What or who are we looking for?" asked the boy.

The horse said, "there are supposedly men abroad, servants of the Great King, knowledgeable in all things pertaining to Him and His dealings with fallen men. It is one of these learned men that we seek, to learn what must be done to redeem ourselves."

"Where are such folk to be found?" asked the boy.

The horse snorted in laughter, "an excellent question. I know little of mortal lands and know only what I have personally observed since my arrival in this dismal sphere and that which I have overheard men speak in my presence. Sadly, I seem to know more than you who were born in this place."

The boy nodded glumly, ashamed of all he had failed to learn in his life and of all the time he had spent drowning himself in a mug of ale. The boy said, "perhaps instead of isolating ourselves of an evening, I should visit the local tavern and see if I cannot learn something of these mystics you speak of?"

The horse nodded in approval, "an excellent proposition." They stopped early that evening, for they would not reach the next village before dark. The horse said to the boy, "be careful, for there are men who do not hold the Great King in high favor. The Dark Prince has spies and servants everywhere."

The boy smiled slightly, "you are worried for my safety?"

The horse smiled, "let us just say it would be a far more difficult journey alone." The boy's smile deepened as he entered the inn while the horse wandered off into the night.

The boy took a seat far to the back and watched quietly from his private corner. The innkeeper eyed him speculatively but said nothing, for he caused no trouble. The boy watched the quiet conversations, tavern games, and the comings and goings of the various patrons. He marked out several shady looking characters but saw no one who seemed an ideal source of information. Full dark fell outside the grimy windows as a ragged traveler traipsed into the inn and wandered to the back of the common room. He surveyed the men scattered about the establishment and his eyes fell upon the boy, obviously a fellow stranger in this place. He made his way to the back and asked if he might share the boy's small table. The boy was intrigued by the stranger and nodded eagerly. The man took a seat, the serving girl brought him a bowl of stew and some bread, and as he ate his meal he said, "what brings you to this place lad? One does not often see such youngsters wandering alone, save perhaps a few adventurous lads looking to be heroes."

The boy said, "I wander because I must. My past is behind and all my unknown future lies ahead. I seek hope in a hopeless world and peace for a disquiet heart."

The man smiled secretively and said quietly, "the world is not quite as hopeless as you might think, though sometimes it is dangerous to speak of that which is a light in even the darkest night. I am willing to speak with you but perhaps in a place less obvious?"

The boy nodded gravely and said, "my companion and I have ridden far in search of such knowledge. We are both wanderers seeking rest. What do you suggest?"

The man smiled, "let me finish my meal and then we shall talk for a time of trivialities to allay the suspicions of all here. Then you can wander off into the night and I shall follow when convenient. Wait for me along the road but well out of sight." The boy nodded and they proceeded as planned.

Half an hour after the boy had gone, the man trudged wearily out into the dark, a man obviously too poor to afford a bed in such a place. A few eyed him speculatively but returned to their drinks, seeing nothing obviously to their benefit in yet another penniless traveler. The man wandered out into the road and waited silently until the boy crawled out of hiding and drew his attention. They vanished down an overgrown trail into a little clearing. The moon stood high and gave enough light to cast their faces into shadow. "Where is your companion?" asked the curious man. The boy smiled silently in amused anticipation as a horse stepped out of the shadowed woods and stopped before the man, looking at him as if awaiting some reply. The man looked from the horse to the boy and back again.

"Well?" asked the horse, "I have been told that this little interlude shall be worth missing part of my evening repast."

The man gaped, "I have not had the pleasure of meeting a talking horse before, unless of course you are not actually a horse?"

The horse smiled in pleasure, "finally a man with some sense! Long have I hoped to meet such a specimen. I of course am no horse, save perhaps in appearance. And who pray tell are you and how come you to know more of wisdom than most men I have encountered?"

The man smiled in amusement and said, "who I am is of no particular import, save that I am a servant of the Great King and have seen many strange and wonderful things in my wanderings on His behalf. And who might you be, my curious friends?"

The horse snorted in amusement, "who we are matters as little as your identity. But know we are outcasts and rebels, seeking forgiveness and a brighter future. We have high hopes that you might be able to tell us of such things."

The man nodded, "as are all who roam these Grey Lands. What know you of the state of the world and that which lies beyond?"

The horse said, "we know of the Great King and the sundering of all those who have rebelled against Him, including the Dark Prince and all mankind. We seek to know if there is any way to restore what has been lost. Can a creature sundered from its Maker by rebellion and iniquity be restored to fellowship with Him?"

The man smiled, "that is the question that wrings the heart of all mortal creatures. A creature in willing rebellion against his King cannot do aught to redeem himself. For what is the worth of anything we can do of ourselves? Our greatest and noblest deeds are nothing but soiled rags to the Great King yet the least of our sins cuts His great heart like a knife."

The horse sighed, "then all is lost?"

The man smiled joyfully and said, "thankfully, no. We cannot redeem ourselves but One greater than us has paid the price for our folly; all we need do is accept the King's pardon on His behalf and live our lives in accordance with the will of our new Lord and Master."

The horse looked startled, "who could bear such a burden and yet be acceptable to the King?"

The man said grimly, "it was the King's own Son who bore the penalty of our rebellion, and for a moment even His own Father could not look upon Him for the shame He bore. He willingly left the Brightlands to dwell in infamy among mortals, only to meet a cruel and humiliating end and to give, as it seemed, a great victory to the Vile Prince, but that was not the end of the story. He overthrew death itself, bore the curse each of us should have borne ourselves, and was restored to His proper place beside His Father. The Vile Prince was dealt a mortal blow that shall one day be made complete when the True Prince returns in triumph to overthrow evil and death forever."

The boy said, "why would such a great and mighty Prince do that for the weak and wretched of the earth when He could dwell untroubled in glory?"

The man said in awe, "that is the mystery and the beauty of it. Some call it love, but such a love no mortal mind can comprehend. What will you make of this tale you have just heard? Will you go your way laughing at the foolishness of an old man while seeming to tolerate me while in my presence or will you take my tale as truth and give your life that you might save it?"

The boy asked nervously, "what must I do to accept this great offer?"

The man smiled and said, "simply repent of your evil in the name of the Son and seek to live your life according to the Father's will."

The boy frowned, "and how will I know His will?"

The man smiled, "you will know. If you are in earnest, the King's Spirit will be with and help you to know good from evil, right from wrong. You must seek out that which is good and noble and beautiful and pure. Flee that which is evil, ignoble, dishonest, wicked, selfish, and impure. Love all men as you love yourself and love the King with all that is within you."

"And what of me?" asked the horse.

"What of you?" asked the man, "you are a sapient creature in rebellion against the Great King and therefore capable of seeking His gift of redemption to Himself."

The horse said sadly, "but I have dwelt in the Blessed Mountains, across the River which mortal men call the Rift. I am one of the Pegassi and banished to dwell a mortal horse in these sad lands for refusing that for which my race is bred. Can even I seek this gift?"

The man smiled gently, "that you can ask that question and worry about its answer should be answer enough. Seek the King and I think you have nothing to fear. Were you yet of a stubborn and proud heart and refused His gift, I think there would be no hope, but yet your heart is supple, humble, and willing. I have no fear for you."

The horse was stunned, "how come you to know my sin?"

The man smiled ruefully, "the root of all sin is pride and selfishness. For that is the crime of the Dark Prince and Enemy of the Great King. A humble and meek heart is hardly capable of such aspirations."

The boy then asked, "and what shall I do with my life once I have accepted the King as Lord and Master? Must I become a wandering raconteur like you?"

The man laughed, "perhaps that will be your duty but perhaps not. There are many things the King's servants are called to do. You will know in your heart that which you must do if you fervently ask it of the King. You say you are a rebel and an outlaw? I would advise you to return to the place from whence you have fled and face the justice that is due you and the forgiveness of those you have wronged. Only then can you seek what life has in store."

The boy was aghast, "I thought accepting the Son freed me from all iniquity and the penalties attendant thereunto."

The man smiled sadly, "He frees us from the eternal penalties for such actions but we must yet face the mortal consequences of our actions while life lasts. You cannot be right with the King if you are not right with your brothers."

The boy was stunned, "how did you know I had wronged my brother?"

The man smiled, "I meant your fellow men not just your male siblings. Go home and make things right child and remember to forgive others as you seek to be forgiven."

They talked long into the night but finally succumbed to exhaustion. They parted company in the morning, each continuing on his own journey, missing the other as if losing a dear friend though they had known each other only for a few hours. The horse, Erian by name, chose to accompany the boy home, that he might make amends to his father and brother and face whatever justice they chose to mete out. The traveler went on his way to seek out those who, like his former companions, were desperate for the truths he carried.

The journey was swiftly made, the boy was not happy to perhaps be facing death but felt such a peace and purpose within himself that he did not fear the future, even if it meant his demise. The horse did not wish to go back into captivity but he and the boy had discussed it and if things went ill with the boy, the horse could easily escape once someone took him out of the great walled city for a ride in the country. If the boy survived the encounter with his father and was not imprisoned for life, they thought to seek the Master's will for their lives together. Erian never thought to develop such an attachment to a human but was happy to again have a friend, though he dreaded what end the boy might meet at the hands of his own kin. He had rather come to enjoy their time together and hoped he would not soon be alone again. Finally they crossed the borders into Ithamar and would soon face the wrath of the King. It was not long before six soldiers in the uniform of the Royal Guard came upon them. They were stunned to learn who the lonely stranger was and wasted no time in drawing their swords to take the rebel and traitor.

The boy drew his own sword and dagger, but only to throw them to the ground and then placed his hands on his head in surrender. The captain nearly fell out of his saddle in wonder but feared the boy might be trying his hand at some trick. He ordered his men forward and they surrounded the boy with swords bared. The captain searched the boy, cruelly bound his hands behind his back, and took the reins of the 'silly horse.' One of his men retrieved the boy's weapons and they set out in triumph for the city. They said nothing to the rebel, save to mock him in his shameful return; the boy refrained from speaking. They entered the city and the citizens mocked and jeered as he passed while cheering the brave soldiers who had captured the renegade. The King had widely publicized the incident and its consequences, and the boy was already unpopular with the citizenry after his many intoxicated adventures in the city's various inns. They arrived in the courtyard of the castle, many were the servants and guards who for a moment stood about in abject shock, before hustling off to inform the King of his ignominious guest. The boy slid form his saddle under the watchful eyes of a dozen armed men; he smiled sheepishly at the horse, who whinnied in reassurance as he was led away to the stables.

The boy was taken to meet his father with all the court and his entire family looking on. The boy stood before their Majesties, head bowed and tears burning in his eyes. The King wore a grim look while his mother's eyes held silent shame and horror that one of her own children could be so terrible. The King said in a voice like thunder in the hills, "what have you to say for yourself? I half expected you to return with an enemy army, come to force your point, if you returned at all."

The boy could stand it no longer, and fell to his knees before his father as the court gasped in amazement. The King's jaw dropped and for the first time hope lit the Queen's face. The boy said, "I fled a proud and foolish boy. I return in shame and dishonor, but duty bids me to return and face what my shameful acts have earned."

"Duty?" scoffed the King, "what know you of duty?"

The boy wept openly, "I know very little Sire, but I could not go on living knowing your wrath yet hung over my head. Know that I am guilty of all that you have heard. I am also guilty of living wantonly and selfishly, with no regard for any save myself. I return to you a broken and humbled child. Forgive my idiocy and irreverent thoughts and deeds. Let justice be met in your eyes, as well as in the eyes of the court and all the citizens of Ithamar."

The King gaped, "you are my son, are you not?" The boy met his father's befuddled gaze; the man saw the truth of the boy's words written in eyes, red with weeping. The King shook his head and said, "I threatened you with death should you have the gall to return, but I also spoke of the possibility of mercy. Tell me truly, is this drastic change of heart real or simply a ploy to spare your life?"

The boy said, "my life is yours to take if you will it thus. This shattered wretch you see before you is the man I have become in my absence; it is no act."

The King shook his head, "and what has engendered such a change? You fled a traitor and return an honorable man that I would not be ashamed to call my son."

The boy smiled weakly and said, "I have discovered that there is more to life than my own selfish and empty desires. I have found Him who can forgive my past and shortcomings and Who enables me to become more than I could ever aspire to be. I am a servant of the Great King and His blessed Son."

At this admission the whole court was suddenly in uproar. They of course had heard the tales and thought them all stories and wishful thinking, for there could be no Great King any more than there was a Dark Prince or unicorns or griffins. Such things were simply bedtime tales to teach children morality and hasten them to sleep and nothing more. The King was enraged, "I begin to offer you mercy and you dare blame your radical transformation on children's tales?"

The boy said quietly, "they are not stories Sire, they are the truth and the only hope for mankind. Am I not living proof of their power?"

The King shook his head, satisfied that the boy did not mock him, but fearful that he was a lunatic. Finally he said, "I have stripped you of all rank and title and this I cannot and will not restore. However, seeing your change of heart, I will spare you from death. You may come and go freely within Ithamar and all its domains but only as a commoner. You have no rank or privilege among the nobility unless one of us cares to humor you for a time. What say you?"

In Which Miss Iris Misses Tea

Excerpt from 'Of Tea... and Things'

There she stood in her second best dress on the front steps of her husband's marvelous and imposing townhouse, clutching the most disreputable portmanteau in the staff's possession, or at least the most scandalous specimen that could be procured on short notice. She would not even have been allowed to keep the dress, had it not been considered quite improper to allow her back inside to change into something less grand. She had never imagined when she had stepped out that morning to make a call upon a certain influential social matron that she would be facing such a crisis upon her return, had she known that to be the case, she at least would have worn her Best Dress, a scandal in its own right certainly, but one easily overlooked in the even deeper scandal that had washed over her with all the rage and suddenness of a tsunami. Of course she had never worn the Best Dress, no one did, not unless the Queen herself happened to stop by unannounced for tea! Her current surprise was no less had that been the shock awaiting her but it was certainly far less pleasant, or so she assumed, never having had tea with Her Majesty, she could not be quite certain, but she thought it was at least probable.

She tried to plead again with the dour faced butler but he only shook his head grimly and pointed harshly down the road, as if she were naught but a beggar woman squatting upon the doorstep rather than his mistress of a decade. Former mistress it seemed. Said the appalled housekeeper, from behind the grim brute of a butler who seemed suddenly all brawny shoulders, a feature she had never before paid much heed, "move along miss, it would not do to make a scene."

With a final sigh, her shoulders slumping and her elegant train trailing dejectedly after her, Iris descended the proud and fashionable steps, wondering what the society papers would say on the morrow and how many hidden eyes were watching from behind seemingly vacant windows. There was no sense arguing, it was just the way things were. She had forgotten, well she knew this day might come, but she had hoped something would happen to spare her such an ignomious fate, that her husband's fondness for her would somehow protect her, that he might forget, but it seemed that he had not and no amount of love, however inordinate, could make up for the indignity she had caused him, the insult was unforgivable and imperiling his family line as she had was perhaps the greatest indignity of all, if not a crime in and of itself.

'Miss,' the word haunted her, she who had only that morning stepped out as Mrs. Iris Andromeda Baren Candor Donaldo Eveleff Garand Hatt Indigo...Zebula. Twenty-six surnames, one for each letter of the alphabet, outlining her husband's extensive, impressive, and most ancient lineage, but now she was simply 'miss.' She opened the bag hopefully, for perhaps her future lay therein, but there was nothing within, save a few sentimental knickknacks she had brought with her upon her most fortuitous marriage. Once fabulously wealthy, her material worth was now as diminished as her name. She had a few coins about her person, a surplus of lace handkerchiefs, and a fan, but nothing else save the clothes on her back and the hat on her head. Perhaps she could still return home, she doubted it, but it was the only thing she could think of to spare herself from an even less desirable fate.

She raised a hand to hail a cab, a thing no proper lady would do, for that is what one had servants for, so it took no little time to actually attract that attention of a driver and get him to pull his overworked nag over to the side of the pavement whereon her former ladyship stood. They assumed she was having a fit or communicating with some other personage or fainting or something appropriately ladylike, not trying to get the attention of such a loathsome creature as a cabby. But at last someone did dare to thwart all common reason and social propriety and pulled over to see what the perplexing dame was up to, but not before a rather scandalous looking person, who made Iris's skin crawl even at a distance, sidled up to her most knowingly and said in very familiar tones, "there's but one thing for you to do miss, you're still a pretty-ish thing, and don't you worry, we'll be waiting when you finally resign yourself to reality." He winked at her in a most reprehensible fashion and then slouched off rather too smugly for anyone's comfort but his own.

Iris shuddered in revulsion as she climbed into the cab, gave her address, and tried not to think as they rolled off in the direction of her childhood home. She couldn't, absolutely not! But if her parents likewise disowned her, it would be her only option. But no, they wouldn't, they couldn't! But they did. The cab drew up in a very unfashionable part of town and she paid him his fare, all she had left and with nothing extra for his trouble. She couldn't tell if he was angry, scandalized, or seemed to understand her plight, so blank were his face and eyes, the result of a lifetime of carrying to and fro those whose business was none of his. The vehicle rattled off and she prepared to face her parents, hoping against hope that they would not see things as all of society did, that this scandal was none of her own doing, but they undoubtedly would.

Her father was a craftsman, he worked with his hands, and while he made a good living for his large family, such a family was not likely to be the source of a bride for one of society's elite; it just wasn't done. So it was quite the fairy tale to those who knew the family, and quite the scandal to everyone else, when his Lordship had chosen Iris to be his bride. It was the habit of some of the great lords' sons and certain wealthy young bucks to go 'slumming' amid the lower classes as both a form of amusement and a means of temporally escaping the stuffy and inflexible world into which they had been born. They'd don 'rough' clothes and attend a public ball in the less affluent parts of town and dance the night away with many a miller's daughter and tradesman's niece. It was in just such an environment that Iris met her husband, well former husband, and he was so taken with her that he insisted on marrying her.

Many insisted that he would one day rue his choice, mostly those with eligible daughters of their own, and today seemed to be proving them right. She was neither rich nor powerful nor did she know anyone who was, but her family was respectable, if middle class, but most importantly, she came of a large and healthy family. Her mother had been prolific in the production of children and he had no doubt that it was a trait his admired lady would likewise possess. So they were married, much to the delight of everyone who had any care or love for the happiness of those involved, but all others were appalled, most especially his peers and relations. Gradually they got used to the idea and the scandalized talk and impolite remarks vanished into the background as other, more interesting scandals arose to replace them, but they would no doubt spring back to life after today's little affair.

It was exactly ten years and nine months to the day since she wed what she thought was the love of her life, but here she stood outside the door of her childhood home, hoping that her parents would welcome her home once more. But the unemotional maid that answered the door did not look like a bearer of gladsome tidings, said she in a scandalized tone, "please come round to the back, miss, the front door is only for proper visitors."

Ugh! At least they answered the door, perhaps they just wanted to avoid more public scandal, best to keep this affair away from prying eyes in any case. She hustled to the door that opened off a side alley into the kitchens, hoping to find peace at last, but she was merely handed a few table scraps for her trouble and told that the master of the house, though not unkindly, was not prone to humor beggars who repeatedly accosted his servants. Beggar?! But in truth that's what she was, she had dared marry into one of the Great Families, and in failing to uphold her part of the bargain, after the legally prescribed period, she was cast back into the street, and having thus embarrassed herself and all the Greats so thoroughly, her family dared not offer her succor, lest they seem complicit in the eyes of all society in this most unfortunate affair. There were also yet children at home and the presence of such a specter lurking about the house would undoubtedly affect their chances of marrying well, or at all. To them and all society, it was as if she had never been. She wasn't even considered as one dead, one who at least had lived and would be missed, rather she no longer existed and never had.

What was left to her? She considered the filthy and disreputable man who had accosted her, almost as dreadful as her handbag, but she shuddered in disgust, she'd rather starve! Staring down bleakly at her meager handful of scraps, the only legacy her parents would bequeath her, she knew she very well might. But it would be far better to die an honest, though wretched death, than to play the harlot for her bread. But was there no other choice? She sighed heavily as she slunk out of the alley, little heeding where she was going but knowing she could no longer remain where she was, all of her attention was focused inward on the disaster that was now her life.

It wasn't her fault, or so she hoped, she really didn't mean to be barren, she came of fruitful stock on both sides, but in those ten years and nine months, she had never given her husband even the hope of a child. But as far as society saw it, she had deceived him, wasted precious time in which he might have been fathering children, endangered the stability of the family line, for what would happen if he died without leaving children? She did have to smile, in a grim and ironic sort of way, that she had had ten years and nine months, just in case she happened to conceive on the last day of the prescribed ten years, you never could tell, but as she had not produced an heir in the final nine months either, she was unceremoniously cast from her home and society, driven from safety and security like a common thief. And now her only hope was to become a harlot, this too elicited that grimly amused smile, for what safer woman for such a job? There being so slight a chance of producing bastard children and the lady herself being cast out of all decent society, in desperate need of both sustenance and protection.

Better to face the Wilds than suffer such a fate! She stood on the edge of town, her unwitting wanderings having brought her thus, near one of the great gates that opened in the wall surrounding the city and allowed traffic in and out during daylight hours, but which were firmly shut every evening to keep Things out. What Things, she had never rightly heard, it wasn't proper for her young female mind to be apprised of such Things, but rest assured, between the Wall and the Watch, she'd not need to worry about any of them. She just needed to focus on finding a decent husband. Well, that and having a superfluity of children. She had succeeded quite well in the first case but failed abysmally in the second. With a heavy sigh, she marched straight out the gate and into the wide world without and none dared stop her, for though a lady of breeding NEVER left the Walls without a proper escort, it was even more taboo to interfere with such, no matter how improper seemed her intentions.

She had travelled abroad several times with her husband upon various errands and visits, but she had never left town alone and afoot before, certainly not as a girl, for even people of her father's lowly social status had Standards. But she was quite thoroughly disgusted with Standards and for a time relished the odd looks shot her way by the various farmers, tradesmen, and servants that passed her by upon their own errands. She found it quite exhilarating at first, to be thwarting social conventions so thoroughly; cast her out would they?! Well, she might just as well spurn them! She'd leave of her own accord and that was that. The leaving part was easy, it was what was to be done afterwards that terrified her enough that the ratty man's offer didn't seem so bad upon recollection, but she chastised herself as a milk-hearted sniveler and kept marching further away from the only life she had ever known, but just what was she speeding towards?

Things. Oh why oh why would they not tell her about Things?! Not knowing was probably worse than the most horrid truth, then she must resort to making things up and a young girl's imagination could be quite gruesome, likely more so than the actual reality. Well, this was her big chance to find out. And whatever her fate, it couldn't be worse than harlotry, not that she knew much about that either, just enough to encourage her to produce a baby or ten lest it be all her future. She started to cast back within her mind, seeking stories, rumors, gossip, lies, anything she could remember of life outside the city, beyond the town, things her brothers discovered in their studies, overheard snippets of the servants' gossip, gran's fireside tales, the talk amongst her father's friends over their pipes when she was thought long abed.

Of course she had been taught, as all decent and proper young ladies were, about the Old World, and the Ancient Days, of all the horrible and uncouth things that had happened before civilization and decency and Standards, when the world was wild and young and wide, when people were the myth and all sorts of uncouth folk roamed the earth. But all that happened in another age, another time, probably in another place, for nothing very interesting ever happened in or near the city, at least that she had ever heard of, at least not interesting to her, she didn't consider the latest social scandal intriguing in the least, which may be why she never quite fit in to Society, children or not.

As the day began to fade into evening, she allowed herself a brief respite from her introspection to take the lay of the land and consider what might be her best option for the imminent night. The fields and pasturelands and neat little coppice woods that had straddled the road for the entirety of the journey suddenly gave way before her to a wood seemingly as dark and expansive as the night sky that seemed intent upon devouring all that remained of the dying day. The road itself skirted this impressive forest by a wide margin, continuing on its prim and proper way, seemingly contemptuous of the wild and unkempt country that bordered one side. Well, thought she, Society and their Standards have utterly cast me out, why should I tread their roads and prescribed paths any longer? So with a shrug of defiance, she stepped off the smug little road and clove her way into the murky and trackless wood.

The first thing she noticed was that her fashionable garb, though quite suited to the trackless wastes of societal gatherings, was quite a hindrance in actual trackless wastes. The second was that it was quite dark, as if one had foolishly locked oneself inside a wardrobe. Unable any longer to ascertain what was before her, and tripping most inelegantly over some branch or rock, and even uncertain where the edge of the forest now lay, she could do little but sit down and cry, for at last her heart had caught up with her mind, originally numbed by the shock of it all, she had been able to act almost dispassionately, but out here, at last, her sorrow and fears overtook her. Of course proper ladies were not allowed to cry, but as she was no longer of that ilk, she unashamedly wept her little heart out until at last she passed blissfully into unknowing sleep.

"She did what?!" said the astonished, though otherwise thoroughly tidy, man in wonder.

"She vanished into that dratted Wood, sir," said the equally flabbergasted henchman, adding quickly, "I offered her the usual and assumed she'd come begging the moment she discovered just how limited her options were. I never took her for the outdoorsy type."

"If she was just some common trollop," began the distinguished looking man, dressed to the height of current fashion, as he pensively paced the room, "it would be of no matter if she did choose to so lose herself and be set upon by Things. No one would care or notice, but this chit was special! I had a double-sided list as long as my arm of gentlemen callers wanting to make her acquaintance. It is not often such a scandal rocks Society and when it does, our men of Fashion should be able to take advantage of it. She's costing me money, lots of money, and worse, notoriety! Her reputation alone is worth more than five of my most talented ladies combined." He glared at the hapless minion as if this whole fiasco was his fault, "have we no options?"

"You know no one who goes into that Wood ever returns," stuttered the terrified henchman, "at least in a recognizable form."

"True," sighed the dandy, "too true, you should have just kidnapped her outright."

"Knowing what we do now, I would have, but I like to give them the chance to despair first," smiled the lackey wickedly, "it makes their final surrender and despair all the sweeter and seems to even make them grateful to us for saving them from utter ruin."

"Why can't she just be reasonable like every other girl in the realm?" mused the cad in a gentleman's garb.

"There were whispers you know, sir," said the flunky in dubious and hushed tones.

"Yes," slurred that non-gentleman, "and if true, perhaps she would have been a most troublesome acquisition indeed. But was there truly any proof that she did, indeed," he paused cautiously, as if to ensure they were truly alone before continuing in a quieter voice, as he uttered the astonishing word, "read?"

"I managed to speak to several of her former staff, both in her husband's and her father's house, and they agreed that she did in fact do just that," said the sub-villain, not daring even to say the dastardly deed aloud.

"It is not," mused the senior villain, "that a lady cannot be allowed to read, but it is her choice of literature that is of the utmost import. You are certain it was not just flimsy novels and the society papers?"

"Nay milord," said the henchman grimly, "it was books, solid and heavy books, any she could lay hand to, not that it was an easy thing in her social circumstances, but they say she found rather creative ways to go about it, vulgar chit!"

"Does she know something we do not about that forest or Things?" asked he.

"I doubt it sir," said the henchman boldly, "for even the most well read of men knows little of that cursed Wood, and whatever means she used to contrive access to a book, it is very unlikely she would come across anything helpful in that regard when men with ready access to such information know nothing."

"Quite true," said the non-gentleman in growing good humor, "perhaps she would have been quite an encumbrance to own, a pity, but perhaps it is for the best after all."

While Iris could see nothing going on around her, not only because she was sleeping as one dead, but also because that peculiar Wood was draped in an unnatural night, that did not mean things weren't going on. While all the human folk in those parts thought this particular Wood haunted, cursed, forsaken, et cetera, it was really none of those things, for it was always near to bursting with activity of various sorts and tenanted by some of the most upstanding individuals imaginable, though perhaps they did not recognize the Standards as holy writ, which was probably the main argument against calling such folk civilized, they were quite civilized in their own particular way, one which Society might very well have called uncouth, could they ever glimpse such a spectacle of course. But as they couldn't, all were kindly spared that sort of unpleasantness.

"A lady?!" said a very astonished voice, lurking in the shrubbery near where said lady reposed in quite un-Standard fashion.

"Quite," chuckled a second voice in reply.

"Of all the strange and wonderful things one might glimpse in this peculiar Wood," mused the first, "this is one spectacle I never thought to see."

"Anything is possible here," said the second voice in ill-suppressed amusement.

"Anything out of the ordinary," agreed the first, "but such a spectacle is quite ordinary in the outer world."

"But it would be a peculiar scene here and thus one would think it quite possible, along with all the other impossible scenes one might certainly witness herein," continued the second, no longer hiding his mirth.

"I suppose your reasoning must be sound," said the first with a shake of his head, "if not here, then certainly somewhere." He glanced back at the sleeping lady, "but it seems so mundane."

"Again you are stating the obvious, my friend," smiled the second, "please stop!"

"But then what shall we speak of?" quoth the first with a wry grin.

"Now who is the one being mundane?" laughed the second outright.

"True," said the first ruefully, "I sound like some oblivious gentleman at a societal function where we can speak nothing but the blatantly obvious."

"The lady's presence is corrupting you already," said the second in feigned horror, "what will happen to the balance of our acquaintance?"

"Dreadful thought indeed!" agreed the first, but lapsing into sudden silence as the lady in question stirred.

"Who is there?" queried she, trying to sound valiant and unafraid but managing only to sound like a lonely kitten mewing forlornly in a dark alley. Iris glanced about her futilely, all about her hidden in mist and shadow. At least the utter black of night had given way to a twilit world of murky shadow but she was still nearly as blind, not even able to see her feet amidst the brume, but she was quite certain she had been wakened by voices.

The first looked at the second in question, he only shrugged and stepped forward out of the swirling mists, that the lady might know what it was that lurked unseen just beyond sight. She gasped to see that she was not alone in this surreal world, but as she had been anticipating Things, two gentlemen dressed in quality but conservative evening dress were not exactly what she had been expecting, seeing her quickly hidden look of disappointment, the first said to the second, "see, she was thinking to discover something less mundane in this peculiar Wood as well." Upon which, all exchanged Standard greetings, before the first spoke once more, "how come you here madam and may we be of any assistance?"

She fought valiantly but the tears still came, said she through her sobs and hiccups, "I am quite at a loss, gentlemen, for I've been Forsaken by kith and kin, cast out for the most heinous of offenses. I wonder that you would even deign speak with me."

The first man could not suppress a grin, "we don't often get to read the society papers, milady. You will be happy to know that your society's standard is not ours."

She blinked at him as if he had said he routinely employed an ostrich in lieu of a carriage horse, said she in some befuddlement, "what then is your Standard? I know I am Outcast, but if you are equally so, have you not turned bandit or outlaw or something equally uncivilized?"

"Your society certainly would not approve of our various goings on, madam," assured the second, his own grin as wide as his fellow's, "but we are far from lawless men. Indeed, we cling to a standard even higher and older than that to which you refer."

She smiled sadly at these poor benighted men, lost so long in the dark and mist that they must truly have lost all sense of decency and propriety, not to mention physical direction, but then again, it was the Standards that had proclaimed she must be cast from all decent company and protections for an act which was not willfully done and was in nowise her fault and said that her former kith and kin must have nothing whatsoever to do with her ever again whilst these respectable seeming gentlemen were at least treating her as a real and valuable person.

Said she in polite ignorance, "I suppose there must be other Standards in the world, those that govern conduct say in former times or distant places, perhaps it is of this you speak?"

"Something like that indeed, my lady," said the first with a grandiose bow, "but come, what crime or perception thereof has driven you so far from home?"

They both blinked in wonder at her brief tale, said the second, "and how is it you chose to flee to this peculiar Wood, whose reputation may be even worse among fashionable folk than even the flesh dealers that offered you succor?"

"I've never heard aught of this Wood, either good or ill," said she simply, "women are not told such things. I've tried to read up on things, not Things mind you, but anything I could lay hands on, but even that study was limited, for it is thought quite uncouth for a woman, particularly one of my standing, to know things, especially about Things." She brightened significantly at this, "now that I am a woman of ill-repute, will you tell me about the Things?"

"What things?" queried the first in confusion.

"You know!" said she a bit abashedly, "the reason the city has walls, the Things they are meant to keep out!"

The men exchanged a rather amused grin, at which she frowned, thinking their mirth sprang from her ignorance, but the second reassured her, "I am not sure why they built the walls if they think to repel Things from within this Wood, that is utterly ridiculous, but perhaps your folk do not understand that or it makes them feel better regardless, but either way, if the walls were meant to keep your folk safe from Things within the Wood, they are sorely mistaken."

"I see," said she rather lamely, but perked up as she considered, "still, if they are afraid of Things, there must be a reason and I would dearly love to learn it."

"I am afraid what your folk fear and the actual reality of the situation are two very different things, milady," said the first with a regretful shake of his head, continuing swiftly as she tried to interject eagerly, "and some of those truths cannot be imparted to you, for either the world is not ready or is forbidden from knowing or even we know not the truth of the matter."

She shut her eagerly gaping mouth and merely broached a disappointed, "oh," feeling again a little girl whose father had just told her serious books were not within the proper domain of womenfolk.

"That and there is not time enough between now and the end of days to thoroughly discuss such a topic," added the second hurriedly.

"So you are saying," mused she, "that though much must yet remain hidden from my ravenously curious mind, there are still enough facts of interest to keep me thoroughly occupied for the rest of my born days?"

"Certainly miss," grinned the first, "the better question would be, what do you need to know, what would be the most important topic to begin your education?"

She stood and brushed the residual brush from her hopelessly rumpled dress, touched her now feral hair with an appalled hand, only to discover her stylish hat was also missing, and said in resignation, "I suppose one's wardrobe and appearance are not of the utmost import within this wild wood of yours? If the residents hereof are not at all concerned with mortal walls, I would assume physical appearance would also be of little import?" Both men offered her a smart half bow of affirmation, their eyes sparkling in delight at her quick assessment of the situation and seemingly innate understanding thereof. She glanced around morosely at the unpromising gloom and asked, "and I suppose what I can see of this dismal place is hardly to be used as a measure to judge the Wood as a whole or even in part?"

"Indeed!" agreed the second happily, "you have a fine grasp upon the situation, for having just arrived and being..." He trailed off awkwardly, not knowing how to state the obvious in a delicate and politic manner.

She grinned at him, quite like an excited and unabashed child, "being a former society matron?"

"Quite," seconded the first.

"I suppose the most important matter to determine is what is to come of me?" she gazed at her interlocutors earnestly.

"I suppose we cannot just throw her back?" grinned the second in a most impish fashion.

At this, the lady gaped unwittingly like the metaphorical fish to which she had just been compared, little realizing that she had likewise committed a faux pas of vast egregiousness along with her companion: that of comparing a lady to an aquatic animal, it just was not done, at least not in proper circles, but as she glanced about once more, she was reminded just how far removed she now was from those very circles and decided to let the perceived insult pass unremarked, whereat the first came magnanimously to her rescue with, "you shouldn't compare a lady to a fish, my friend, not on any account."

"I suppose not," agreed the second, "but our quandary still remains, bad metaphors aside."

"It does at that," frowned the first pensively, eyeing the lady, he asked, "and what shall come of you madam?"

"I haven't a clue," said she morosely, "I was hoping you could tell me!"

"The outer world has utterly forsaken you," mused the second aloud, "yet you have no official place or standing within the Wood."

"Must I?" queried she, all curiosity.

The first nodded grimly, "aye madam, for without it you would find yourself in grave peril, for there are many factions and an ever shifting balance of power and most of the denizens have little love for mortals. At best they would ignore you, but there are many who would do far worse for the temerity you have shown in violating their Wood."

Her eyes narrowed as she studied them anew, "yet you are not afraid to go gallivanting about as it pleases you?" They both smiled at this, an irksome gesture, reminiscent of a smug and mysterious cat, with just as much hope of prying a satisfactory answer out of them as to the significance thereof. Sighed she in obvious disdain, "fine, keep your secrets! I can only then assume that I cannot safely depend upon physical appearance as a concrete sign of anything in this odd place?"

"You are quite correct, milady," agreed the first, "hope may be found within a monstrous guise and danger in the most innocuous."

"So you are not two gentlemen of means and leisure who have happened upon me in my hour of need?" asked she.

"We have happened upon you in your hour of need, quite providentially if I may add," said the second.

"And we are certainly Gentlemen, at least as the term should be defined, though not as the word is realized in your society," added the First.

"And we are certainly not men of leisure," chuckled the Second.

Added the First, "but we certainly have the means to accomplish the necessary."

"So what is to come of me?" asked she plaintively.

"What are your wishes and desires madam?" retorted the First.

"I want to belong somewhere," said she pensively, "to not be judged by things beyond my control. To be valued for what I am, rather than for what I am not or what I own or to whom I was born or for what I might do."

"The search of every quivering soul," nodded the Second.

"Can I find it?" asked she, hoping against hope, "here or anywhere?"

"It is quite attainable," smiled the First, "if you truly desire it."

"I do!" said she, "who doesn't?"

"Everyone desires it of course," said the First, "but most prefer to attempt to attain it in their own way, by their own power or cunning or strength, but it can only be attained one way."

"The Standards?" asked she nervously.

"Is your society's attempt at attaining it, yes," nodded the Second sagely, "but it is not the true Way."

"Good!" said she with a sigh of relief, "for I've tried it and found it extremely vexatious and thoroughly wanting." Her eyes narrowed suddenly, "how can you be so certain there is only one Way? That sounds rather myopic and closed minded if there are as many different cultures, tribes, traditions, and peoples in the world and even beyond it as you imply?"

"What does your society think of any that don't hold their Standard dear?" countered the First.

"We think them uncivilized heathens," said she at once, narrowing her eyes in thought and adding, "which makes me wonder if the truly civilized way to look at the matter is to see that perhaps there are many roads to the same destination?"

"And what would happen if you found a road and started traveling thereupon, assuming it must bear you wherever you had a mind to go regardless of whither it truly went?" asked the Second.

"That is ridiculous," giggled she, "a road can only go betwixt the places it is built; my wishes mean nothing."

"Should not the same be true of attempting to attain a certain end?" queried the first, "If you wish to obtain milk, one does not approach an obliging rock or climb a tree. Your society is right in its assumption that their Standard must be seen as the only way to achieve their desired end or chaos and confusion would result, even if they are wrong about the means thereof. They have the right idea but the wrong road."

"Humph," grunted she in disgust, realizing how much of a waste her life had been up until this very moment, but brightening added, "so how is one to attain the proper end?"

"Take the right road," said the First cryptically.

"Show me this way, then," urged she.

"It will cost you everything, milady," said the Second quietly.

"I have nothing left," countered she.

"Materially speaking, perhaps," agreed the First, but adding, "but what of your hopes, dreams, fears, doubts, time, preferences, prejudices, opinions, and physical being, all that makes up your heart, mind, body, and soul?"

"I must become nothing?" said she in growing alarm.

The Second shook his head minutely and said quietly, so much so that she had to strain to hear him, "we are nothing, or rather, each of us is accounted as nothing when compared to that which we seek. It is none of our doing, we come naked and empty handed, filthy and alone, disgusting beggars with nothing to recommend us."

She was trembling, whether in fear or anticipation, perhaps both, she scarcely knew, but licking her lips, she said just as quietly, "I am utterly wretched, beneath these fancy rags lurks nothing of worth or substance, yet you say it need not be so?"

"Aye, milady," smiled the First in growing anticipation, "in forsaking what we think we want, only then can we discover that which we truly need."

"Then show me," said she eagerly. The two gentlemen exchanged one of those maddeningly mystifying looks, bowed graciously to the lady, and then the world spun into blackness, dark as starless night.

### Excerpt from, 'On Sleeping Beauties: A Foible'

"No, no, no!" rang the irate fairy's strident voice as she perused the text before her, "this will never do, not in the least! That's not how it happened at all!"

"What's wrong with it?" gasped her journalistic companion in surprise, "I thought you were a Reformed Evil Fairy or some such?"

Her glare froze him in his seat as she replied icily, "that does not mean I will swoon and sigh over this pathetic drivel you have the audacity to call literature. Not even my goody-goody sister is that insipid."

"But what is wrong with it?" said the flummoxed, and rather nervous, writer in growing despair.

"The better question," said the fairy wryly, "is what is right with it. Nothing! Absolutely nothing!" She frowned slightly and added, "that and it is utterly dull."

"Dull?!" said he, his ire suddenly replacing his fear and surprise, "it is the consummate fairy tale!"

"That's the problem," said she with a heavy sigh, "I've had to give up the genre entirely in these latter years; it probably isn't your fault, the world isn't what it used to be. I suppose you don't even believe in dragons?"

"Of course not," said the man with a sneer, "why should I? Nor unicorns either, for that matter."

"So you can put a rider on your home insurance policy, of course" said the fairy with a laughing smirk, "what happens if a dragon should happen to fly over your house and sneeze?" He paled at this, wondering if his disbelief were so wise and trendy after all. She continued, "as for unicorns, there's not really any practical reason to believe in them, but it's to your own loss if you don't." He frowned at her, not catching her meaning but she was not about to enlighten him further.

Said he after a long and awkward silence, "very well, madam, I suppose since I importuned you for this very reason. You had best tell me how to improve my manuscript."

"Much better," said the Reformed Fairy of Blackfen, with something almost resembling a genuine smile. She took up the paper again and scanned the text, muttering under her breath as she read, "big party...angry fairy...the girl will die...irritating cousin mitigates the curse...pricks her finger on a spindle...long nap...smooch from a handsome prince...happily ever after." She looked up at him and said solemnly, "if you must know, it is very tedious indeed." His mouth fell open in astonishment but she charged on before he could utter anything he might afterwards regret, as he was in the presence of a magical person who did not suffer fools lightly, said she, "your characters have no personality, your plot has no depth, there isn't even a sprinkling of humor in it, the danger and suspense is nonexistent as we all know the prince will come eventually. That and it's historically inaccurate."

"Fine," grumped the journalist, sitting back in his chair, arms crossed, and the look of a sulking toddler on his face, "enlighten me."

"Oh, that I will," said the fairy in true delight as she tossed the paper aside, laughed she, "and it doesn't even begin with 'Once upon a time:'

"I need a baby," said the noble lady to her husband as he entered their extensive and fashionable house. He stared at her blankly for a moment, as if wondering why she just did not go out and procure one like she did her dresses and shoes, rather than bothering him with such trifling little details, but before he could fathom the full import of her words, she plunged ahead, "I was just over at the Jones's and they have the cutest little boy! Oh, darling! I want one; I must have one! Wouldn't a little girl be just the thing to liven up this rather dreary old house? Think of the adorable little clothes and the accessories I could buy! The congratulations and adulation that would flow in!"

He was about to protest that babies were theoretically expensive, and from what he had heard, they were quite noisy and dreadfully messy, not to mention rather inconvenient, but then that is what one had staff for, was it not? And as money was no object in that particular household, why not? "Very well darling," said he, "if it makes you happy, nothing could please me more."

But it seems infants are slightly harder to procure than shoes of a particular size and shade, which is hard enough, most especially when you are impatient for the fulfillment thereof. So it was that little Midas Jones was walking and beginning to babble almost recognizable verbiage, which his mother insisted were words, whilst our esteemed lady's frustrations mounted over her inability to produce such an adorable creature of her own, but more importantly she was unable to reap the social excitement and congratulations that would undoubtedly flow unceasingly from such a fount. She consulted every known sorcerer, apothecary, physician, and herbalist she could find who specialized in such matters, but all to no avail.

But just as the baby craze seemed to be fading in that particular neighborhood, though exotic poultry were becoming quite fashionable, our lady found herself the mother of a beautiful little girl, in celebration of which, they threw a fantastic party, inviting everyone who was anyone in the entire Kingdom and beyond. The happy couple stood at the door greeting their guests as carriage after carriage rolled up and disgorged one fabulously clad celebrant after another, all obviously bored silly and there out of duty rather than any fondness for children in general or this couple in particular. The proud parents had just turned to follow the last invited guest into the house, when a rather irritated throat cleared behind them, drawing their attention. "Yes?" said the perplexed lady of the house to the rather curiously dressed individual loitering upon her expensive and stately steps.

"I fear my invitation must have been mislaid or lost by the carrier, for I never received it," said the interesting personage.

"Invitation?!" said the lady, quite aghast that this odd person could even think that she would ever extend an invitation to such a peculiar and shabbily clad being.

"It is the only explanation," said the creature, quite indifferent to the hostess' shock, "for who would dare not invite me?"

"Who or what are you, madam?" said the astounded lady.

"What?" said the disturbing vision, with a certain dangerous edge in her voice that even the flabbergasted lady could not miss, "I am not a what but a who, madam! I am the Fairy of Blackfen."

"Ah!" said the relieved host, coming to his lady's rescue, "that explains it then. For you see, we don't happen to believe in fairies, it is quite unfashionable and therefore unthinkable, and since we do not believe in your existence, well, you can't expect an invitation when you don't exist now, can you? No hard feelings I hope. Ta ta!" He stared at her expectantly for a moment, as if he expected her to immediately tip over dead, and then seemed rather crestfallen when she failed to do anything half so obliging.

The fairy frowned at him, "why are you standing there gaping?"

"I would think you of all people would have read that particular story?" said he in wonder, "when I said, 'we don't believe in fairies,' aren't you supposed to drop dead or something?"

The fairy said with a longsuffering sigh, but could not entirely hide her wry smirk, "I am afraid that particular story is not this particular story, thus the rules are quite different. So sorry to disoblige you, now what about my invitation?"

"I am afraid not," said the lady of the house with a firm shake of her head, "it would never do! Your attire alone is five hundred years out of fashion, not to mention what my neighbors would think if I actually let a fairy in the house! It would be utterly ridiculous and I could never again show my face in fashionable society. Now if you were a leprechaun or some other well-to-do and currently in-vogue pixie-type person, I might make an exception, but it is completely unthinkable in this instance! I bid you good day, madam; I have a party to host!"

The fairy laughed darkly and said in her most sinister voice, which was impressively creepy, "what if I threatened to curse your child else?"

"Oh, would you!" said the lady in sudden delight. At the astonished and confused looks she received not only from the fairy but also from her husband, she added by way of explanation, "little Midas Jones was hexed after calling the new teacher at his Montessori, 'an ugly old hag,' when she pinched him and said he looked good enough to eat. It was only the truth after all, but still she sued the Montessori and won enough money to pay cash for that homely old gingerbread mansion down the street. Who builds with carbs nowadays? Anyway, then she went and cursed him besides. Now everything he touches turns to gold! I had thought about asking if we could babysit now and again, but this would be even better." Her husband still looked rather perplexed, though the fairy now seemed to understand far more about this particular couple than they knew about themselves. The lady rolled her eyes and sighed, "what is it dear? What was unclear about what I just said?"

The man shook his head, "what's a Montessori? Some sort of fancy sandwich shop?"

With another sigh, his wife expounded, "it is an elite and expensive school for very young children, I had one picked out even before our daughter was born; you can't start too early, you know." She eyed the fairy eagerly, "what do you think?"

Said the fairy dryly, "I don't think there's a worse curse I could lay on you people than the existence you already lead."

"What is that supposed to mean?" snapped the lady in vexation, "the Jones's have a child with a curse, how am I to be content without one too?"

The fairy wore a mocking smile, "you continue to prove my point, madam. But I won't be cursing your wretched whelp with anything half so interesting as the golden touch. I suppose I could destine her to prick her finger on a spindle and fall into a wakeless sleep, or even to die; it's trite, but effective." She frowned, "but then there's always the matter of some pesky prince showing up and ruining everything; I can't abide a 'happily ever after.' No, I'll leave things as they are, I'll let you stew in your insipidness and go vainly about your pathetic lives, but I will not forget this and one day, I will have my revenge on the entire neighborhood. It used to be an actually respectable part of the Kingdom, except maybe for that troll under the bridge, but I'd take him over any of your ilk, drat those goats! At least he kept the riffraff out."

The lady looked rather baffled after this expostulation and asked for clarification upon the most important point, at least to her thinking, "what exactly is a spindle?"

The fairy sighed heavily, and replied, "I suppose you've never actually had to do any sort of actual handicrafts? Making your own dresses, spinning, sewing, that sort of thing?"

"Making dresses?" said the flummoxed lady, "I have never heard of anything so ridiculous! Why, I just send a page down to a certain seamstress with precise instructions as to what I want and need, and her lad brings it over in a trice. No fuss, no mess, just magic! Or does she grow them? Sewing indeed! What nonsense!"

The fairy's head was in her hands, though whether trying to hide her amusement or frustration this tale does not tell, sighed she at long last, "never mind madam, it matters not." And then she vanished. The baffled couple exchanged a perplexed look and then went in to their guests with quite the story to tell."

"That is utterly ridiculous!" gasped the journalist, as the fairy paused in her telling of the tale.

"I know," sighed the fairy, thinking she had made her point at last, "such was the state of the world even then, and it has only grown worse since."

"No!" said the offended man, "they could have been my parents! What happened to the King and Queen? The castle? Who wants to hear a fairy tale set in the suburbs?"

"Apparently not you," said the fairy darkly, but softening her tone, she said more graciously, "but then you can't really help your upbringing I suppose and it explains much about your own lackluster tale." She glanced derisively at the cast off manuscript, "I suppose you can't help that! Now do you want to hear the rest of the tale or shall I call in a psychologist so you can work through your traumatic childhood first?"

"By all means, please continue," said the man, who was now white as a ghost, though whether at the thought of displeasing this magically dangerous personage or at the very idea that he might need counseling, she did not know. She smiled in a very pleased fashion, for either would suffice, and then continued:

"After the congratulations and socially enforced awe that attend the advent of a new baby in the family had subsided to a mere trickle, and as the lady's trendy chicken fetish consumed more and more of her time, the child was relegated to the care of a person known only as 'nurse.' And as Nurse was a rather old and perpetually exhausted person, she required a great deal of sleep, which only increased as the child grew, thus the dear lady spent most of her waking hours dozing in a chair in the garden whilst her charge ran amuck amongst the ferns and hedgerows. While her mother truly had picked out a Montessori, a husband, the names of her grandchildren, etc. before the girl was even born, the all-consuming pressure of trends and fashion soon turned her mind to other, more pressing concerns and her daughter's brilliant future was quite soon forgotten therewith.

The disgruntled fairy had not forgotten her promise and watched the family with interest as the child grew, wondering if she could come up with a curse worse than the girl's current reality. However, the girl was not without allies, for this particular fairy had a sister, one with whom she was not on very good terms, for in the elder's usually blunt way of expressing things, she summed up her younger sister as a quote, 'goody two-shoes!' The younger saw what the elder was plotting and felt the need to intervene on behalf of the child, though whether she was protecting the girl from her parents or her vengeful sister, or both, was yet to be seen."

"This is actually becoming a little bit interesting," said the man, whose complexion had returned to a somewhat more natural color, "do you not find it odd to speak of yourself in the third person?"

The fairy glared at him and he was suddenly pallid as milk once more, said she, "if you would please not interrupt, you will soon discover that the story becomes quite interesting indeed. And a good storyteller has no difficulty in speaking in the third, fourth, or even fifth person!"

The man frowned, "the fifth person?"

"Only slightly more difficult to master than the fourth-and-a-half person," said she with dancing eyes, causing his cheeks to redden in fury as he realized she was making fun of him rather than imparting the literary secrets of Faerie. Ignoring his interest in the grammatical rules peculiar to immortals, she continued...

