 
## SOLDIERS OF THE CROWN

_____________________________________

### AIELUND SAGA : Book 2

### STEPHEN L. NOWLAND

### Smashwords edition

Copyright 2012-2019 Stephen Louis Nowland

### 2019 Final Edition

Map Illustration by Cornelia Yoder

http://www.corneliayoder.com

The Author asserts the moral right to be

identified as the author of this work.

Table of Contents

World Map

Local Map

Prelude

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Epilogue

About the Author

Prelude

Through calm coastal waters the bow of the _HMS_ _Redoubtable_ cut as she limped along under light sail. The cold winter sun wasn't yet above the horizon and a thick fog was settling in, shrouding the wounded ship in an eerie pale glow. Faint lights of a city materialized through the mist ahead, ghostly dots of light that added to the unearthly scene as the ship's crew went about their work.

Life in the navy was hard at the best of times, but for at least one of their number, moments like these made it all worthwhile. Even as Ronan Woulfe idly coiled rope in his calloused hands, his green eyes took in the view and felt a stirring in his usually taciturn soul, though he'd never admit it to his shipmates.

Ronan was a wiry man in his twenties, fit and strong from running up and down the length of the ship, and his thick, dark hair was held back by a cloth bandanna. His bare feet were just as calloused as his hands, and his plain tunic and pants bore signs of being stitched back together after bearing the brunt of enemy swords.

Like the rest of the crew, Ronan was weary of long days taking up the slack of crew lost in the war, not unlike the ship itself. He warily looked at the remains of the foremast, splintered and broken after being destroyed in battle only a few days earlier. Scorch marks were visible at regular intervals across the deck, the remains of fiery arrows and ballista bolts from their enemies in the west. Only the mainsail was deployed, for the damage was severe enough that the captain didn't feel she could handle the strain of full sails, and thus the ship had been forced to leave the campaign and limp back to safer waters.

"Don't worry," came the voice of the executive officer, Lieutenant Masterson, a man only a few years older than Ronan who had the connections to ensure a long career as an officer lay before him. "Old _'doughty_ will hold together a little while longer."

"She's tougher than she looks, Mister Masterson," Ronan agreed, turning to regard the young officer with a stoic gaze. "It's the crew I'm concerned about. Double shifts for a whole week straight has taken it's toll."

"The captain is well aware of this," Masterson answered crisply, his sharp features as cold and distant as always. "Wartime doesn't always afford us the luxury of rest, but I will make a case for a few days of shore leave."

"It'd be appreciated sir," Ronan offered with a respectful nod.

"Reef the mainsail and drop anchor," Masterson called to the crew, sending three men aloft to carry out his order as he strode across the deck to observe. Ronan noticed the captain pacing back and forth on the ship's bridge. He wore his wide-brimmed plumed hat and blue longcoat, both of which appeared cleaned and pressed in spite of the challenges they'd endured of late.

"Well at least he's keeping up appearances," a gruff old sailor named Owen remarked to Ronan once Masterson had moved away. "Wouldn't want to break the illusion that shit doesn't stick to officers."

"One of the perks of the job," Ronan answered with a shrug. "Just remember mate, he was on the front line with a cutlass in his hand just like the rest of us."

"Did you just defend a nobleman?" Owen grunted in surprise, though he wasn't as surprised as Ronan himself.

"I guess I did. This job is messing with my head."

"Class traitor," Owen chuckled, giving Ronan a friendly shove for his troubles.

"If you only knew," Ronan muttered under his breath as Owen went back to his duties. Ronan did likewise, but he'd learned to make it look like he was working harder than he actually was, so long as he wasn't under direct observation. He'd joined the navy to get out of trouble back on the streets of the capital Fairloch, only to find himself on the front line of a war. He glanced back up at the bridge to see Masterson speaking quietly with the captain, and immediately after their discussion the captain placed both hands firmly on the rail before him and addressed the crew.

"Men of the _Redoubtable_ ," Captain Sir Denholm Sherrard called from his place on the bridge, his voice loud for a man of modest height and appearance. "I have asked much of you over these last months, and too many of our comrades have paid with their lives in service of the king. Though our duty demands we return to the front as soon as possible, I am not unaware of the burden you bear. We shall remain at anchor for twenty four hours, and during this time Lieutenant Masterson will organize shifts to go ashore for some well earned relaxation."

At this announcement, the crew let out a cheer, and even Ronan had a rare smile on his face. Sherrard raised a hand for silence before he continued.

"Those who remain aboard _Redoubtable_ will conduct repairs and make her shine once more. We are in a friendly port and I will not have our reputation as the most orderly ship in the fleet sullied by her current appearance, even if each scar is well-earned." The captain continued to speak, but Ronan was suddenly distracted by a whiff of smoke in the air. Instantly paranoid about the deadly prospect of a shipboard fire, he turned and sniffed the air to try and figure where it was coming from.

There was no obvious sign of fire on board, but the fog surrounding them was clearly laced with smoke from somewhere. The gentle wind that had brought them to Culdeny's shore had dropped off to almost nothing, but that which remained had changed direction, wafting out from the city over the rippling sea. Ronan might have confused it for wood fires being stoked in the early morning, but for the faint sounds of shouted commands his keen hearing picked up.

The captain, along with the entire crew had gone deathly quiet, having caught the same signs of trouble on the wind, signs the battle-weary men of the _Redoubtable_ were all too familiar.

"General Quarters," Captain Sherrard ordered, breaking the stillness of the moment. Men rushed to get the ship ready to fight while the ship's marines, resplendent in their white and red uniforms, took up positions along the sides of the deck, their longbows at the ready. From the town came a distinctive _crash_ as something large fell into town, lighting up the thick fog.

"Was that a bloody siege engine?" Owen asked as he and Ronan hurried toward the stern.

"Sounded like it to me," Ronan muttered as they untied a huge ballista from the rail, freeing it up to pivot and turn in any direction required.

Ronan expected a marine to man the ballista as was normally the case, but his sharp hearing caught the conversation between the captain and his executive officer.

"Take a detachment of marines ashore and render assistance to whomever is in command," Sir Denholm ordered. Masterson saluted crisply but hesitated before leaving.

"Could the Tulsonites have moved this far east without our noticing?" he asked.

"It is entirely possible, but we cannot wait to find out," came the answer. "Go, and quickly."

"Yes sir," Masterson replied before turning and spotting Ronan standing only a few yards away. "Woulfe, prepare the starboard longboat immediately," he instructed as he rushed to the main deck, calling out orders to the ship's marines who snapped to attention.

Ronan carried out the order and with Owen's help, pulled on ropes and pulleys to swing the boat over the rail and gradually lower it into the water below. By now, the noise from the shore had amplified, with the clash of weapons and armor accompanied by the screams of the wounded, joining together in a symphony of horrors that sent a shiver down Ronan's spine.

With the longboat prepared, Masterson and a dozen marines clambered down rope ladders and departed from the ship, rowing hard for the shore to provide whatever help they could.

"Stay at your stations," the captain instructed the remaining crew before looking directly at Ronan. "Woulfe, man the stern ballista."

"Sir," Ronan answered, touching his forehead in salute and doing an outstanding job of hiding his surprise. He'd done his absolute best to keep a low profile during his time aboard ship, and to suddenly be picked for the important position made Ronan realize that the captain might have been keeping a closer eye on him than expected.

Tense minutes passed with the not-too-distant sounds of battle echoing through the fog, a constant reminder of the struggle for the town taking place beyond the ship's ability to help. The sun was just cresting the horizon now, but in the cold conditions it would be some time before it burned away the fog, leaving them guessing as to the nature and indeed, the course of the battle.

Ronan glanced at Captain Sherrard who was pacing back and forth once again, no doubt feeling as powerless as any on board the ship. And then, amidst the sounds of chaos from the shore there was a noise like no other.

Ronan had never heard a dragon before, but he had no doubt that's what he was hearing now. He tightly gripped the balista's trigger handle and looked to the captain, who had turned a paler shade after hearing that awful roar.

"No, it cannot be," Sherrard muttered to himself as he rushed to the rail and attempted in vain to peer through the fog. A blast of fire pierced the veil, lighting up a good portion of the town with such ferocity it silhouetted the beast in the sky. It soared above Culdeny, blasting fire indiscriminately upon buildings and defenders alike.

"Raise the anchor!" came the captain's shouted order, surprising every sailor on the _Redoubtable._

"Captain, what are you doing?" Ronan asked, breaking protocol in the process.

"I will not sit here helpless while a fire-breathing monster attacks His Majesty's people," Sherrard answered with conviction.

"We're practically becalmed here, sir," Ronan pointed out. "Even if you wanted to beach her, _'doughty's_ not going anywhere in a hurry."

"The tide is going in, Woulfe," Sherrard remarked, pointing to the water. "She's already stern-about, and with a little push from the tides we'll be in range to take a shot at that thing. Stand ready."

Ronan swallowed hard and adjusted his grip on the weapon, even as Owen returned from below with three extra bolts for the weapon. Ronan quickly slotted one into place, trying to stay focused as the distinctive sound of huge wings flapping in the air came closer and closer.

"Hang on mate," Ronan blurted as he looked clearly at the bolt he'd loaded. "This is one of the firespears."

"So?" Owen countered, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

"Well it's a bloody dragon isn't it? The damn thing's full of fire already. What do you think this thing's going to do to it?"

"We used the last of our ironspears a week ago," Owen grunted as he deposited the other bolts onto a rack. "Besides, the tip is still pointy, right?"

"It'll have to do," Ronan sighed in exasperation and shrugged. He began spinning the windlass with both hands, slowing drawing the huge string back into set position and the bolt dropped into place. Now adrift, the _Redoubtable_ was slowly moving towards the shore, with the pier now visible about thirty yards astern. More blasts of fire lit up the place, closer than before as the dragon moved through the skies unchallenged.

Ronan had experienced an eventful life, and his nerves were as steady as the next man, but he couldn't stop his hands from shaking as he pivoted the huge weapon's tip towards the monstrous visage in the fog not far away.

"Steady," Owen instructed, noticing the slight tremor running through Ronan's hands as they waited for the right moment. When the obscured skies lit up again, the dragon was clearly visible right above the town docks. Ronan aimed and accounted for the beast's movement, then pulled the trigger. The weapon _twanged_ with remarkable force, sending the firespear hurtling through the sky where it struck true on the dragon's left flank.

It roared in surprise as the bolt exploded, and the crew let our a cry of success at Ronan's remarkable aim. In spite of this, the dragon was still flying and Ronan feared the had only made it angry.

"Again!" Captain Sherrard bellowed.

"If that was an ironspear we would have killed the damn thing in one hit," Ronan snarled in frustration. Owen didn't answer, instead focusing his efforts on loading the ballista once again. Ronan spun the windlass as fast as he could, his heart pounding away at the thought of what dragonfire would do to his ship, should it turn its wrath in the _Redoubtable's_ direction.

With the weapon ready, Ronan carefully aimed once more, making certain he was allowing for the monster's speed and distance, then pulled the trigger again. The second bolt struck true, blasting its right flank which was quickly followed by a third bolt, coming from the _Redoubtable's_ bow turret. With its size and lumbering speed, the dragon was a surprisingly easy target for the ship's heavy weaponry and after the third strike, combined with a hail of arrows coming from the town walls, the beast finally relented and flew east, away from the punishment the defenders were raining upon it.

Another cheer went up from the crew as Ronan slumped over the ballista, fearing his heart was trying to escape from his chest.

"Rarely have I seen such accurate shooting, sir," the captain congratulated Ronan, even going so far as to pat him on the back.

"I've rarely had such motivation," Ronan answered ruefully, accepting the gratitude of his shipmates in his stride. Owen gave him a solid handshake as the ship's anchor was dropped not far from the pier, and the true extent of the damage to the town came into focus. Culdeny was burning, and there was little the crew of the _Redoubtable_ could do about it.

"There's far more going on here than I thought," Sherrard declared after a moment's consideration, "if a dragon was unleashed upon a major settlement. I'm afraid our involvement in this disaster may only have just begun."

Ronan nodded in agreement as he watched smoke rise in the morning sky, silently thinking that perhaps his previous career on the mean city streets hadn't been so bad after all.

Prologue

The longboat ploughed through calm waters off the coast of Culdeny with a dozen stout sailors at the oars, propelling them towards the dark silhouette of the HMS Redoubtable. A thick fog surrounded the tiny boat and the stench of heavy smoke wafted through the air, a legacy of the fires the townsfolk still fought following the battle recently won.

The undermanned defences at the seaside town had barely held against the might of the Steel Tigers mercenaries who, led by the cunning warrior Robert Black, had been on the brink of victory until a group of loyal Kingdom soldiers arrived. Along with his friends, Aiden Wainwright, self-styled scholar and adventurer, found himself caught up in those events and fought the mercenaries alongside the Kingdom guard, narrowly winning the fight and escaping before the Steel Tiger's secret weapon arrived.

A dragon, flying almost invisibly through the morning fog above had assaulted Culdeny, hurl ing flames upon the besieged town. Fortunately, thanks in no small part to the efforts of Aiden and his companions, the town retained enough defenders to pummel the beast with arrows, while the Redoubtable pounded the dragon with heavy ballista bolts from the sea.

Once it was finally driven away, Aiden agreed to travel to the capital city of Fairloch with Princess Criosa Roebec, who had been freed from the clutches of the Steel Tigers only hours before to pursue the perpetrators of this egregious crime. Criosa made clear that anyone hiring mercenaries to attack a town in their own Kingdom was not going to be tolerated by the Crown.

Aiden was very much looking forward to his first time at sea, though the swaying of the longboat wasn't doing much for him. He sat near the front of the boat, just behind the Redoubtable's executive officer, Lieutenant James Masterson, who wore the blue longcoat and plumed, wide-brim hat of a naval officer in the service of the king.

Princess Criosa Roebec sat just behind Aiden and carried herself with grace and poise, not allowing the unusual situation in which she found herself to diminish her dignity. Though it was conceivable that members of the royal family travelled by sea from time to time, judging by the way she gripped the wooden seat with white-knuckled tension, Aiden suspected this was her first voyage.

Towards the rear of the boat sat his old friend Pacian Savidge, exhausted from his efforts in their recent battle and looking a little paler than usual as the boat rocked back and forth on the sea. His blond hair was lank and dirty, and for once Pace didn't seem to care about his poor state of grooming.

Sayana Arai, the wild, red-haired sorceress, seemed to be in the same predicament as Pacian, having never even seen the sea before let alone travelled upon it. Although she was pale at the best of times, Sayana had the same greenish tinge as Pacian and Aiden suspected they faced a difficult voyage ahead.

He was reminded of the reasons their other companion, the ranger Dante Colt, had for staying behind in Culdeny. Colt didn't like ships or the prospect of travelling at sea, and looking at his increasingly miserable friends on the longboat, Aiden knew Colt would be having a good laugh at their expense if he could see them now.

Finally, Nellise Sannemann leaned against Pacian's back, drained from her efforts of the past week, but also the only one amongst them to have been to sea before. Born and raised in Culdeny, she had also travelled to the capital of Aielund, Fairloch, in the past. With a few days of rest, she would hopefully be feeling like her old self again, though Aiden did wonder about the lingering effects of her recent trauma at the hands of the savages in Akora, far to their south.

He could only imagine the shock Nellise had to endure when, after spending most of her twenty years devoted to peace and healing, she was confronted with the ugly savagery of their warriors up close. Aiden had kept an eye on her ever since, out of concern for her health but also to monitor for any further changes in her demeanour. A priestess of peace who decided to carry a crossbow and wear heavy armour was something of a contradiction, to say the least.

Voices drifting through the mist from ahead caught Aiden's attention, the sharp calls and shouts of men being ordered about on board the Redoubtable. The fog thinned and the full majesty of the ship was there to behold, with many of her crew rushing around on the deck as they prepared to receive a member of the royal family.

"Well, ladies and gentlemen," Lieutenant Masterson declared in a tight voice, "there is your transportation to the capital — His Majesty's Ship, Redoubtable." The vessel loomed over the longboat closing in on the right side of the ship, or "starboard", as Aiden understood it. Why the sea-going members of society had insisted on creating their own terminology for "left" and "right" was beyond him, though he had a feeling it was related to job security.

"It's much bigger than I thought it'd be," Aiden remarked, truly impressed with the immensity of the vessel before them. It wasn't so much its length as her height — the front and rear, or "bow" and "stern" sections, towered over the longboat, and three masts disappeared into the fog above them. Aiden was concerned when he noticed the forward mast was broken in half, with only splintered and cracked wood remaining.

As they pulled closer, more signs of her recent actions in the west became evident on the hull. Scorch marks rippled across the wooden superstructure. Cracked and broken planks could be seen in various places, only a few of which showed signs of repair. Despite all of this damage, the executive officer still spoke of the ship with pride.

"She's one of our new carracks, over two hundred tons, and counts eighty of His Majesty's finest sailors as her crew," Masterson explained for their benefit. "You'll have to excuse her condition, Highness. We've just returned from action against the Tulsone fleet, and I regret to say Redoubtable isn't in the finest shape she's ever been."

"Her appearance is of little concern to me provided she stays afloat, Lieutenant," Criosa offered in blunt assessment.

"I appreciate your candour, Highness," Masterson commented dryly, seeming to take mild offence at her comment. If he had anything further to say on the subject, he kept it to himself as their longboat pulled alongside.

Wooden steps with handholds were bolted to the side of the hull, allowing the crew and passengers of the longboat easy access to the ship. Criosa climbed aboard first, followed by the other two ladies, to whom the lieutenant showed the highest courtesy.

"After you, gentlemen," Masterson said after the way was clear. Aiden allowed Pacian to climb up first and then followed until he emerged onto the main deck of the Redoubtable, where he saw the entire crew lined up before him. The entire complement was made up of men of a wide spread of ages. They wore simple clothing, consisting of loose tunics and pants cinched at the waist with rope. They appeared lean but fit, were all barefoot, and their unshaven faces were tanned from long days working in the sun.

In front of the ship's company stood a man of middle age and proud bearing, wearing the gold bars of a naval captain on the lapels of his blue longcoat. His sharp eyes surveyed all before him from beneath the brim of his hat.

"Captain, may I present Her Highness Princess Criosa Roebec, and her entourage," Masterson announced after he had boarded the ship. "Your Highness, this is Captain Sir Denholm Sherrard, commander of His Majesty's Ship, Redoubtable."

"Your Highness, it is a singular honour to have you aboard my vessel," the captain said, addressing Criosa directly and bowing slightly as he spoke. "I daresay this is an improvident time for you to grace us with your presence, but my crew and I shall do our utmost to provide a smooth and rapid journey to the capital."

"Thank you, Captain," Criosa replied formally, "though I am certain that providence, in fact, brought you to the aid of Culdeny at its darkest hour. All who dwell within her walls owe you a debt of gratitude for your timely intervention."

"One could say that arriving here, just as a monster from our darkest nightmares descended upon the town is anything but 'timely', but your point is well taken," the captain remarked smoothly. "I can see from your dishevelled state that you and your people have suffered through much these last few hours, so it behoves me to end this formal nonsense and permit you to rest. For the duration of this journey, I am willing to surrender my personal cabin to you and the ladies, should you wish it."

"I wouldn't hear of it, Captain," Criosa said, smiling at the offer. "Though you are gracious for offering, you and your crew have been at war for months and I wouldn't dare impose upon you."

"A gentleman could do no less," Sherrard said, inclining his head. "I will however, insist upon assigning my personal steward to your service for the duration. Mister Masterson, please arrange suitable quarters for the princess and the other two ladies, and post a guard outside their door. No member of the crew is to be allowed access without my express permission, and none of the ladies are to leave the confines of their cabin without an escort."

"Aye aye, sir," Masterson replied, touching his hat brim in salute. "Your Highness, if you and the ladies would be so kind as to follow me?"

"Wait, we're going to share a room?" Sayana asked hesitantly, and the expression on Nellise's face indicated she was a tad overwhelmed at the prospect of living with a member of the royal family.

"Indeed," Masterson answered, oblivious to any concerns she might have. Criosa was more perceptive and moved to reassure her immediately.

"Well, we can't have you staying with the men, now can we?" she pointed out with a smile. "Don't worry, we're going to have a lovely time, we can talk and get to know each other, and above all clean ourselves up a bit. We're all in a bit of a state, really. Come along!"

Masterson gave her a nod of understanding and led them away, heading through a nearby door to disappear into the ship. Sayana gave Nellise an uncertain look just before the door closed.

"Mister Wainwright, is it?" the captain asked of Aiden. "I am told that you were largely responsible for the safe conduct of Her Highness through a war zone, is this correct?"

"You make it sound more dangerous than it was," Aiden remarked modestly.

"War is always dangerous, sir, and you would do well to remember that," Sherrard bristled. "Nevertheless, the reports I hear speak of remarkable bravery on the part of you and your companions, and I wanted to thank you personally for your courage. I would speak with you further of these and other matters, after you have taken your rest."

"As you wish," Aiden agreed and with a simple nod of his head, the captain permitted him to continue into the ship.

"Woulfe, these two gentlemen look like they're about to topple onto my deck," the captain said to a sailor nearby. "See them to appropriate accommodation before this occurs, if you please."

"Very good, sir," the sailor named Woulfe answered while touching his forehead with one hand. His long dark hair was held back by a bandana tied around his head and his skin was deeply tanned. He gestured towards the same door the others had ventured through, and the two young men slowly trudged after him.

"All hands, prepare to make sail," Sir Denholm barked to his crew as the door closed, and the stampede of bare feet could be heard echoing through the wooden structure as the men scrambled to comply.

The interior of the ship was cramped, filled with narrow passageways and low-hanging beams. The stomping of feet on the deck above was quite audible, soon mixed with the flutter of sails and the creak of rigging as the ship got underway. The salty sea air outside had been refreshing, but down here the faint stench of people living in close quarters covered it almost completely.

"This will be your berth for the trip," the sailor named Woulfe said without ceremony, stepping aside to allow Aiden to peer into the room. "It used to belong to two midshipmen, but they won't be using it anymore." The room was barely big enough for two men, with a bunk bed on the left wall and a footlocker at the base of the tiny porthole.

"Have they been assigned better accommodation?" Aiden inquired, suspecting he already knew the answer.

"No, they were killed in our last action a week ago, along with seventeen others," Woulfe explained sombrely. "So in a way, they've got the best room of all, if you believe in the afterlife. Of course, one of them was a right bastard, so I suspect he finds himself in a much hotter place. Make yourselves at home, lads."

"Thanks," Aiden replied dryly, following Pacian into the room while the sailor returned to his duties, less than thrilled at the prospect of sleeping in a room recently vacated by dead crew. More to the point, the simple bed was hard and unyielding, just what Aiden didn't need after a bruising and arduous battle.

Pacian didn't seem to care. He clambered onto the top bunk, collapsed upon the mattress with a sigh and was asleep within moments. Aiden dropped his armour to the floor and laid his sore, tired body down to rest, drifting off minutes later.

He tossed and turned for some time, his unfamiliarity with the sounds and movements of the ship conspiring to keep him from rest. Images of the recent battles he'd been involved with flashing through his mind, none of them pleasant.

Faces of men he had killed, barely noticed in the frenzy of the fight now seemed to be etched into stark relief. Aiden felt he had done the right thing when he fought the enemies of the Kingdom, whether it was rogue savages or mercenaries, but looking back, they were also people, and he didn't find killing sat well with him in the quiet of the aftermath.

Chapter One

Aiden woke with the sun's blinding light streaming in through the porthole near his head. He took a deep breath to chase away the fleeting images from an indistinct nightmare he'd been having. This was something he'd had a lot of practice at, as he'd been plagued by a repeating nightmare about the Battle of Fort Highmarch, which had actually happened over a century ago.

The origin of the nightmare had turned out to be magical in origin, a memory shared through a shard of crystal that hung around his neck. The crystal sphere it had once been part of, the one he had broken years ago was, in fact, one of a set of arcane relics which allowed communication between individuals who possessed them. In this case, the other sphere was being held by a dragon named Salinder in the Aether, a strange realm existing beyond that which could be seen or heard.

The crystals linked them together, although since Aiden's was broken, the communication seemed limited to dreams. Thankfully, those shared memories had subsided of late, leaving Aiden to deal with only regular horrible memories.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Pacian groaning from the top bunk, combined with the creaking boards of the ship. The Redoubtable swayed back and forth as she ploughed through the waters of the Culdeny Straits, pushed onward by a strong westerly wind.

It was a new experience for them both, having been raised near the woods of Coldstream and the farmlands of Bracksfordshire. Aiden's head swam, his sense of balance thrown off by the ship's constant movement and Pacian moaned again just as Aiden was about to drop off into a light sleep. Aiden threw off his covers in exasperation and slowly rose to his feet, being careful to keep a steadying hold of the wooden bedpost.

"If you're going to be seasick, can't you at least do it quietly?" he complained to Pacian.

"Leave me alone, I'm dying," his old friend croaked. A particularly large wave crashed into the side of the Redoubtable at that moment, causing the deck to lurch and sending Pacian careening onto the floor. As it turned out, this was a fortuitous turn of events, as it placed him within easy distance of the porthole which he set about making use of in the noisiest way possible.

"I'll leave you to it," Aiden offered in consolation to his suffering friend. Aiden grabbed his clothes and boots and then stepped outside, closing the door to the sounds of Pacian attempting to turn himself inside out.

Aiden dressed himself while thumping into the walls of the narrow corridor half a dozen times. He made his way down the hall in need of fresh air after the foul aromas of his cabin, when he heard the sounds of sobbing coming from a door nearby.

His ears pricked up at the sound of a woman crying and he couldn't help but take a closer look. The royal marine stationed outside the door was wearing a red longcoat with a white tunic and hose underneath, and armed with a cutlass. Although the man had been told not to permit the crew access, he recognised Aiden as one of the princess's entourage and allowed him to pass.

Aiden turned the handle and pushed inwards, peering around the edge to see Criosa holding Nellise in a comforting embrace as the cleric was wracked with tears. Sayana was behind them, her head sticking out of the porthole making the now familiar — and unpleasant — sounds of illness.

"Is everything alright in here?" Aiden asked out of courtesy. Criosa snapped her gaze onto the door and glared at him in a manner which strongly hinted he shouldn't be there. Aiden quickly retreated, closing the door softly behind him.

"I think the ladies are indisposed at this time," Aiden informed the guard sheepishly. "I'll return to check on them later."

"Probably a wise move, sir," the marine advised casually. "Woe betide any man who intrudes on a gathering of women uninvited." Feeling slightly ashamed, Aiden unsteadily climbed the stairs that he thought led to the main deck, only to find himself at the door to the captain's office.

"Mister Wainwright, your timing is impeccable," came the captain's voice from within. The door was open, and the captain's steward was presently departing with empty plates and cutlery.

"Captain Sherrard, I was just heading up to get some air," Aiden called, covering the fact he had become disoriented in the ship. To his addled sense of balance, it felt as though the vessel was pitching up and down in the most violent of conditions. "I didn't realise we had sailed into such choppy weather."

"I don't know to what you are referring, sir," Sherrard replied evenly. "We are blessed with fair winds and calm seas. Please come in for a moment." Aiden nodded, managing to get himself into the captain's office without falling over. "I see you are yet to acquire your sea legs."

"It's my first time at sea, Captain," Aiden muttered, sitting down in a sturdy chair opposite a large desk, behind which Sir Denholm was sitting. The room was quite spacious, especially compared to the other rooms Aiden had seen down below. A few small paintings hung on the walls depicting rolling hills, and fine rugs covered the floor.

Upon the desk were papers, charts, and the curious instruments one would use to navigate at sea. Large windows behind the desk provided ample light and Aiden realised the office was at the rear of the ship, for they looked out across the sea left in their wake.

"You'll get the hang of it, soon enough," Sir Denholm assured him. He had a crisp manner and military bearing about him that alluded to his many years in the navy. Though his features were weathered in testament to his years at sea, his grey eyes were sharp and alert. "I trust you find your accommodation satisfactory?"

"Yes, although my roommate doesn't share my stout constitution," Aiden remarked dryly, fully aware he was only slightly better off than Pacian.

"Having a rough time of it is he?" the captain asked rhetorically. "Most unfortunate."

"How long do you think the journey to Fairloch will take us, captain?" Aiden inquired, changing the subject.

"Under ordinary circumstances, the capital would be a scant two days sail from Culdeny," he explained, "but since the foremast is damaged, we are restricted by the amount of sail we can carry and thus, it may take an extra day to reach our destination. Have you stopped by to ensure the comfort of the ladies?"

"Princess Criosa seems well and is taking care of the others who are in various degrees of distress," Aiden replied candidly. "Considering she had been kidnapped just days ago, I find her resilience quite remarkable."

"She comes from a line of strong-willed men and women, so this comes as no surprise to me," Sir Denholm said. "Can I ask, what manner of difficulties did she face out there?" Aiden explained in some detail about Criosa's kidnapping and how he and his companions chased down the mercenaries and freed her before heading to the aid of Culdeny, at her insistence. The captain's face was red-cheeked and he seemed about to explode by the time Aiden finished the story.

"Damnable scoundrels sir, the lot of them," Sir Denholm blurted, thumping his fist on the table before him. "To think that anyone would have both the audacity and paucity of morals to kidnap our beloved princess like this beggars belief. I congratulate you and your associates on stopping the wretches and saving her life."

"They were mere puppets, captain," Aiden suggested. "I'm more concerned about who was pulling their strings, and why. I have a few questions, if you've the time, sir."

"There aren't enough hours in the day for the workload of the captain of an under-crewed vessel in His Majesty's navy," Sir Denholm replied, gesturing at the pile of papers scattered over his desk, "but I need a break from all of this anyway. Ask away."

"Yes, about your crew," Aiden suggested. "I know you've seen action recently and I was wondering if you could tell me some more about your part in the war."

"Our last engagement was in the western part of Rochfort Bay," Sherrard answered, "where the remnants of the Tulsonite fleet had assembled to interfere with the deployment of reinforcements ashore. Ever since the war was declared, the navies of our two Kingdoms have been skirmishing back and forth, particularly around the disputed islands that lie in the waters off the north coast of Aielund."

"In a moment, you'll have to tell me what all this is about, but please continue," Aiden interjected, his curiosity about these world-changing events overriding the complaints coming from his tired mind and body.

"It pains me to say this, but we lost several ships in minor actions at the start of the war, several months ago," Sir Denholm continued, "greatly hampering our efforts to carry supplies to the army. Despite this, our carracks are larger and more than a match for the smaller ships the Tulsonites use and First Admiral Chesterton devised a plan to exploit their weaknesses."

"We gradually increased our presence north of Rochfort bay, until it was time to deal a major blow. Moving as one fleet, under the aegis of Admiral Collins aboard the Celerity, we sailed in force with the clear intention of crippling their navy once and for all, giving Aielund supremacy over the northern seas for the duration of the war. As predicted, their scouting vessels saw us coming and signalled the rest of their fleet to oppose us. Thirty-one vessels were involved in this action, and we were lucky to survive."

"That explains the damage to the Redoubtable and your loss of crew," Aiden mused absently, engrossed by the captain's account.

"The Redoubtable was in the van, and took the brunt of the first assault, with Tulsonite marines killing nearly a dozen of my crew in the process. A further twenty-three were lost during a boarding action later in the day, but at the end of it all, the enemy fleet was decimated and Aielund stood triumphant. We managed to limp back to Culdeny for a quick resupply with the intention of heading on to Fairloch for extensive repairs, but found ourselves amidst another battle, of which you are intimately acquainted with."

"It would be nice to have some perspective on all this, an understanding of why all of this is happening in the first place," Aiden remarked.

"The reasons for the war are being kept secret, even from those of us doing the fighting," the captain informed him, somewhat regretfully. "It is enough for men sworn to his service that His Majesty commands it, yet I understand the hardships imposed upon the civilian population and the desire for it all to make sense. All I can tell you is that the king was involved in several months of diplomatic overtures to Tulsone prior to the declaration of war."

"So, he did at least try to avert war," Aiden mused. "I have seen, first-hand, the problems this bloody conflict has caused the Kingdom and all I can say is that he better have a good reason for it."

"You are plain-spoken, sir," Sir Denholm remarked dryly. "I appreciate your candour, though I would ask that you keep such thoughts to yourself while aboard my ship. My crew do not need to hear more about trouble at home while they have enough to deal with in the present moment."

"Of course, I'll be discreet," Aiden assured him.

"You are young to have been thrust into the position of fighting a major battle," the captain observed. "You are a boy of no more than seventeen or eighteen, if my guess is correct, yet from what I hear, you led a squad of the Kingdom Guard and even the princess herself against the mercenaries that assaulted Culdeny."

"I helped devise the plan, though it was Sergeant Evans who did most of the commanding," Aiden explained deprecatingly. "It really was a team effort."

"I find your humility most becoming, sir," Sir Denholm remarked with a slight smile. "Now then, I have to complete this battle report for the admiralty before our return to friendly shores, so why don't you avail yourself of some fresh sea air. I would however, like to extend an invitation to you, your companions and the princess, to dine with me this evening here in my cabin."

"Thank you, sir, I'll pass that along," Aiden answered, genuinely pleased at the invitation.

"Splendid," Sir Denholm murmured. "If you need anything, Lieutenant Masterson is on the bridge. Now if you'll excuse me, I must continue my work."

"Thank you, Captain," Aiden replied, standing up and exchanging a short, firm handshake. Aiden left the cabin and softly closed the door behind him.

Upon exiting the confines of the ship's interior, he was immediately welcomed by the fresh breeze, laden with the unique, salty tang of the sea. Despite his unsteadiness, Aiden realised the captain had been correct — the conditions were nearly perfect, and they couldn't have asked for a better start to the short voyage.

The crew were kept busy managing the intimidating array of ropes and pulleys that held the sails in check, and didn't pay much heed to the unsteady young man as he made his way out onto the deck. They all appeared a little haggard after long weeks of action at sea, but went about their work without complaint. Aiden took a firm hold of the nearest mast, trying not to fall over as the ship swayed gently beneath his feet. For a solid five minutes he stood there, afraid of stumbling on the deck and appearing foolish before these seasoned sailors.

The helm was under the watchful eye of Lieutenant Masterson. Aiden's attention, however, was caught by the two ballistae positioned on either side of the deck — massive, oversized crossbows that fired spear-like projectiles with tremendous force.

"Afternoon, Mister Wainwright," a sailor remarked to him, appearing next to the young man as if by magic. Aiden recognised him as Woulfe, the man who had shown Pacian and himself to their cabin. Sharp green eyes scrutinized the deck around him, and a bandana of cloth helped keep his wild dark hair in check. Like all the other sailors on board, he was wearing baggy trousers and a heavy brown tunic to ward off the chill.

"Shouldn't you be saying 'ahoy thar matey', or some such?" Aiden replied with a half-smile on his face.

"You'd think so, wouldn't you," Woulfe replied laconically. "That's all a bunch of heresay, actually. People talk the way they were raised, you know? Pleased to meet you. The name's Ronan Woulfe." Aiden shook his hand, being careful to steady himself with his other arm on the mast. "I noticed you admiring our ballista," Ronan continued. "If you gotta take on a dragon, I can't think of a better weapon."

"More than that, it was accurate shooting, too," Aiden complimented.

"Thanks."

"You were the shooter?" Aiden asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Of the aft starboard station, yeah," Ronan clarified. "The thing about dragons, is they're big. Pretty hard to miss, really — all you gotta do is aim where they're gonna be."

"You seem to be taking the fight against a beast of legend in your stride," Aiden remarked with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh, I had to change my pants afterwards, I assure you," Ronan explained. "But yeah, I find it's best to take life as it comes, whether it's being propositioned by a fine young lass while docked in port, or being attacked by a giant fire-breathing monster."

"I see," Aiden answered after a moment to take this in. "It's still an impressive feat."

"Woulfe, you're not being paid to stand around chatting, get back to work this instant," Lieutenant Masterson barked.

"Aye aye sir," Ronan answered, still in the same laconic tone. The sailor leapt up the mast Aiden was leaning against and scurried up the rigging as the executive officer approached.

"Good afternoon, Mister Wainwright," he greeted him. "Did you manage to get some rest?"

"Not as much as I would have liked," Aiden muttered.

"Well, you'll soon settle in, though I daresay you won't be aboard long enough to become accustomed to the motion of the ship."

"I imagine I'll be getting accustomed to it all right before I leave," Aiden replied, looking out over the expanse of blue water before him that seemed to ease his queasiness.

"A pity," Masterson replied, smiling for the first time since Aiden had met him. "There's nothing quite as soul-stirring as a sunrise on a clear morning at sea. The way the light filters through the fog in shafts of heavenly rays... it's really quite breathtaking."

"Sail ahoy!" a man yelled from the crow's nest, high above the main deck on the tallest mast. Masterson, previously standing about in a casual manner, suddenly became alert.

"Where away?" he called back to the lookout.

"Port quarter aft, sir!" came the shouted response. Aiden looked in a random direction, unsure where he was referring to, while Masterson pulled out a small metal tube from his longcoat and strode over to the rail.

"Is there a problem?" Aiden asked the officer.

"Difficult to make out details at this distance, even with this useful contraption," Masterson replied absently, "but she's roughly the size of a caravel, so she could be a merchantman out of Brigham, in the Rael Islands. I doubt it would be an enemy vessel this far from Tulsonite waters, especially considering their recent defeat."

"What about pirates?" Aiden asked, drawing a look of condescension from the officer.

"A pirate vessel is hardly going to be giving chase to a ship of His Majesty's navy, Mister Wainwright," he admonished.

"You're certain of that?"

"Given the nature of our precious cargo, I'm not going to take any chances," Masterson said after a moment's thought. "I doubt we can outrun them in our current state, but should an opportunity arise in the next twelve hours to lose them in fog, I shall do so, just to be safe."

"That sounds dangerous, but you seem to know what you're doing, Lieutenant."

"I would be a poor officer indeed if I did not," Masterson asserted. "You're looking a little green around the edges there, Mister Wainwright. Why don't you head back to your cabin and get some rest?"

"I think I might, at that," Aiden agreed, having had his fill of sea air and questionable company for the time being. He slowly made his way to the door leading into the ship, noticing that a few sailors were grinning at his unsteady progress as he headed back to his cabin.

* * *

To his surprise, Aiden managed to get a few more hours sleep before he was awoken by a knock on the door from the steward. It took him a few minutes to struggle back into his clothes, during which time he deduced that Pacian was unlikely to be attending the captain's table.

"I'm going to throw up all over them," he croaked, his bleary green eyes begging for mercy.

"I'm not asking you to go," Aiden assured his friend. "But I could bring you back some food, if you've the stomach for it later on. I'm sure they'll have salted pork and biscuits, if nothing—"

He was interrupted by Pacian's sudden dash to the window, which was surprising to Aiden, for he was almost certain his friend would have nothing left to purge.

"Just rest up, you'll feel better tomorrow," Aiden advised with a slight grin before heading to the doorway.

"Hey, go easy," Pacian protested. "Would it kill you to have a little sympathy?"

"Consider this penance on your part," Aiden advised. "You know what I'm talking about." Pacian groaned, but said nothing further, which from Aiden's point of view counted as acceptance of his poor choices lately.

Aiden closed the door behind him and saw Princess Criosa had emerged from her cabin a little further along the hall. Her silky shoulder-length blond hair seemed to glow in the dim light of the lantern hanging nearby. But that's where the veneer of royalty ended, for it was unlikely any princess in history had worn the white, form-fitting tunic and pants of a naval officer, with a blue longcoat over the top.

"Good evening, Your Highness," Aiden said to her, quite formally.

"Hello Aiden, I trust you are weathering this experience better than our roommates?" she responded. Despite her relaxed appearance, she was smoothing down her longcoat in a very self-conscious manner.

"Thankfully yes, though I'm still wobbling about," Aiden explained ruefully. Criosa walked up to Aiden and scrutinized his appearance with a sharp eye. "This is hardly suitable for a formal dinner," she muttered, poking at his clothing in an attempt to neaten him up a little. "It will have to do, though I rather imagine you'd look quite dashing in an officer's uniform."

"As do you," he complimented, noticing her squirm at the attention.

"If father saw me dressed like this, he'd be fit to be tied," she exclaimed. "Women of breeding don't wear men's clothing, let alone a military uniform and never on formal occasions. But, it's an improvement over what I had on before I suppose." The marine stationed just outside her door had the good grace to keep his eyes staring straight at the wall, though he did seem to blush a little.

Down the hallway, Aiden saw Nellise emerge from the room, dressed in a fresh white robe taken from the Church back at Culdeny.

"Good evening, Nellise," Aiden greeted her, speaking gently without intending to. Her golden eyes seemed lacklustre, and her pale hair was somewhat unkempt. "How are you feeling?"

"Well enough," she quietly replied as they approached. "I haven't been to sea for a few years, but I'm no stranger to ships. Poor Sayana isn't fairing so well however, and she won't be joining us for dinner."

"Pacian is also indisposed," Aiden added, "but at least he's resting properly now."

"I stopped by earlier while you were sleeping and gave him a tincture to settle him down a bit," Nellise explained. "I gave some to Sy as well, so they'll both have a good night's sleep and hopefully be on their feet by this time tomorrow."

"So, it'll be the three of us then," Criosa affirmed, examining Aiden and Nellise closely for a moment. "Were we heading to a formal dinner in Fairloch, I wouldn't even allow either of you through the front door. But, times being what they are, we shall have to make do. Perhaps you could wash off some of the dirt, Aiden?"

"Sorry, I didn't even think of it," he replied ashamedly.

"No, this simply won't do," she muttered. Before he could object, Aiden found himself being dragged inside her quarters where he found himself bestowed the unique honour of being washed by a member of the royal family. She dabbed and scrubbed the dirt stains from his skin and clothing until he met some standard of cleanliness only Criosa was aware of.

"What I wouldn't give for a proper bath," Nellise remarked, watching the spectacle with wry amusement as she brushed her hair in long strokes. Sayana, lying upon a bed, barely stirred at all during this event, for which he was grateful.

"I have never met a man so resistant to the idea of being well presented," Criosa remarked as she finished, straightening up his tunic.

"I'm a simple country boy, Your Highness," Aiden explained.

"Nothing about you is simple, sir, so do not prevaricate with me," Criosa warned crisply. "Now then, we've delayed Sir Denholm long enough."

Leaving Sayana to rest, the three of them left the cabin and soon arrived at the captain's chambers. Sir Denholm appeared resplendent in his fine attire and Aiden was suddenly glad that Criosa had taken the time to clean him up. After exchanging pleasantries, they sat as the steward brought in a platter of sizzling sausages, a bowl of mashed potatoes, and some freshly baked bread lathered in butter.

"You set a fine table, captain," Nellise remarked as the steward served up the individual portions.

"It is a simple meal," Sir Denholm replied deprecatingly, "hardly fit for royalty, but it represents the best parts of what we managed to bring on board before the attack on Culdeny. Travis, would you fetch the bottle from my cabinet and four glasses, if you please?"

"Certainly, sir," the steward said with a surprised expression as he turned to the cabinet and retrieved the requested item.

"I had planned to uncork this at the end of the war, but I think this a far more auspicious occasion," Sir Denholm explained, gesturing to the steward to pour the wine. "I take it from the two empty seats your companions are indisposed?"

"Sayana and Pacian are still quite seasick, Sir Denholm," Nellise explained, "and so, as a healer, I took it upon myself to offer what relief I could. Both of them will sleep very well tonight."

"A rest well earned, no doubt," Sir Denholm remarked, lifting his glass. "A toast, to living another day and to friends and comrades lost." Aiden and the ladies lifted their glasses and then took a sip of the wine. It had a smooth, smoky flavour to it, far better than the simple ales he had drunk in times past. They ate in silence for a few minutes, save for the clinking of cutlery on the plates before the captain spoke again.

"So, tell me, Miss..." he said to Nellise, prompting her to tell him her last name.

"Sannemann," she replied, after swallowing her mouthful of food.

"Miss Sannemann, is it?" Sir Denholm continued, sipping his wine. "A curious name I'm not familiar with. Does your family originate from Aielund?"

"No, they came from the south of Feydwiir, from the Grand Duchy of Kurhain," Nellise explained. "My mother met a priest of Kylaris when she was younger, and was very taken with the religion. I think that, more than anything, prompted her to make the journey to Aielund to learn more about the faith."

"A woman of the cloth," Sir Denholm mused. "A faith you share, judging by your choice to join the Church. Mister Wainwright was kind enough to explain the battle at Culdeny in detail, and I am curious as to how you ended up in the middle of a war, wielding a crossbow and clad in steel? Hardly fitting attire for a member of the clergy."

"Many people were caught up in the middle of the conflict," Nellise responded delicately. "I hadn't intended to take up arms when first I set out with Aiden and the others to help the Kingdom, but as the situation deteriorated, I felt the need for greater protection."

"And to strike down your enemies from afar, no doubt," Sir Denholm added. "I do wonder what your superiors in the church would make of your choice to fight alongside soldiers in battle. As I recall, the Resolute Heralds do not consider such actions appropriate to their chapter." Aiden stopped eating and the table went absolutely silent, and all eyes turned to Nellise as she carefully placed her cutlery onto the table

"I felt it was my duty to assist, in whatever manner I could," she explained in a voice that grew in outrage as she spoke. "I did not make this decision lightly, Captain. I saw friends and companions die before my very eyes, and I tell you honestly, sir, I only regret not having learned to fight sooner and with greater skill, for I might have prevented all of that from occurring had I been stronger. My naivety in the true workings of the world resulted in death and suffering, and I will never again allow that to happen."

Nellise left the table and stormed over to the door with clear intention to leave, but Sir Denholm stood and addressed her.

"Miss, forgive my impertinence, I beg you," he asked of her. "I did not fathom the full scope of your ordeal, nor should I have so hastily judged your actions. My concern was only for your future in the Church, for they will surely ask these things of you, with far less forgiveness for any perceived transgressions of the rules than I. Please stay, and forgive an old fool his short-sightedness."

Nellise hesitated near the door, her eyes red-rimmed on the verge of tears, but she nodded and returned to her seat.

"Aplogy accepted," she said, her voice only slightly more than a whisper.

"We're all a bit fraught from recent events," Criosa diplomatically offered to all present, "so let's try to be mindful of one another, yes?"

"Agreed," Aiden added, "though I want to say that Nellise always acted in good faith, to the country and its people — myself and the princess most definitely included — even if she had to bend the rules of her order in the process. I'm sure they'll see her reasons were sound."

"I certainly hope so," Sir Denholm murmured. They settled down and continued eating, the silence only slightly unbearable.

"So, Captain," Aiden began, attempting to fill the void. "You mentioned Aielund won that last sea battle with Tulsone. Does this mean our side has made major strides towards victory?"

"Quite so," the captain replied, seeming quite relieved for the change of topic. "With the sea lanes under our control, we can ferry supplies and reinforcements to the war zone without fear of harassment from Tulsonite forces." He turned to address Criosa as he spoke. "This bodes well for the campaign, Your Highness, and for your father's continued survival."

"I am both pleased and relieved to hear that, Sir Denholm," she breathed. "Have you further news regarding his progress?"

"I heard only of a major engagement near the capital city, Lanfall," he responded, "though I was informed that a victory there was inevitable. Forgive me, Highness, I am not the most informed person at this time and it grates on my sensibilities. I know only that the situation is fluid, and we have given His Majesty a fighting chance to achieve his aims, whatever they are." Aiden pondered this statement for a moment, before the captain, who appeared uncomfortable revealing his lack of knowledge, continued. "You disapprove of this war, Mister Wainwright?"

"I don't even know what it's about, so I can't really judge, can I?" Aiden answered, a little harsher than he had intended.

"Come now," Sir Denholm chided him, "though you are uneducated in matters of strategy or politics, you seem to be an intelligent young man who has survived a major battle. Were you not able to deduce, sir, the reasons for that conflict?"

"It had something to do with seizing Criosa and taking control of the port," Aiden said, "though I would have thought they could accomplish this task with far less bloodshed and sneak her through instead."

"And yet they did not," Sir Denholm stated. "They assaulted the town with an entire company of mercenaries and a dragon no less. What then, does this tell you?" Aiden stopped chewing his food for a long moment as he pondered this.

"The effort to gather the resources alone would have been an impressive undertaking," Nellise remarked, speaking for the first time in a while. "How would one even acquire the services of a dragon without being eaten first?"

"How indeed?" Sir Denholm asked with a raised eyebrow at Aiden, who was parsing all of the information he had on the subject.

The total destruction of the town made no sense to Aiden, for there was nothing to be gained, so it was likely that Ronald Bartlett, proprietor of the North Shore Trading Company, as well as the other men behind the conspiracy were looking to financially benefit from the sacking of Culdeny.

"Let's assume they didn't mean to destroy the entire town," Aiden postulated. "After the attack, the princess would be shipped off and large sections of Culdeny would have to be rebuilt. Bartlett's company controls the shipping, and with the dragon holding the mountain pass, everything except lumber would have to be brought in on ships. They would stand to make a fortune."

"But Ronald was a wanted man," Nellise pointed out. "I'm not sure he'd gain much benefit from inside prison, once he was caught."

"He's from a wealthy family, with connections throughout Fairloch," Criosa explained. "Although he hadn't planned on being discovered as one of the perpetrators, I'm sure others would still gain from this travesty."

"Very good, Your Highness, and you are quite correct as well, Mister Wainwright," Sir Denholm complimented. "Now, if you would be so good as to apply that same clarity of thought to His Majesty's campaign, I'm sure you will see things a little more clearly."

"The diplomatic overtures toward Tulsone indicate they were trying to negotiate for something," Aiden stated cautiously, "but these talks obviously failed, prompting His Majesty to attempt to take something from them by force."

"We've always been at odds with the Tulsonites," Criosa remarked, "so unless the deal was favourable to them, they were always going to refuse any sort of diplomatic effort."

"They are an intractable bunch," Sir Denholm added brusquely. "But what does that tell you, Mister Wainwright?"

"They have something the king needs," he surmised. "And they don't want to give it to him. Given these few facts, it's clear to me the action isn't motivated by profit, and since most of the fighting has taken place deep inside their borders, I can assume this fight isn't over the contested lands to the west of the Calespur Ranges either."

"Quite so," Sir Denholm agreed, finishing off his plate. "So, it is neither profit nor land that His Majesty is fighting over. What do you make of that?"

"I don't know," Aiden shrugged after pausing for a long moment to think. "I can't think of any other reason, given the available facts."

"Well, it's a start," the captain mused, sipping his wine and giving Aiden an appraising look. "I have met the king on several occasions, and by my measure he is not one to start a war over trivialities. He is a practical man, perhaps even a driven man, but he is not a crazy man, sir, and so it falls to us, his subjects, to trust that he is in full command of his faculties and support his effort however we may."

"You are well spoken, sir," Criosa said, beaming at the captain. "I feel better knowing that officers such as yourself stand with him in this time of need."

"You might think differently were you to meet some of the other people with whom I have served, Highness, but your compliment is well received," he responded ruefully. "And now I must, regretfully, call an end to this delightful evening, as my duty compels me to see to the proper functioning of my ship and crew."

"Thank you for the lovely meal," Criosa replied. Aiden had just finished his plate, as had Nellise, so they stood with the intention to leave before being stopped by Sir Denholm.

"I would say one last thing to you, Mister Wainwright, and it applies to you also, Miss Sannemann. The people responsible for the kidnapping attempt and the attack on Culdeny clearly have access to vast sums of money and connections within the nobility. You have comported yourselves well on the battlefield, but if you seek to uncover this conspiracy, you will not be facing armed soldiers, standing against you with swords in hand."

"You will be walking the streets of the largest bastion of civilisation in Feydwiir, where your naivety will be your greatest weakness. Those you seek will wear pleasant faces and speak honeyed words, but will move against you behind the scenes. Of those you meet in Fairloch, there is no telling who will be working for the King, and who will be attempting to stall your investigation. Choose your friends wisely, sir, or you might awaken one morning to find a dagger in your back."

"Thank you for your warning, Captain," Aiden replied grimly, wondering what he'd gotten himself into.

"Well, enough of such things for now," Sir Denholm said, standing up. "Get some rest and I'll do my utmost to see you to Fairloch as quickly as possible."

"Goodnight, Captain," Criosa said, leading Nellise and Aiden out into the hallway.

Chapter Two

It was a very different sound that jolted Aiden awake this time, and for a moment, he wasn't sure if it had been real or part of a dream. Faint grey light filtered in through the porthole, hinting it was sometime after dawn and he couldn't shake the feeling he'd heard a muffled scream from nearby. He lay perfectly still for a long moment, listening for any unusual noises, but heard only soft snoring from Pacian, the creak of the rigging, and the lapping of water against the hull.

A feeling of dread welled up within, for something seemed wrong. Tossing aside his blankets, Aiden rose to his feet and pulled on his trousers. As he strapped on his boots, he detected a faint scuffling sound from out in the hallway. Moving to the door as quietly as possible, he pressed one ear against it, hoping to confirm what he had heard, and was alarmed to hear the sounds of a struggle outside.

Wishing he hadn't left his sword on the highway outside of Culdeny, he carefully opened the door, unsure what to expect. The lantern hanging just outside of the ladies' cabin had been covered, and the marine was slumped against the wall, unmoving. A large, shadowy figure wearing baggy clothing could be seen right next to the man, but more importantly, in his right hand was a cutlass, drawn and ready to strike as the man leaned back and kicked in the door to the ladies' cabin.

A bright light shone from within, causing the big man to flinch at the sudden brightness. Aiden could see that he was definitely a sailor, though he couldn't recall seeing him on deck the previous day. Aiden gritted his teeth and prepared to leap to the defence of the women, when a shining battle-axe suddenly lodged into the boarder's chest, throwing him back against the wall. He slumped down to sit opposite the marine, bleeding to death.

Sayana appeared in the doorway, reaching down to pull the axe out of the dead sailor's chest. At that moment, the ringing of a bell began echoing through the ship and a cry of alarm went up.

"Boarders!" shouted one of the ship's crew from nearby, and all hell broke loose aboard the Redoubtable as men started yelling commands and scrambling to respond to the alarm.

"Are the crew attacking us?" Sayana asked, looking bewildered at the sound of the bell.

"We're being boarded," Aiden responded as the sounds of the ship's crew could be heard thundering on the boards above them. Nellise crouched and checked the marine for signs of life, but shook her head at Aiden's inquiring gaze.

"There is a ship alongside ours!" Criosa called from within their cabin. Peering around the doorway, Aiden could see her pointing out through the porthole at the hull of a ship pressed against the starboard side of Redoubtable. Several sailors brushed past Aiden in the hallway, leaping over the two bodies lying on the floor and heading for the stairs. Criosa noticed this and reached for her rapier.

"Don't even think about getting involved," Aiden ordered, forgetting for the moment that he was addressing a princess. "Stay here and barricade the door, all of you."

"I'd be more use in the fight," Sayana complained.

"As would I," Nellise added.

"You can't leave Criosa here to fend for herself," Aiden reminded them. Their answer was drowned out by the sound of dozens of men roaring their battle cries, and the clash of steel upon steel as the Redoubtable was boarded en masse.

"Perhaps I'd better not become embroiled in this fight after all," Criosa said, changing her mind. As Aiden reached down to pick up the fallen marine's cutlass, he noticed her hands were shaking.

"I'm coming with you, Aiden," Nellise declared, hefting her repeating crossbow. "I won't stand by while others risk their lives."

"Okay, I'll stay down here in case they get through," Sayana relented, sounding both annoyed and relieved at the same time. Aiden nodded and gestured for Nellise to follow along. They ran along the corridor and up the stairs, almost bumping into other sailors rushing outside to engage the enemy in close-quarters fighting. When they emerged onto the main deck, a scene of chaos lay before them.

A heavy mist surrounded the ship and the sails hung limply from the masts, for not a hint of wind could be felt. The deck before them was crowded with the crew of the Redoubtable, bearing cutlasses and facing off against many sailors boarding from another vessel alongside.

The other ship was smaller and bore the flag of the skull and crossbones raised above its mainsail. Captain Sherrard emerged on the upper deck and took stock of the situation.

"Mister Masterson, clear my deck of these vagabonds!" he roared. "Marines, climb aloft and snipe the enemy! Everyone else, into the fray and may God help us!"

The crew organised a defensive line, and the clash of steel on steel echoed through the misty air. Arrows flew in both directions as the royal marines picked off the enemy one by one.

"I need a higher position to support them," Nellise cried, taking the stairs two at a time, while Aiden spoke the brief incantation that summoned his shield of force, a nearly invisible circle that hovered just in front of his left hand. Lamenting that in his haste, he had forgotten to don armour or a tunic, the hairs on the back of his neck suddenly stood on end as the air around him felt charged.

A bolt of lightning crackled across the deck, blasting a good portion of the crew and stunning a few of them for several seconds, resulting in their deaths mere moments later as the enemy cut them down. Aiden looked about frantically for the source of the lightning and saw a woman with long brown hair wearing a plain grey robe on the enemy ship watching the proceedings with keen interest.

"Another bloody wizard?" Aiden uttered in disbelief, setting aside the thought of what such a person was doing sailing with pirates. "Nel! Shoot that one!" he called to the cleric. She spotted the target and levelled her repeating crossbow, loosing a bolt which struck the mast just next to her.

"Blast!" Nellise muttered. "The ship's movement is making this hard." She was then forced to duck behind the rail as pirate archers sent arrows in her direction.

"Let me try," Ronan offered, crouching next to Nellise with a short bow. He shot an arrow which almost struck the wizard in the chest, only to be deflected by a layer of spectral armour protecting her body.

"That's cheating," Ronan muttered, loosing another arrow at the wizard for good measure before ducking behind cover once more. Sayana, wielding her ancient dwarf-crafted vythiric axe, suddenly emerged from the ship's interior, taking in the scene before her.

"What are you doing here?" Aiden asked, both confused and relieved to see her.

"Pacian told me he'd take my place," she explained, leaning closer to be heard over the din of the battle. "He said I could just set fire to the enemy ship. Shall I?"

She was interrupted by another blast of lightning. This time it was aimed at the main mast and sent splinters of shattered wood across the deck. The mast groaned ominously under its own weight.

"Start with her," Aiden shouted, pointing at the wizard who was systematically destroying the ship. Sayana nodded and then moved to the rail, raising her hands and summoning magical flames. They shot towards the enemy vessel in a long stream of fire, surrounding the wizard and setting the deck alight.

"Are you mad?" thundered Captain Sherrard from the deck above. "We are befouled with that ship! By setting fire to it, we might burn as well!" The wizard seemed to be unscathed, despite the fires surrounding her. He and Sayana suddenly were forced to defend themselves against pirates who had broken through the line.

Aiden took the first swing of the pirate's cutlass on his shield and swung back with his own. The other pirate went for Sayana, expecting a quick and easy kill, but met her own magical force shield. Her response was far deadlier than Aiden's, for her axe was unnaturally sharp, and with one stroke she cleaved the pirate's arm clean off.

A crossbow bolt slammed into the side of the pirate Aiden fought, just missing his own arm as he completed a stroke. He followed through regardless, taking advantage of the opportunity to strike twice at the pirate who was staring at the bolt in his side, dropping him to the deck.

A small whirlwind of splinters began to rise from the deck nearby, growing stronger with each passing moment until it was twice the size of a man. The whirlwind began to move along the deck, engulfing a hapless marine who was cut to shreds in a matter of moments, before moving in Sayana's direction. Aiden realised it was being controlled by the enemy wizard, and if he tried to get through the whirlwind he'd suffer the same fate as the poor sailor.

The whirlwind was getting closer, the outer edge of slivers striking Aiden's force shield and slicing into his left arm. Gritting his teeth, he stepped backwards, keeping Sayana behind him as he retreated to the doorway, hoping it wouldn't be able to follow them inside, when the whirling splinters suddenly dropped out of the air and the wind dissipated. Looking around in surprise, Aiden saw Nellise was holding the crystal she used to channel energies from her prayers.

"Nice timing," Aiden called up to her, understanding that she had dismissed the whirlwind. She focused her continuing efforts onto the pirate wizard as the ebb and flow of the battle aboard the Redoubtable pushed towards them, forcing Aiden and Sayana into the melee once more.

With Ronan supporting them with his bow from the upper deck, they held the line against the encroaching pirates, preventing them from breaking through to the lower deck as the crew of the Redoubtable pushed back against the onslaught. Even Captain Sherrard had taken up his cutlass and personally joined the fight, rallying his men in their time of need.

The crew held firm against the assault until the pirates morale broke, and they started to retreat back to their own ship. Royal marines peppered them with arrows as they fled, taking down a few more and giving the defenders respite. Aiden wanted to find out more about what was behind this attack, and realised they needed to take some captives to question.

Holding his shield steady, he took aim at the nearest fleeing pirate and charged forward, slamming the glowing shield into the man's side and knocking him to the deck. Aiden quickly used the hilt of his cutlass to crack the man in the face, rendering him senseless for a little while at least.

On the other ship, the pirate wizard watched the fight as arrows from the Redoubtable bounced off her magical protection. She raised her hands in preparation for another incantation, but was interrupted as a ballista bolt eight feet in length struck her body dead-on, exploding with fire and blasting through the wizard's protective magics. Her broken and burning form was sent over the rail, falling into the ocean below. Aiden turned and saw Nellise standing at one of the ballistae, looking satisfied with her work.

"Mister Masterson, are you injured?" the captain called as he wiped blood from his cheek. There was no immediate reply, and Aiden couldn't remember what had happened to the young officer.

"Sir, he's dead, sir," one of the sailors eventually answered, his weapon and tunic bloodied from the fight. "Took a blade to the neck sir and bled out on the deck." Captain Sherrard hesitated for a moment, and then nodded his understanding of this bleak fact.

"I'm sorry for the loss of your crew, captain," Aiden called to him from his position next to the mainmast, "but we're not done here yet."

"He was the last of my officers," Sir Denholm replied solemnly, wiping the blood from his sword.

"They're attempting to break free, Captain," a marine called from the bow. "What are your orders?"

"The punishment for piracy is death, sir!" he roared, his fury focused on the situation once more. "See to it that His Majesty's will is carried out, if you please."

"There's more to this than some random attack," Aiden pointed out. "Wizards with the skill to get involved in a fight like this wouldn't come cheaply, and they're certainly rare enough that encountering two in three days makes me suspicious."

"I don't doubt your assessment Mister Wainwright but we are spent, and I will not risk further lives attempting to assault that vessel with inferior numbers," Sir Denholm retorted. "The best I can offer you is a promise that ship will soon be ash and cinders. Balistae, fore and aft, use our remaining ordnance to burn that ship to the waterline!" he ordered. "Marines, continue shooting at their crew to give our men cover. Simons, get any men you can spare to push that ship away from us!"

"Aye aye, sir," Simons, a seasoned-looking man with a greying beard yelled back, then grabbed two men from nearby, picked up some long wooden beams and attempted to lever the ships apart. The wood creaked ominously as they put all their strength into the effort with hardly anything to show for it. The rest of the crew were either busy or wounded from the fighting so Aiden and Ronan rushed over to give them a hand.

"Heave lads, heave with all your might!" Simons roared. The five of them pushed with all their strength, with Aiden turning red in the face from exertion. The stricken pirate ship started to move away ever so slowly, but flames were already licking at the upper mast and they just didn't have the manpower to push her away in time.

"I can help," Sayana offered, rushing over to them.

"Beggin' your pardon, ma'am, but this is no job for a lady, even if you can throw a bit of magic around," Simons admonished her, looking at her diminutive frame dubiously. The sorceress moved to the rail and looked down at the hull of the other ship, then raised her hands up as if pushing it away and suddenly went sliding backwards on the deck.

"Too much weight," she muttered to herself as she came to a halt and ran back over to the rail to make another attempt.

"I don't know what you're trying to do, but—" Simons began, but Sayana ignored him.

"Tie a rope around my waist and lower me over the side," she instructed Aiden. He wasn't sure what she was getting at but nevertheless grabbed some rope and tied it in a knot. He dropped the loop over Sayana's body and as soon as she tightened it, she jumped over the side and a surprised Ronan quickly grabbed the rope to prevent her taking an unexpected swim.

"I hope you know what you're doing," Aiden called, leaning over the rail to keep an eye on her. The gap between the two ships was barely enough for her to fit, and any sudden change in their position could crush her between them, but she went about her task, regardless.

Bringing up her hands, she used a sort of telekinetic push against the side of the ship with the hull of the Redoubtable at her back, keeping her in place. The pirate ship slowly began to move, and the wooden hulls creaked and groaned from the force she was exerting upon them.

"Blow me down, she's doing it," Simons breathed. "Let's give her a hand, lads! Heave!" Aiden rushed back to give the sailors a hand, pulling down on the makeshift lever with all of his strength. With glacial slowness, the two ships began to part, with everyone straining to maintain the pressure just a little longer.

"By God, you've done it!" Captain Sherrard cried in triumph moments later, "We've caught a fresh wind, and we're pulling away." Pausing to catch his breath, Aiden could see he was right — the Redoubtable's sails were billowing with resurgent winds.

"Woulfe, retrieve that splendid lady from over the side before you drop her in the drink," Simons ordered as Aiden helped Ronan pull the sorceress back on deck. To their dismay, she was dangling from the rope, limp and unmoving.

"Is she okay?" Ronan asked, as Aiden quickly checked her pulse.

"Yes, she's passed out," he replied, relieved at the steady heartbeat he detected just beneath her skin.

"We owe her a debt," Simons remarked with a shake of his head. "That was a proper effort."

Sailors at the front and rear of the ship had brought up more ballista bolts and loaded the weapons while all this was going on and began shooting at the tattered and flaming remains of the pirate ship as she slowly fell behind in the dissipating fog.

Each hit spread the fires even further and any remaining pirates chose to leap over the side and swim for shore, rather than risk dying to save their stricken vessel. After half a dozen more hits, the ship was ablaze from bow to stern, creating an eerie red glowin the thickening fog.

"Excellent work, all of you," Captain Sherrard offered in thanks as he approached them across the deck, with Nellise close behind. "Take any surviving pirates down to the brig and see to the wounded."

"Yes, Captain," Simons replied, touching his forehead in a salute before he and the other nearby sailors scurried off to follow his orders.

"In all my years of service, I have never seen anything quite so remarkable," Sir Denholm observed, looking at Sayana's prone form. "She will recover, I trust?"

"Yes, she's done this sort of thing before," Nellise explained, kneeling down to examine her closely. "Exhaustion, as I suspected. I shall take her back to our room, and see to her recovery. If I could have some help?"

"Right here," Ronan volunteered before anyone else could speak up.

"Captain, do you have any idea how that ship caught us by surprise?" Aiden asked as Sayana was taken away.

"The wind was gentle and the fog was thick this morning," Sir Denholm explained. "We were practically becalmed, but I felt secure in the fact that any ships nearby would be suffering the same fate. Such arrogant presumption on my part! Somehow that vessel had a strong wind to propel it while we languished in calm seas. Man was not meant to play with the laws of nature, Mister Wainwright, and yet that is precisely how that damnable scow managed to creep up on us."

"It must have been an accomplished wizard to affect the weather like that," Aiden remarked sourly.

"The talents of those arrayed against us are formidable," Sir Denholm uttered with contempt, looking out over the sea. "To think that such people dwell within our own Kingdom, and yet hold His Majesty's law, and indeed the life of his only child in such callous disregard beggars belief.

"Whoever is behind this has deep pockets, Mister Wainwright, very deep pockets indeed," the captain continued brusquely, noticing a few of the captured pirates being taken away. "Wait, I want to have words with this one," Sherrard said to one of the sailors, the man Aiden had knocked down. He was a scrawny man whose age was difficult to determine due to his wounds and generally rough appearance.

"Who was your captain, and why did he attempt to assault a ship of His Majesty's navy?" Sherrard demanded of the pirate, who grinned a bloody smile back at him.

"Not tellin' you anythin'," he growled.

"You're for the gallows, man," the captain warned. "If you cooperate, perhaps you will live to sail another day." The pirate seemed to somberly consider this for a moment, then his devious grin returned.

"We did it for the money, and the chance for a little revenge against the Crown," the pirate said, spitting on the deck. "Was ordered to snatch a special cargo you're carrying, real precious.

"Who was that wizard?" Aiden asked, suspecting the answer but wanting to hear it aloud.

"Our employer," came the response, confirming Aiden's guess. "Don't know where she got all the money from and I really don't care. It's all going to the bottom now of course, a bloody shame it is. But she ain't the one what was in charge, she had someone sendin' her messages with magic or somethin'. Us lowly buggers weren't privy to what was goin' on between her and the cap'n, but I've been truthful with you, I swear it."

"I've heard enough, take him below," Sherrard instructed the sailor, who continued on his way. They waited for him to be out of earshot before Aiden and the captain spoke again.

"I thought as much," Aiden suggested. "That's why we're seeing a wizard with each of these attempts to kidnap Criosa. Someone is using them to communicate quickly over vast distances. I've read of spells that allow for such feats, but we've no idea where to find the source, it could be anywhere within a hundred miles."

"Given their desire to capture Criosa for their own purposes, and their persistant knowledge of her whereabouts, I suspect it might be closer than you think," Sherrard responded quietly so as not to be overheard. "We shall ponder this later, Mister Wainwright. You look like you could use a meal and some rest. I must see to the repairs of old 'doughty, and ensure that we arrive at Fairloch as quickly as possible."

"I want to check in on the others, then if it's all the same to you sir, I'd like to help out for a bit," Aiden offered. Captain Sherrard gave him an appraising look.

"Have you ever worked on a ship?"

"I used to help my father make wagons back in my home town," Aiden replied with a tired grin. "How different could it be?"

"I accept your help, sir. Go about your business and I shall do likewise,' Sir Denholm remarked. Aiden gave him a nod of thanks and went below to check on Criosa, Sayana and the others. They appeared well enough, though Nellise was so busy tending to injuries that Aiden didn't want to disturb her.

Nellise was busy tending to the crew who had been wounded during the short, fierce battle with the pirates, and many of them owed their lives to her ministrations. Just over a dozen men had been slain outright, a difficult loss to maintain on a ship already struggling with a reduced complement. Pacian helped her by carrying supplies and preparing water for cleaning wounds, and since they seemed to have the situation under control, Aiden went back upstairs.

He set to work alongside the crew of the Redoubtable, pitching in where he could and using the experience to take his mind off the perilous fight he'd just survived. These things were becoming a little too frequent for his liking, and his lack of training was starting to become a problem. Still, he could use a hammer well enough.

Over a year had passed since Aiden had last tried to fix anything, and it had been a bittersweet experience due to an unforeseen hammer-related accident. It had been a last-ditch attempt to win favour from his father, who disapproved of his son burying his head in books for hours at a time. Ever since Aiden's two older brothers, Brogan and Kieran had perished guarding a caravan, his father had taken on this sort of thing alone, in spite of repeated attempts to enlist Aiden, who had proven less than talented with his hands.

There was a subdued cheer from the beleaguered crew as the final repairs were completed a short time later, and Aiden was treated to multiple pats on the back as he handed his tools back to the quartermaster. He was quietly pleased with his handiwork, even if he had missed breakfast. Aiden excused himself from the main deck and went inside to put on a shirt and search for some food, leaving Sir Denholm with the difficult task of captaining the crippled vessel to the safety of port.
Chapter Three

The wafting aroma of beef stew drew Aiden down towards his cabin, but he stopped short when he realised the smell was coming from the ladies' room. There was no longer a marine on guard as he approached, the poor fellow having been one of the first to perish in the battle with the pirates.

He knocked twice and then turned the handle and entered to see all three ladies sitting around eating their fill of a hearty stew from a pot sitting on a table. What was more surprising was that Pacian was in one of the beds, covered up to his neck in blankets as he slowly sipped stew from a bowl.

"My, my, don't you all look comfortable," Aiden remarked, closing the door behind him.

"You're talking about me, aren't you," Pacian retorted, his voice sounding strange. "I'll have you know that I'm sick, and our lovely ladies are taking care of me."

"You've caught a cold?" Aiden remarked, unconsciously heading over to the food with his mouth watering. "When did this happen?"

"He's pushed himself too hard, these last few days," Nellise explained, sitting at the foot of the bed. "The tonic of kahve he was taking wasn't helping, either."

"Is that what you call it?" Aiden asked rhetorically, drawing a nod from Nellise.

"What are we talking about?" Criosa inquired curiously.

"A herbal draught with remarkable properties," Nellise explained. "It can keep you on your feet even when you're spent, though it can be dangerous in large doses. We made extensive use of it recently."

"Why hello, Aiden, would you like to have some of our food?" Criosa interrupted with exaggerated courtesy. To his surprise, Aiden noticed he was ladling into a bowl without being aware of it.

"I'm sorry, Your Highness, my stomach seems to be in charge of my hands right now," he apologised.

"She's just teasing you, Aiden," Sayana pointed out tiredly from her own bed. An empty bowl sat on the covers next to her with another in her hands. "I've learned she does that a lot."

"Nice to see you're awake again Sy," he said to her as Criosa grinned impishly. "I was worried after you'd passed out earlier."

"As was I," Nellise added. "I understand the situations we encounter may call for it, but you push yourself too far, Sayana. Your health may suffer if you continue this way."

"I don't do it on purpose," the sorceress replied, her voice weak with the continued effort of conducting a conversation. "My abilities have grown with all the practice and good food I've had access to in recent weeks. I just can't seem to eat enough to keep my strength up."

"It's probably all those big, impressive things you've been doing," Criosa said dismissively. "Nellise told me what you did to separate the ships. I've seen a few powerful wizards perform similar feats before, but never anything of this magnitude before. You must let me peruse your spellbook one day." Sayana glanced at Aiden briefly at this request, for she didn't have any books.

"Anyway, we've at least another day of sailing before we reach Fairloch," Criosa continued, oblivious to their silent exchange, "so you can just lay back and rest. I'll see to it that you'll have as much food as you can eat, even if I have to steal from the captain's own plate."

"He might be a bit upset about that," Aiden remarked with a wry grin.

"Well he's certainly not going to say no to me!" she smirked. "Forgive my buoyant mood, but I'm rather pleased with the heroics from all of you, today. Sir Denholm informed me that the pirate ship was in the employ of the traitorous blaggards who sought to take me captive, and once more, you've thwarted them."

"At the cost of many lives," Aiden pointed out soberly. "I don't know who is behind all this, but they've no compunctions about killing anyone that gets in their way. You might spare a thought for those that have died in your service, Highness."

"I'm not ambivalent to their sacrifice, Aiden," she answered quietly. "But I am comforted by the knowledge that their skill and dedication brought about another victory for us."

"You're welcome," Pacian mumbled with his mouth full.

"What exactly did you contribute?" Aiden asked of his old friend, as he sat at the foot of Sayana's bed, the only free space left in the small cabin.

"I guarded the princess with my very life, I'll have you know," Pace informed him. "Took down a sneaky bugger who managed to get through the front line somehow."

"What did you do, sneeze on him?" Aiden inquired, drawing a laugh from Criosa that dispelled her pensive mood.

"I stabbed the bastard, like I always do," Pacian growled, coughing briefly. "Managed to keep from sniffling and coughing long enough for him to think I wasn't hiding in the doorway."

"And I'm grateful you were there," Criosa said, patting him on the leg.

"Say, couldn't you cure me of this cold?" Pacian asked Nellise.

"I've spent the last hour tending to the wounded men of this vessel, and I am spent," Nellise explained patiently. "A common cold combined with exhaustion wasn't precisely a high priority Pacian, and a day or two of rest and reflection will have you back on your feet, ready to annoy us all with your endless quips."

"Reflection? On what?"

"On stabbing Commander Black in the throat with a knife, after he had surrendered," she said, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, that," Pacian mumbled. "We didn't actually see him die, you know, so it's possible he pulled through."

"Yeah, people get stabbed in the throat and keep living all the time," Aiden remarked sarcastically. "I'm with Nel on this one. Get some rest and try to think about how you might avoid killing helpless people in the future."

"So, it's nothing to do with being tired then, you're just out to punish me," Pacian muttered.

"It's a little of both," Nellise clarified, giving him an unremitting gaze that made him squirm. The sound of someone knocking on the cabin door could be heard.

"Aiden, would you mind?" Criosa asked him politely. Upon opening the door, he saw Travis, the captain's steward, standing there with a platter of sausages and buttered bread, and a small bowl of apples.

"The captain sends his compliments, Your Highness," Travis said, "and hopes you and your entourage will enjoy this meal." He brought in the food and placed it on the small table, and was about to remove the pot of stew when a puppy-like whimper came from Sayana's mouth, prompting laughter from all present, except the momentarily confused steward who eventually figured out the strange noise was a signal for him to leave the remaining stew for her to finish off.

"You know, that almost sounded like a joke," Pacian observed. "Could it be that you're developing a sense of humour?"

"Why is that funny?" she asked, somewhat confused. "I observed wolf pups in the mountains do that to get more food," she explained, leaning forward to grab the pot and continuing to eat.

"Oh, well, I guess that makes sense," Nellise said awkwardly, exchanging a quick glance with Aiden, who had nothing to offer on the interesting revelation. "Alright, I think that's just about enough conversation for now," the cleric continued, standing up and smoothing her robe. "I think it would be appropriate for Pacian to return to his own cabin, so Aiden, if you would be so kind as to help him up?" He complied, helping his grumbling friend out of bed and across the hallway, where he was deposited onto the lower bunk to promptly fall asleep.

"He doesn't let anything worry him, does he?" Criosa whispered from the doorway, peering inside. "He's been through a war, witnessed death, and been responsible for some of it with his own hands, yet he sleeps like a babe."

"Don't be jealous, Your Highness," Aiden replied in an equally quiet voice as he moved back towards the door. "Pace has a twisted sense of morality that lets him do those things with a clear conscience, but he paid a heavy price to get it."

"Perhaps, though I am still envious," she said pensively. "Anyway, Nellise and I were going to take a stroll around the ship for some fresh air and to personally thank the crew. I would ask you to join us, but I can see the fatigue in your eyes so I shall let you rest."

"I appreciate that, Highness," Aiden said, inclining his head slightly. "Perhaps we'll talk later." She smiled and nodded, then quietly closed the door. Thankful he didn't have to hold himself together any longer, he clambered up onto the top bunk and finally lay back to unwind from the difficult morning.

Aiden had hoped to sleep for a while, but despite the hectic morning, his body was convinced it was daytime and he should be active instead of lying about in bed. Still, his mind drifted as he listened to the sounds of the sea, only rarely interrupted by the shouts of sailors, or the thumping of feet on the deck above.

After a while he reached into his pack and took out the small metal cube they'd gone to such lengths to retrieve from the ruins of the ancient dwarven city of Ferrumgaard. Aiden lay back on his bed, holding the cube above him as he pondered what it was all about. On an impulse, he touched the cube to the shard of the orb that hung around his neck, but it yielded no result.

According to the old book where he'd first learned about the cube, there was definitely more to it than he was seeing but it was being an obstinate little relic, refusing to yield any of its secrets. Feeling stymied by the strange mystery once more, he despondently dropped the cube back into his pack and pushed all thoughts of it from his mind.

* * *

They spent the remainder of the day below deck, making good use of the time to catch up on rest. Their safe arrival in Fairloch was in the hands of the crew, and there was nothing more for Aiden and his companions to do except wait. Travis continued to serve them meals on request, and Aiden slept well that night, his dreams undisturbed by strange imagery for once, although Pacian's heavy snoring did wake him on more than one occasion.

Shivering with an unexpected chill the next morning, Aiden climbed down from his bunk and put on an extra layer of clothing. He started to climb back into bed, when he happened to glance out of the porthole and was struck by a sense of foreboding. Early morning light was filtering through a leaden sky onto the grey seas, and Aiden found himself staring out at a bleak scene in the distance.

Dark, heavy clouds hung in the air near the horizon, and occasional flashes of lightning could be seen, briefly illuminating a distant island. No details could be seen this far away, but a feeling of dread welled up for no discernable reason. Uncertainty plaguing his thoughts, Aiden left the cabin and headed upstairs, emerging onto the main deck to get a better look.

There was noticeable tension amongst the crew as they worked hard to nurse the damaged ship along its way, the men obviously feeling the same sense of foreboding that had prompted Aiden to investigate further. Moving to the rail, Aiden saw Criosa and Nellise looking out over the water, heavy cloaks keeping the ladies warm against the bitter chill.

"I was about to say 'good morning, Aiden'," Nellise greeted him in a quiet voice, "but that would seem to contradict what lies before us."

"I've seen bad weather before," Aiden remarked, "but for some reason, looking at that island sends a shiver up my spine that has nothing to do with the temperature."

"It's called the Isle of the Dead," Criosa explained solemnly. "The wrecks of dozens of ships are littered along its coast; their crews having been thrown off course by the bad weather that frequently plagues this region." Turning to look around at the crew, Aiden could see a few of them taking a minute to doff their hats and stare solemnly at the graveyard of sailors.

"We're fortunate to have sailed through this area in fair weather," Ronan mentioned, working nearby. "I've been through here a few times in rough seas and I count my blessings that I haven't met my end on that bloody island."

"There's more to it than that," Simons added, looking around furtively. "Some say that there's a necromancer on that island, who's slowly building an army of the dead. And when enough sailors have died on its shores, they'll march across the sea and destroy the world."

"Some people will believe anything," Ronan remarked dryly. "I wouldn't pay much attention to such ravings, ladies."

"Perish the thought," Nellise agreed, unperturbed as always by the mention of the occult. "But I think I have seen enough of that grim place, and shall return to my cabin for the remainder of the voyage. Your Highness," she finished, inclining her head slightly as she headed down below.

"Rather formal, isn't she?" Criosa asked of Aiden as he leaned against the rail next to her, trying to appear casual about it, but feeling self-conscious nonetheless.

"Yes, how dare she be so formal when addressing royalty," he drawled.

"That's not what I mean," Criosa continued, arching one eyebrow slightly. "We've shared some close moments since we came aboard, and she's still distant. I know why, of course," she added hastily, "but... she's keeping me at arm's length."

"It's quite understandable," Aiden said. "Given time, I'm sure she'll recover well enough." Criosa looked like she wanted to say more, but remained silent. It was a slightly awkward moment between the two, although the princess carried herself with more aplomb than Aiden did. The long silence was eventually interrupted by Sir Denholm, who was making his morning inspection of the ship.

"God has seen fit to bless us with fair winds this day," he remarked, looking up at the grey skies with an expert eye. "If the weather holds, we shall see Fairloch before nightfall."

"Thank you, Captain," Criosa responded, "it will be lovely to be back home again."

"I suspect, Highness, that you may find your home a little less hospitable than you remember it," Sir Denholm cautioned. "Your life is at stake, and forces plot against you and your father. Were I in command of your personal security, I wouldn't let you out of my sight until the crisis had been resolved."

"You don't think I'll be confined to the castle, do you?" the princess asked, her attention now fully focused on the captain.

"It is not my place to speculate on the policies of my counterparts," Sir Denholm replied hesitantly. "Given the situation, I would deem it a possibility, and a sensible one at that."

"That sounded remarkably similar to speculation," Aiden commented, a half-smile on his lips.

"I fail to see the resemblance," the captain said without a hint of a smile on his face. "You strike me as having a little too much free time, Mister Wainwright. Woulfe, stop smirking like a buffoon and have Mister Wainwright assist you in scrubbing down the deck."

"I'm happy to assist, Captain," Aiden answered, though menial work wasn't his favourite thing in the world.

"Carry on, then," Sherrard ordered. Criosa had watched the proceedings with a straight face, although her eyes were dancing with mischievous glee before the captain, noticing this, ushered her downstairs to prevent her presence distracting the crew.

Aiden spent the next few hours washing down the decks and generally assisting Ronan in the smaller duties that occupied his time. Despite the hard work, Aiden actually seemed to enjoy it, for it took his mind off other matters for a while.

The weather continued to remain mild, despite the lightning that danced on the horizon, and the battered ship made good progress as they passed along the southern edge of the small chain of islands known as the Stepping Stones. After a light lunch of biscuits and dried beef, Aiden found himself with spare time to stand on the rail and look out over the sea.

The chill in the air became more acute as they approached the coast, and even at this distance it was plain that the ground was covered in a blanket of snow. Captain Sherrard, buried deep in his longcoat, corrected their course from his place on the bridge as the ship ploughed onward, aiming for a narrow channel of water in the midst of an inlet.

The wind began to drop off as the Redoubtable sauntered through the channel, and Aiden's breath began to mist in the air before him. In the distance, a large fort could be seen atop a hill to the north of the inlet, vigilantly watching the entrance.

Shortly thereafter, Criosa and the others appeared on deck, even Sayana and Pacian, who both looked somewhat improved from their extended rest.

"Are you finished with your work already?" Criosa teased. "I was bringing your friends along to see your new vocation for themselves."

"Sorry to disappoint you all," Aiden sighed theatrically. "It turns out that I'm just too damned efficient."

"Plus, I did most of the work," Ronan added laconically from near the rail.

"Your Highness, perhaps you and your entourage would care to join me on the bridge for the final leg?" Captain Sherrard called down to them. "We should be arriving at Fairloch within the hour, if my calculations are correct. We are passing through the 'fair loch' of her namesake, 'loch' being the Olde Aielish word for 'lake', of course," he added for Sayana's benefit, who seemed to be confused by the description.

"But we just came through an inlet," Aiden pointed out. "Lakes are surrounded by land, are they not?"

"Yes, it's not actually a lake, in the general sense of the word," Criosa explained. "It's really more of a bay with a narrow entrance, so I'm not sure why they called it that, to be honest."

"I can answer that one," Nellise chimed in. "When the first explorers arrived at the site of what is now the city of Fairloch, they saw what appeared to be a lake — or 'loch' in Olde Aielish — fed by a small river from the east, and failed to explore to the coastline until the name 'Fairloch' had been established for many months. By then, everyone was used to it."

"Fair loch," the captain muttered, rubbing his hands together for warmth. "The irony of it is that you can rarely see the damned thing for the fog. Helm, two points to starboard." The helmsman repeated the order and turned the tiller a little to the right. Looking around, Aiden could see that there was indeed a layer of fog forming over the surface of the water, shrouding their vision as it grew in thickness.

Despite their reduced vision, the distant sounds of the city rang clearly over the calm waters — the incessant chatter of thousands of people, the clatter of wheels upon cobblestone streets and, of course, the curious aroma that came with it.

"I hope this place is more exciting than it smells," Pacian remarked dryly. "Because it smells as exciting as taking a sh—"

"Mister Savidge, watch your tongue, if you please!" Sir Denholm barked. "There are ladies present, so comport yourself appropriately or I shall have you confined to your cabin while we dock." Pacian nodded, and then bravely glared at the back of the captain's head when he wasn't looking.

After performing some slight course adjustments, the ship dropped anchor within sight of the shore. Fairloch's tall buildings loomed above the fog, lining the horizon around them like grey watchmen over the sea.

"Home at last," Sir Denholm sighed, then turned to address their small group. "When you leave the confines of the Redoubtable, you leave my particular sphere of authority. I have concerns about the safety of the princess once you are ashore, for it has become clear that the reach of our enemies is considerable. My crew and I are under strict orders to repair the ship as quickly as possible and return to the front lines near Tulsone, so I charge you, Mister Wainwright, and your companions to see Her Highness safely to the castle, stopping for nothing and nobody."

"You really think there's going to be danger here, in the capital?" Nellise asked dubiously.

"We cannot rule anything out at this juncture," Sir Denholm replied crisply. "Though the people of the city are generally fair-minded, there are more nefarious elements that may be involved with whoever is attempting to waylay our dear princess. Our adversary isn't short on funds, and could well have bought half the scoundrels in this city to do his bidding — both those on the street, and those with influence in the upper echelons of power."

"My final advice is twofold. I do not believe you will be able to trust many within the City Watch, though it pains me to cast dispersions upon their honour. True allies will be hard to find, so I have a partial solution — Woulfe will accompany you."

"He will?" Aiden asked in surprise, as they all turned to see Ronan nearby, paused halfway through coiling up some rope.

"I will?"

"There's nobody else who understands the streets of Fairloch better than you," Captain Sherrard stated. Aiden wasn't sure why this was the case, though had a feeling he was about to find out.

"That's just a rumour," Ronan replied. "I'm just as clueless as the next man."

"Don't play coy with me, sir," the captain said, coldly. "I'm well aware of your past, Nighthawk. I would be a poor excuse for a captain if I didn't know everything about the men under my command."

"'Nighthawk?'" Aiden repeated, looking curiously at the sailor, who seemed to be ready to leap over the side of the ship at a moment's notice.

"I thought I'd covered that up good and proper," Ronan muttered, turning pale under his tanned skin. "No one's called me Nighthawk in a long time."

"I'm not bringing this up to hurt you, Ronan," the captain assured him. "But these are dangerous times, and men of your unique talents are rare indeed. They will have need of you, and frankly, I order you to go with them."

"Oh, well, when you put it that way," Ronan replied sarcastically. "Look, I joined the service to get away from all that, Captain, and I ain't exactly eager to face my demons."

"We all do what we must, Ronan. If you co-operate, I'll do my utmost to see that you are fully pardoned for your chequered past."

'I will see to it, Captain," Criosa added, having remained a silent witness to this conversation until now. "Ronan, you have my word that your slate will be cleared. If you have some way of helping us, please do so — for the sake of the Kingdom."

"You might not be so quick to offer a pardon if you knew everything I'd done," Ronan replied grimly.

"A man is defined by his actions in the here and now, not by something he did in a previous life," Sir Denholm declared. "I am a passing fair judge of character, and I've seen you change considerably from the man you were when you first came aboard. Whatever you did in the past, it is no longer who you are now."

"Don't let them blackmail you, mate," Pacian chimed in. "Do what's best for you."

"This is a big decision. I need a minute or two to think about it, Ronan remarked quietly, as he walked towards the back of the upper deck to look out over the sea.

"I trust he will make the right choice," Sir Denholm assured them quietly. "I will see the longboat is made ready." He issued orders to expedite their imminent departure.

"I'll go have a word with him," Aiden quietly told the others, then strode casually over to where Ronan was deep in thought.

"Y'know, it's funny," he said as Aiden leaned on the rail beside him. "I spent most of my life in the alleyways of this city, yet never ventured out onto the open sea before joining the navy."

"How is that funny?" Aiden asked, failing to see the humour.

"Well, Fairloch being a port city 'n all," Ronan clarified. "You know, lots of water close by, yet I never ventured out in so much as a dinghy. I've come to love the sea, these past two years. It cleared my head, and helped me to see things differently."

"I don't know what your past was like, though I gather it was far from pleasant."

"Yeah, wasn't all warm and comfy like things are now," Ronan replied dryly. "I'm just seeing the irony of finally finding a place I can be myself, and then being forced back into the underworld."

"Underworld?" Aiden asked. "Were you a criminal or something?"

"Never convicted as such, no," he replied with a wink.

"I see. Well, no one's forcing you to do anything, regardless of what the captain said," Aiden assured him.

"I can read between the lines, Aiden. If I don't do this, the cap'n is going to inform the authorities," Ronan disclosed, his voice flat and emotionless.

"Perhaps," Aiden answered dubiously. "Captain Sherrard doesn't strike him as a man who would sell out one of his own crew, regardless of past transgressions, particularly after he made that little speech about a man's past not governing who he is now."

"Don't get me wrong, I love this place, Aiden, and I do feel some small sense of obligation," Ronan continued. "Naval life instils a sense of duty into you, after all. Besides, you and your friends would get lost in this city without a guide, and I'm the best there is. If you're investigating a conspiracy against the Crown, my guess is you'd all be dead within two days, and that's being optimistic, because I really like you lot."

"It sounds to me like you know the kind of people we'll be dealing with," Aiden observed with a wry grin. "The captain was right, you'd be an invaluable aide."

"I guess I've made a decision then," Ronan sighed, turning to face Criosa and the others. "If anyone asks, you had to threaten me to join up. I have a reputation to maintain."

"I won't mention to anyone how easily I swayed your decision," Aiden quipped, finally drawing a grin from the laconic sailor.

"Okay, you've got me," Ronan said to Criosa as they strode back over to join them. "But I want a large pile of money for this, part of it paid in advance in the form of decent equipment."

"We have an accord, then," Criosa beamed. "Aiden, you'll need some equipment too, am I correct?"

"Yes, Highness, it will be hard to defend you armed only with my... arms. Perhaps I should have kept that cutlass for a while longer." Her face light up at this news.

"Never mind that," she said, "we're going shopping."
Chapter Four

The longboat pulled alongside the navy's designated jetty nearly ten minutes later with Aiden and the others crammed aboard, along with the captain and five sailors. Naturally, Aiden and Pacian had to do their share of rowing, for there wasn't enough room for all of the passengers in addition to a full complement of sailors.

Strong hands on the jetty helped bring the ladies onto the pier first, with Aiden climbing ashore just before the captain. Snow covered the wooden pier, and the sun was just resting on the horizon by this time, shedding a subtle orange glow through the thickening fog. The cacophony from the city was louder than ever, now that they stood amidst it, and it was a harsh sound indeed compared to the sounds of the sea Aiden had become used to.

"This is where we part ways, ladies and gentlemen," Sir Denholm told them, his voice crisp in the chill evening air as he disembarked from the longboat. "I must advise the admiral of the latest news and see to the repairs to the Redoubtable. I would, however, strongly advise against your course of action, Your Highness. Several attempts have been made on your life, and I hardly think it is fitting for you to go and buy a new dress at this time. Consider the officer's attire you now wear as a manner of disguise, if you will."

"Forgive me captain, but I failed to notice many female officers on your ship," she replied archly. "Am I to disguise myself as something that does not exist?"

"Certainly not, I—"

"Or do you believe that I pass for a man in this garb?" Criosa pressed and before Sir Denholm could speak further, accentuated her point by pulling aside her navy blue longcoat to reveal her shapely legs, tightly wrapped in white hose.

"Your Highness, this is highly inappropriate," the captain protested, averting his gaze.

"Yes, it is," Criosa agreed, "which is why I must attire myself properly before entering court. The scandal of a woman dressed as a man — and a naval officer at that — would follow me around for the rest of my days."

"Your point is well made," the captain conceded at last, "though I find your methods of persuasion somewhat distasteful."

"Now you're sounding like my father," Criosa mused, not altogether pleased with the captain's assessment. "Thank you for providing us with passage, Sir Denholm. I will send word to the Admiralty that you performed your duty above and beyond the call."

"I am grateful for your high praise, Your Highness," he bowed. "I wish you all good fortune in your endeavours, and I think it goes without saying that if anything should happen to the princess under your aegis, I will personally see that you hang. Good evening, ladies and gentlemen."

"Believe it or not, that was actually a joke," Ronan remarked after the captain was out of earshot.

"How can you be sure?" Nellise asked.

"Once you've been around the man long enough, you pick up subtle things like 'humour' and 'compassion'."

"We can talk some more about that later," Criosa interjected. "The shops are closing soon, and I simply must get out of this uniform." Aiden cast a quick look at Pacian, expecting an unsavoury remark and noticed he was struggling to keep his mouth shut.

The enigmatic sailor led the way so Aiden figured they'd be able to find their way through the foggy streets of Fairloch without walking into a wall. His legs were a bit wobbly and he still felt like the ground was moving beneath him, but he figured this would pass with time.

People of all kinds strolled along the cobblestone streets, though a fair number of them were fishermen, sailors, or other less-scrupulous looking individuals. Having grown up in a small logging community near the edge of the Kingdom — with a population of under two hundred — the bustling city was quite a shock. Ronan weaved amongst the crowds on the narrow street leading from the docks like an old professional, while Aiden was trying to figure out how to avoid bumping into oncoming traffic.

Large houses and other buildings built from bricks or wood towered over the streets, as the dense population had been forced to build upwards in order to stay inside the city's protective walls. Narrow cobblestone streets threaded their way through the tall, closely-packed buildings around them and the smell was a cloying mix of smoke, seaweed and refuse, and he could only hope the entire city wasn't like this.

After five minutes of wading through the morass of citizens, they arrived at a large gated wall, over twelve feet high and made of stone. The gate was open, and people passed through under the shrewd eyes of half a dozen men bearing stout clubs, and dressed in dark blue leathers covered in a tabard bearing the golden dragon standard of Fairloch — the men of the City Watch.

Of their group, only Sayana was carrying visible weaponry, for Pacian's daggers were hidden in the folds of his armour and clothing. Her vythiric axe was on her back, barely noticeable underneath her pack and other belongings, yet Aiden was nervous about the prospect of the City Watch accosting them. He wanted to blend in with the crowd to help them avoid detection.

Sayana seemed nervous, for her eyes were darting about frantically and her steps were uncertain as they approached the guard post. Fortunately, her small stature allowed her to pass by without notice, which was both a relief and a source of discomfort for Aiden. He wondered how many other people were carrying concealed weapons within the city walls. The potential perils of Fairloch's streets were becoming more apparent, even at this early stage.

"People in this city can simply walk around with weapons?" Aiden asked Criosa as they made their way through the throng.

"For now, yes," she replied curtly. "I know it's quite common out in the countryside, but here things are a little different. Father has been imposing regulations to reduce the number of weapons being carried openly in the city, though they're still not technically illegal. You may be inspected by the City Watch if you're seen with weaponry on your person — they're just making sure that you aren't going to murder anyone."

"I feel safer already," Ronan said absently.

"If I have my way, in a few years it will be a punishable offence to bear arms in the city, but you needn't worry about that for the moment," Criosa added.

"No, we just have to worry about everyone else who may be armed," Pacian muttered. "It's going to be difficult to keep you alive if any little old lady could be carrying a concealed weapon."

"I know, but there's only so much we can do," Criosa sighed. "The nobility is resistant to change and it will take time to bring them around."

The fog was diminishing as they moved further from the docks, allowing Aiden to take in more of the scene around them. The quality of the roads and buildings nearby was improving noticeably as they walked, and the clothing worn by passers-by was of a higher quality. An assortment of non-humans could be seen moving amongst the crowd as well. Sturdy, solidly-built dwarves went about their business, along with well-dressed raelani men and women, the little people navigating the crowd of humans with practiced ease. The air even smelled clearer, carrying with it the aromas of hot food and exotic spices.

"This is the Market District," Criosa explained, turning around for a brief moment to speak. Her voice conveyed a sense of pride as she spoke of her home. "If there's anything for sale, it can be found here. We may be on the top of the world, but the Fairloch markets are a central hub for all manner of goods. That leads me to my next topic — your reward."

"Reward?" Pacian asked, sounding innocent despite the twinkle in his green eyes.

"You saved Culdeny and my own life," Criosa explained, leaning close to be heard. "I am not unappreciative. There are some excellent shops around here, so I want each of you to pick something for yourselves. Money is no object, so think big."

"From what I can see, the doors appear to be closing," Ronan pointed out, gesturing at what appeared to be an armoury.

"Sir!" Criosa called out in dismay. As a petite blonde girl with alluring eyes, she did not, of course, have any problem catching the attention of the burly man.

"Sorry ma'am, I'm closing up for the evening," he said gruffly as Aiden's group moved in closer. "The missus doesn't like me working late these days."

"If I could just have a moment of your time," Criosa pressed, stepping right up to face him. They spoke for half a minute, their quiet conversation lost in the din of the surrounding population. The transition of emotions on the face of the big man was curious to watch — he started cautious, then ashamed, and by the end of the conversation he looked like he was trying to figure out how to propose marriage to the princess without his wife finding out.

Whether or not she had used her position in the city to leverage his favour or not was a subject for discussion, yet she succeeded in keeping the doors open for a while longer. She waved Aiden and the others to follow her in. The warm air was a welcome relief from the bitter cold of Fairloch's streets.

"This is Magnus, who has kindly allowed us to peruse his wares after hours," Criosa said as a way of introduction. "Aiden, why don't you, Pacian and Ronan take what you need and I'll catch up with you shortly?"

"Wait, where are you going?" Aiden asked just as she was about to head out the door again.

"There's a dress shop just a few doors down, and I want to get there before they close up. Oh, and I'm stealing your sorceress, too," she added, grabbing Sayana by the wrist and playfully dragging her along, her sudden expression of distress notwithstanding.

"Nel, could you keep an eye on them?" Aiden pleaded, silently wondering how on earth they were going to keep control of the spirited princess, and fearing the repercussions if they didn't. Nellise nodded and joined the other two women.

The three men spent some time examining the weaponry on offer, most of which Aiden couldn't use without risking the lives of everyone around him. He settled upon a fine singlesword nearly three feet in length, a common weapon used by soldiers and the nobility with a straight, doubled edged blade. Ronan settled on a matched pair of short swords for himself, and when he inquired about some leathers, the man behind the counter voiced his opinion.

"Leather? Might as well wear a frock for all the good that'll do you when a sword's coming your way," Magnus grunted.

"Was that a yes or a no? I'm sorry, it was kind of hard to tell," Pacian drawled.

"We don't have the basic leathers," the armourer grunted dourly, "but we do buy some of it from Clancy down the street a bit in order to make the plated stuff."

"Bring it out then," Aiden shrugged.

"Make that two," Ronan added quickly.

"And me," Pacian said as Magnus went through a small door behind the counter to fetch the suits. While they waited for him to return, Ronan turned to speak to Aiden.

"So, this Sayana girl," Ronan asked with a slight catch in his voice. "What's her story?"

* * *

By the time they left the armoury, they'd added quite a bill to Criosa's account, for the plated leather armour that they'd selected was very fine quality indeed. After a little adjustment, Aiden donned the dark-brown suit and found it to be a near-perfect fit.

He had kept his remarks about Sayana short, explaining only how she had lived in the forests and mountains for most of her life, and was a talented sorceress. He refrained from mentioning their brief dalliance, for he didn't want to go into detail of why they parted ways. Ronan listened without comment until Aiden had finished, and then refrained from commenting after he'd stopped, too. It was hard to get a read on the man.

The laconic sailor led them down the snow-covered street a little further, until they reached a store with a sign hanging out front with the words 'Fairloch House of Fashion' engraved upon it.

Once inside, they discovered that despite having ample time to choose a new dress, the princess was still trying things on. Her current choice was a slim blue garment that accentuated her curves nicely. Dresses of varying designs were piled up on the floor nearby, and although the proprietor of the establishment was maintaining a pleasant demeanour, the tightness around her eyes suggested her patience was wearing thin.

"Your Highness, I hardly think this is the time to be concerned with picking the right dress," Aiden suggested diplomatically. "What you have on right now looks fine to me, so how about we get you safely to the castle?"

"There's no rush," she answered with more than a hint of defiance. "I've been living in an old fort for months, and I'm about to endure a prolonged visit to the castle, so permit me to have a little fun while I can." Aiden exchanged a glance with Nellise, who wore a similar expression of suffering impatience as the lady in the store.

"Far be it for me to tell you what you should be doing with your time, Highness, but your pretty new dresses will be irrelevant if you're too dead to wear them," Aiden suggested. Criosa turned and looked shrewdly at the young man, possibly deciding whether or not to be offended by his comment and then sighed at her reflection in the mirror before her.

"Your point is well taken, sir," she relented. "I've suddenly decided upon this one, Anita, and I do apologise for keeping you after hours."

"Not at all, Highness," the lady replied graciously. If she was relieved in any way, she hid it well.

"Before we go however, I have a little surprise for you all," Criosa said, a sly grin appearing on her face as she looked at them over her shoulder. "Sy? Could you come out here, I want to see how you look." Across the room, a door opened up and Sayana walked out, dressed in expensive yet practical clothing. Suede boots complimented her leather trousers, finished off with a snug white blouse and dark vest that seemed to go well together.

"Why didn't you put the dress on?" Criosa cried at the sight of the wild girl's appearance.

"That silly thing was too impractical," Sayana answered bluntly. "How am I supposed to do anything in it without tearing it to pieces?"

"Well, you're not supposed to do anything in a dress like that," the princess explained, "except to stand around and bask in the admiration."

"Nonsense," Sayana said dismissively. "I need to be able to fight, not stand around like..."

"Go on," Criosa dared her as the wild girl suddenly stopped speaking. Sayana glanced briefly at Nellise, who was shaking her head back and forth, her eyes wide.

"It's nothing," the sorceress muttered, eyes on the ground. "I just can't do what I need to do in that thing."

"Your point is valid, I suppose" Criosa conceded. "I still think you would have looked stunning in that red dress. Perhaps another time?"

"Perhaps," Sayana smiled slightly, looking up at the princess with her large green eyes.

"At least allow me tidy your hair a little," Criosa offered, stepping forward to pull back Sayana's mop of wild red hair. The princess managed to move it aside for a brief moment before Sayana recoiled, pushing her hair back into place, but not before they all had a glimpse of her slightly pointed ears, revealing her half-elven ancestry to all present.

"I'm so sorry," Criosa breathed, "I didn't mean to..."

"It's fine," Sayana whispered, taking a heavy winter cloak off a nearby chair and throwing it over her shoulder, allowing her to bring the hood up to obscure her features. Pacian sneezed, the only sound that could be heard for a long moment, contributing to the awkwardness of the situation.

"Perhaps we should get moving, Highness?" Nellise interrupted to draw attention away from the shy girl.

"Yes, I think we've had quite enough fun for one evening," Criosa agreed in a measured voice. "Thank you again, Anita, and I shall forward the balance of my account first thing in the morning."

"I don't know about all of you," Pacian remarked, his breath misting in the freezing cold air as they continued on, "but I'm starving. Can we get something to eat soon?"

"Just as soon as we deliver our package to its destination," Aiden replied, putting his gloves back on. "Is it far to the castle from here?"

"Not far at all, perhaps fifteen minutes," Criosa told him.

The sun had well and truly set by now, and the cold, foggy streets were lit by lanterns hanging on poles. Many people were still out and about, though the majority of the population were no doubt enjoying the warmth of their homes on this winter's evening.

They'd only travelled a few hundred yards when the street opened out into a large, circular area, easily a hundred yards across, with a large statue of a man astride a horse that was rearing up on its hind legs. Around the horse was frozen water, and Aiden assumed it was a fountain in the warmer months.

"This is Foundation Circle," Criosa informed them as they walked across the open space, in her new role as travel guide. "We have a celebration here at the start of every spring, to remember the founding of the city."

"Who's the man on the horse?" Pacian asked.

"King Alaric Roebec, the patriarch of my family who founded the Kingdom of Aielund two hundred and three years ago. If you want to know more, there are extensive texts on his life in the library."

"No, I think I'll manage," Pacian drawled, his allergy to books acting up.

"Do you smell something burning?" Ronan asked, casting his gaze around curiously.

"I've smelt little else since we arrived," Aiden remarked. "I think every single house in this city has a fire burning right now."

"No, not wood smoke, something... else," the sailor muttered to himself.

"I smell it too," Sayana added quietly. "It's very strange. I've never come across anything like it before."

"Wait, I smell it too, now," Nellise said. "I think it's coming from up ahead." Lit by the glow of nearby lanterns, a scene of destruction was visible before the group as they approached the eastern street leading from the Circle. Makeshift wooden gates were placed across the street and a member of the Watch was diverting people away from what appeared to be a crater in the middle of the street with acrid smoke wafting into the breeze. A tall, robed man with an impressive grey beard was talking with the watchman, who seemed to be paying only scant attention.

"I'm sorry, people, but you'll have to go around this mess, just like everyone else," the watchman grunted.

"What happened here?" Aiden inquired, taking in the scene. The crater spanned the entire street, nearly ten yards across, and the shattered chunks of cobblestone were strewn about.

"Seems a few of the wizards at the University got a little carried away with an experiment," the watchman explained. "We're damn lucky nobody got hurt."

"I'm telling you, sir, that it wasn't us!" the robed man — apparently a wizard — protested. "None of the faculty was doing anything of a magnitude great enough to destroy that much stone at this distance."

"And what of your students?" the watchman pressed.

"Those upstarts? Please," the wizard scoffed. "They'd be hard-pressed to burn toast, let alone destroy a street."

"Well, it certainly looks like someone blew up that street," Aiden observed, using the power of empirical evidence to move the conversation forward.

"Archchancellor, are you telling me you keep an eye on every one of your students twenty-four hours a day?" the watchman pressed. "And there isn't even the tiniest chance that one of them did this?" The wizard was quiet for a long moment before he spoke next.

"Well... perhaps there is a minute chance that a student was able to perform such a feat," the Archchancellor admitted. "I shall have to investigate this matter further, and if I find out that anyone at the University is responsible, I'm going to make them do chores 'til their fingers bleed for embarrassing me like this."

"Your embarrassment is only just beginning, sir," Nellise remarked. "Allow me to introduce Princess Criosa Roebec. Your Highness, this is an inept wizard who may have been responsible for blowing up part of your city." The wizard reeled back a step as he looked a little more closely at the blond girl in the pretty blue dress, and appeared to be trying to swallow his own tongue.

"Your Highness, allow me to convey my deepest regrets at this incident," he stammered, breaking out in a cold sweat as the watchman snapped to attention. "Fear not, the University shall make recompense for the damages, I assure you."

"Relax, Zachariah," Criosa said to placate the startled old man. "Accidents happen. See to it that the street is fixed and I'll be sure to forget who was responsible for the damage."

"You're too nice, Criosa," Pacian grumbled, and possibly committing a breach of protocol by calling the princess by her first name. She didn't seem to notice or care, however.

"Thank you, Highness, I am most appreciative of your discretion," the Archchancellor said with obvious relief. "I will see to it that the culprits are caught." He stormed off to get started on his investigation.

"Excitable chap," Aiden remarked mildly.

"He was my teacher at the University for a few years," Criosa told them. "He's a little eccentric, but he's a man of his word so I believe what he's telling us."

"In any case, that's not a major concern for us right now," Aiden said. "Can we pass through, sir?"

"It's quite dangerous underfoot, so I don't recommend it," the watchman replied, still standing to attention in the presence of royalty. "Just head around to the left and take Mantle Lane. It'll reconnect with Renown Street a hundred yards or so down there a ways."

"Thank you for the guidance, and keep up the good work" Criosa said in thanks. The watchman touched his forehead in salute and seemed relieved, and then Ronan led them to a smaller side street heading east, with the sign "Mantle Lane" hanging off a post above them.

"Does that sort of thing happen often around here?" Sayana inquired.

"If you're referring to the damaged street, I think that's the first time an accident like that has ever occurred," Criosa replied casually. "Wizards are usually a careful bunch, which means they limit their explosions to their laboratories, of course. You can learn more about the University while you're here, actually. I'm sure they'd be thrilled to meet another practitioner such as yourself."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that," Nellise muttered, drawing concerned looks from Sayana and the princess. "Have you seen her looking through a spell book, Highness?"

"Well no, actually," Criosa replied uncertainly. "I assumed she was studying while I was busy elsewhere." Sayana shook her head. Criosa's delicate brow creased slightly in thought, and Aiden had to wonder what the problem was.

"Could you ladies perhaps continue that discussion later?" Pacian asked, his attention focused on the laneway they were walking along. "I don't like this." The lane was only half the width of the main street they had been travelling along, with two-storey buildings towering overhead on each side. Although it was a fairly clean passage, there was no sign of other people moving along it.

"What's the problem?" Nellise asked, unconcerned by the empty lane.

"Something feels off," Ronan stated, looking back at the way they'd came. Aiden was starting to feel the tension build when he was struck by something on the back of his head, sending him onto his knees as he reeled from the blinding pain. The rasp of steel being drawn from scabbards could be heard around him, and within an instant, they were fighting for their lives.

Throwing his back against the wall of the alley, Aiden took in the situation with a quick glance, and saw four shadowy figures in amongst them, their faces obscured by black hoods and face masks. The glint of steel daggers flashed, with one assailant in particular catching Aiden's attention, since he was plunging a blade straight for his gut.

His head ringing, Aiden managed to move enough to prevent the blade going straight in, though it caught the flat of his new armour and was pushed aside.

Drawing his sword, Aiden engaged his agile opponent, having difficulty focusing with his injured head. If he wanted to end this fight rapidly, he had to take away his enemy's greatest advantage — his mobility. Reaching down, Aiden grasped some snow with his free hand and threw it in the direction of the shadowy figure's face.

The attacker flinched and hesitated, giving Aiden the chance he needed to step in and slash at the assassin's legs, cutting deeply into flesh and splashing blood onto the snowy ground. With his leg injured, his opponent was much easier to hit, and with three quick strikes Aiden was able to bring him down.

Looking around, he saw Sayana had just cleaved her opponent's skull open with her axe, but Pacian was on the ground already. Ronan was struggling to keep the remaining two assailants away from the unarmoured ladies, his twin short swords whirling about in defensive arcs with practiced precision.

Nellise held her staff, and the slight shimmer to her robe suggested that she had enacted a prayer of protection for herself, but Criosa had been caught off-guard by the attack and hadn't even drawn her rapier. The fetching blue dress she had bought was inhibiting her movements, and the impractical shoes she now wore prevented her from running.

Aiden, his vision clearing, rushed in with his blade swinging in a wide arc across the assassin's back. The attacker turned about to face him, keeping his injured back against his comrade while he drew a short sword from underneath his dark cloak. Aiden summoned his force shield and waded in with Sayana joining in on the fight.

Unable to defend against so many, the assailants were cut down by a combination of sword and axe, leaving Aiden and the others standing over the fallen men, struggling to catch their breaths from the brief yet ferocious encounter.

"Pace," Aiden breathed, turning to look at his friend who was leaning against the nearby wall with a hand on his stomach, a dark stain of blood leaking from between his fingers.

"I'll take care of it," Nellise said, rushing to his aid. Aiden blew out a heavy breath, and looked over at Criosa to make sure she was alright. The princess was leaning against the other wall, one hand held up before her with blood upon it. A moment, later, her knees gave way and she toppled over into the snow. Aiden hurried over and knelt by her side, summoning a magical light from the tip of his sword without even thinking about it and examining her wound.

"I don't feel so good," Criosa whispered. "I thought it was just a scratch..."

"It is just a scratch, you're going to be fine," Aiden assured her, expertly covering the fear he felt in the pit of his stomach. "Nel, when you've got a minute, you'd better take a look at this."

"I've got my hands full at the moment, literally," Nellise called back.

"Ronan, go and get that guard, we need help here," Aiden instructed. Ronan nodded and ran around the corner, leaving Aiden to hold Criosa in his arms for a long moment.

"It was such a nice dress, too," she said weakly. "Now I've gone and ruined it."

"Don't worry, it's just an excuse to go and buy another one," Aiden shrugged with a fake grin, trying to keep calm.

"He's gone!" Ronan called as he came back around the corner. "The bastard ran off."

"Maybe he went to get help?" Sayana offered.

"I hope so," Aiden muttered. "How is Criosa?"

"This cut isn't deep," Nellise reported after a cursory examination. "I think she's been poisoned, though if it is, she only caught a bit of it."

"How can you tell?" Aiden asked.

"Because she's still alive," Nellise informed him grimly. "I can help her, but we need to get her someplace warm. Pick her up, we're taking her to the castle.

"Right. Ronan, search through their gear and see if you can find something that might tell us who they were, and why they attacked."

"On it," Ronan replied, as Aiden gentle picked Criosa up in his arms and started moving towards the castle as quickly as he could.

Chapter Five

Criosa wasn't a great burden to Aiden as they moved through the streets as quickly as his legs would carry them, though his heart did beat faster at the thought of her dying. Sayana led the way, her axe poised to strike anyone who threatened to hinder their progress, though nobody they encountered seemed to be interested in questioning why a small woman carried such a large weapon.

The castle loomed over the city streets with guards stationed out in front of the drawbridge, who allowed them to pass without incident and even expedited the opening of the main gates to aid their stricken princess. Nellise made quick mention that two more men would be following, for Aiden couldn't stop to wait for Ronan and Pacian.

Aiden was breathing hard by the time they reached the first large chamber inside the castle, which appeared to be some sort of waiting room. Large couches were placed against all the walls and a huge fireplace burned brightly to keep the cold at bay. Expensive carpets covered the floors, their colours a stark contrast to the grey stone around them. Large portraits hung on the walls, though Aiden didn't have time to look at them closely at this particular moment.

"Set her down over here," Nellise ordered, pointing at the couch closest to the fireplace. He gently set his delicate cargo down and then stepped back, allowing the cleric to do her work. Instead of taking out her prayer crystal, she retrieved her medicine satchel and began grinding up various odd-smelling herbs.

Glancing around, Aiden saw various officials scurrying about, some bringing fresh water at Nellise's request, while others fetched important people of rank to deal with this situation.

Ronan, half dragging, half carrying the wounded Pacian along with him, entered the chamber and after a brief examination of the room, set him down on a couch. Aiden went to his side, to make sure that his wounds hadn't re-opened on the rush to get to safety. Fortunately, Nellise had done just enough to staunch the flow of blood, though Pacian's pale features indicated he was still in a lot of pain.

"Remind me again why I follow you around?" Pacian croaked.

"For the money and the women," Aiden drawled, drawing a half-grin from his old friend.

"Don't forget the frequent crippling injuries," Pacian groaned.

"Just relax, she'll get to you in a minute." At that moment, the large double-doors leading further into the castle opened wide and several people emerged, two of whom were clearly men of importance.

One was a thin man in his thirties, with a receding hairline and thick eyebrows and dressed in the simple white robe of a cleric. The other was tall and sharp-featured, wearing a tailored suit of fine fabric and a dark blue coat. Upon seeing the unmoving form of Criosa, both rushed to her side, the cleric kneeling down to assist Nellise in administering whatever antidote she had concocted.

"In God's name, what happened?" the finely-dressed man asked no one in particular. Upon closer inspection, he was an older gentleman, with neatly combed hair and a trimmed beard. Keen eyes looked down on the injured princess with almost fatherly concern.

"The princess was attacked in an alleyway," Aiden explained, stepping forward to speak when no one else did. "We fought them off, but she was poisoned."

"Please tell me you can cure it," he stated, holding his breath.

"Whatever she was poisoned with, it was only a small dose," Nellise replied, distracted by her task. "It must have been coated on their knives... although Pacian hasn't shown signs of poisoning, and he was stabbed in the belly. That indicates it could be a very specific target they had in mind." Nellise applied her poultice to the wound and Criosa flinched in pain, but then calmed down and to everyone's surprise, yawned widely.

"I... didn't expect that," Nellise observed uncertainly, looking to her counterpart in the priestly robe for advice.

"Perhaps it is some sort of sleep-inducing poison?" he mused, eyes darting about in thought.

"Could be," Ronan replied dubiously. "I've heard of such things over the years, but it'd be rare."

"So, her life isn't in peril?" the official asked, wringing his hands.

"I don't know for certain," Nellise hedged, "but her pulse is strong, which can only be a good thing."

"This makes sense, when you think about it," Aiden explained as it all seemed to fall into place in his mind. "The people behind the attack on Culdeny wanted to capture her, not kill her. And on the ship, that wizard wanted to take her away, too. Why would they want to kill her after going to all that trouble?"

"And who might you be?" the official asked, turning his gaze to Aiden.

"He is Aiden Wainwright, the hero of the Battle of Culdeny," Criosa whispered, sweat beading on her brow as she spoke.

"Your Highness, you have no idea how relieved I am to hear your voice," the official breathed, kneeling down by her side. Although Aiden was sure about his hypothesis, he hadn't been completely certain, and he felt just as much relief as the others at her awakening.

"We only received word this morning that you had embarked upon a ship for Fairloch," the official continued, "and have been expecting your arrival, though in far less dramatic fashion. What is her condition, sister?"

"This poultice should neutralise what remains of the poison, though she will need to rest in order to recover her strength," Nellise informed him, standing up and brushing off her robe, clasping the halo-ringed sword of her faith with one hand.

"I concur with her assessment, Castellan Hodges," the robed man agreed, speaking to the official. "I will, of course, see to her recovery personally. We should have her moved to her room to provide her with more familiar surroundings."

"Do as you see fit, Prelate," the castellan replied, gesturing to several servants standing by to assist the priest. When they reached down to try and pick up Criosa, however, she waved them away.

"I am capable of walking to my own room," she informed everyone present, and slowly pulled herself upright, with only a little assistance from Nellise.

"You really shouldn't be moving about, Your Highness," the prelate remarked, as more of an observation than an order.

"Balderdash — if it isn't going to kill me, it will only make me stronger," Criosa said dismissively, her words slurred. Despite this bold claim, her body seemed to have other ideas, threatening to topple over without warning. "Although, it would be nice to have a little help," she quietly added. Aiden was about to move forward to help her when two of the servants dashed in, offering their shoulders for her to lean on.

The castellan led them into the next chamber, with Aiden and his companions following along behind as they walked slowly down a short hall and into a large, open space that took his breath away.

Tapestries depicting great scenes from the country's history lined the walls of what was the largest interior space he'd ever seen. Lavish carpets were laid over the flagstones, and elegant columns rose up to the high ceiling, lining a path leading directly to a raised dais upon which stood a throne wrought of steel and gold. Two blazing fireplaces brought the temperature to a comfortable level, and combined with the two dozen lanterns that hung from the columns, provided soft light. The faint smell of lavender was in the air.

Up ahead, an elderly gentleman with a neatly trimmed grey hair and accompanying beard was entering the chamber, accompanied by a middle-aged man wearing heavy armour in the livery of a knight of the realm. Two frustrated servants moved beside the older man, trying to help him finish donning his formal attire while he strode briskly towards the entryway, their footsteps echoing in the vast chamber.

"By God, is that you, Criosa?" he called as the two groups closed the distance between them.

"Uncle Charlie, I'm so glad to see you again," the princess replied, struggling to keep her eyelids open. The elderly man rushed forward and embraced the blonde girl, a look of immeasurable relief on his weathered features.

"I'm starting to get the impression you two have met before," Aiden remarked with a warm smile as the embrace showed no signs of stopping. Criosa finally let the old man go and almost staggered backwards, to be caught by the two servants.

"So it's true — you've been poisoned," he breathed.

"A mild dose of some sort of sleeping poison," the prelate quickly answered. "I believe she will make a rapid recovery, although I must insist she be taken to her room immediately."

"Yes, of course, go ahead," the old man answered, waving the servants onward. "Get some rest my dear, we shall speak soon."

"Alright, but these are my friends, and I trust them with my life, okay? Listen to them, especially Aiden, he's really smart..." Criosa mumbled, allowing herself to be arried along with Castellan Hodges and the prelate in close pursuit. Once the door had closed behind them, the elderly man turned to address Aiden.

"There goes a brave young lady," he stated fondly. "I cannot adequately express my gratitude for conveying Criosa here safely. I am Charles Montague, Duke of Fairloch, and this is my aide, Sir Godfrey Davis." The armoured man bowed his head at the mention of his name.

He bore a thick, bristling grey moustache and his grey eyes sparkled keenly under his furrowed brow. A resplendent arming sword hung from one hip, and a heavy shield was strapped to his back.

"It's a pleasure to meet you both," Aiden said, keeping his tone respectful. He introduced his companions.

"It is both an honour and a pleasure to make your acquaintances, though I wish it were under better circumstances," the duke continued. "I know you must be tired from your difficult journey, but I must hear how Criosa came to be wounded."

"To put it plainly, there was another attempt to take her captive by shadowy assailants whose origin we still don't know," Aiden explained grimly. "This is the third direct assault upon her in a week. We might not be so lucky next time."

"I heard news of her initial capture, and the battle of Culdeny," the duke said, "but not of any further attempts since then."

"We were attacked at sea, and then again, just a few minutes ago in the middle of the city."

"Attacked in our own city?" the Duke bristled, glancing at Sir Godfrey in outrage. "Where did this take place?"

"In the market district, Your Grace," Nellise answered after a quick look from Aiden. His knowledge of the city's layout was still rather vague. "A section of the main road had been damaged due to some sort of experiment at the University, and we were forced to detour through some alleyways. That's where the villains made their move."

"Blast!" the duke cursed, his pale face turning red and splotchy with rage. "I knew we had such people living within our walls, but never before has there been an attempt on a member of the royal family. I had thought they would have been smarter than that, for now the entire weight of the Watch will be upon them."

"Ronan, did you find anything of interest on their bodies?" Aiden asked curiously.

"Yeah, I found their instructions," the sailor replied, fishing some small items out of one of his pockets. "There was this crumpled note with a suitably vague message on it. It reads — 'The area is prepared. The mark has arrived and will be heading through shortly. Do not fail.' It is signed 'Number One', which tells us exactly nothing."

"Except..." Aiden began, a thought occurring to him, "the guard who diverted us to the alleyway had disappeared after the attack had begun. He might have been involved somehow. Someone should try and find the guard and question him."

"How far does the reach of these people extend?" Nellise wondered aloud. "They must have corrupted the City Watch to achieve their ends. Is there anyone here we can even trust?"

"More than that," Ronan added grimly, "is the prospect of the assassin's guild resurfacing in Fairloch once more. The style of their attack made me think about how those bastards used to operate, and this sort of job is right up their alley. Excuse the pun."

"The assassin's guild was destroyed decades ago," the duke informed them, his tone dark and foreboding. "I cannot imagine who would have brought them back to Fairloch. If they are involved then the royal family is in serious danger."

"It's also strange that they'd take the risk," Aiden mused. "Am I correct in assuming they work for hire?"

"Of course," Ronan shrugged.

"Then it appears that moneyed interests are behind the assault," Sir Godfrey declared, speaking up for the first time. "This sudden resurgence could only come about if the money made it worthwhile, for they know what the result will be if the guild stays in the city for too long."

"I'm curious if someone has contacted them directly, or if this is simply a matter of someone placing a bounty on Criosa's life and spreading word through the right channels — or wrong, depending on which way you look at it," Ronan remarked.

"It isn't hard to understand their motives," Duke Charles remarked. "With Criosa as the only heir to the throne, all it would take to throw the Kingdom into turmoil is to — heaven forbid — kill her, and even if they were to merely take her hostage, her captors would have free rein to set their terms. This is all wild speculation, ladies and gentlemen. We have theories and precious few facts. I need more information. If the City Watch has indeed been compromised, then I will need people I can trust to help with the investigation. What say you?"

"That's why we're here," Aiden answered with a glance at Criosa.

"Don't you have people better suited to this sort of thing?" Sayana asked timidly.

"Ordinarily, yes," Sir Godfrey replied, "but His Majesty has nearly all of them with him on his campaign in the west."

"Naturally," Aiden grumbled quietly, wishing the King had had the foresight to leave a few competent people behind to actually run his Kingdom.

"The few we have left would be recognisable to our enemies," Sir Godfrey continued. "In order to be successful in this endeavour, we would need fresh faces like yours to go into the dark places of the city."

"Your point is well taken," Aiden replied, "but to be honest, the prospect of tracking down professional assassins in their home territory is a little outside my field of expertise, and I don't think any of us here — save Ronan and possibly Pacian — would be very useful in that regard."

"Yeah... part of me wants to volunteer and another part of me wants to run away," Ronan hedged. "But I think I can help you out with this one."

"Excellent, it sounds like we're moving forward on this already," the duke observed, rubbing his hands together. "I wish to check up on dear Criosa, so I shall leave you all in Sir Godfrey's capable hands. Keep me apprised of your progress, and good hunting to you all."

"Thank you, Your Grace," Sir Godfrey replied, bowing low. Nellise performed a perfect curtsey, and Aiden had the presence of mind to bow as well, and after watching this for a moment, Sayana followed suit.

"You were saying something about being able to help us out, Ronan?" the knight prompted. "Were you referring to something specific or simply general assistance?"

"While I don't know much about the assassin's guild, as such, I know some people who probably would," the sailor confided, letting go of Pacian so that he could stand on his own. "I'll have to see if I can re-establish some old contacts before I find out however, so don't hold your breath."

"We'll take whatever assistance we can get at this point," the knight replied. "To that end, I believe I know someone who might be of use to us. His credentials are impeccable, and he's an old friend of mine so I know we can trust him. I understand you must be tired and in need of food and rest, but if you take your ease at the Fair Maiden Inn, just a few minutes into the city from here, you'll find this man spending his evening at one of the tables. His name is Sir William Bryce-Clifton."

"A knight of the realm?" Aiden remarked. "I would have thought His Majesty would have taken him too, if he was any use."

"He is a man of many years' experience, and would find an extended period of deployment detrimental to his health," Sir Godfrey explained delicately. "Just speak with him, and take your measure of the man in person."

"Very well," Aiden agreed hesitantly. "If we're going to be investigating on behalf of the Crown, we should probably have something to declare our authority, should we need it. A small stipend to cover expensive would be useful, too."

"I'll see to it the duke writes up a signed letter to that effect, and it shall be delivered to you first thing in the morning," the knight said. "I won't keep you from your rest any longer, ladies and gentlemen, so I thank you again for your service thus far, and wish you good fortune in the coming days. I will be doing what I can with my limited resources, so stop in from time to time as you need to. The castle will be under lockdown, so movement will be somewhat restricted for you, even with your royal authority."

"We'll keep that in mind," Aiden replied. "Farewell, Sir Knight."

* * *

They walked through the castle's gate and watched as the drawbridge was raised after their departure, where it slammed into place with a resounding boom. Sir Godfrey hadn't been lying about the castle lockdown, for the number of visible guards on the walls tripled as they watched. Aiden hoped it was enough to keep Criosa safe for the time being, even though their trustworthiness might be questionable. There was nothing Aiden could do about that and for now had to trust that Sir Godfrey and the duke trusted their soldiers.

Criosa's continued welfare was of paramount importance to the Kingdom, and not because of any personal feelings he was experiencing, of course, as that would be unprofessional.

"I'm going to head off and look around for a bit, you know, to get my bearings and talk to some old contacts of mine," Ronan informed them as they walked towards the inn. "I might be able to find a few more reliable people to help us out, because just between you and me, we're completely outmatched by what we're up against."

"So you're certain that it's this 'assassin's guild'?" Nellise asked dourly.

"Very, though don't ask me why," Ronan warned, his breath misting in the cold night air. "It's not their actual name, by the way. We never found out what they called themselves. Anyway, I think the Fair Maiden is a good base to work from, so set up there and I'll be back before dawn with news, hopefully."

"Watch your back," Sayana called to him as he walked off along the snow-covered streets.

"Always do," he replied before disappearing around a corner. Eager to be out of the cold, Aiden opened the heavy wooden door of the inn and stepped inside, welcoming the rush of warm air laced with the aroma of hot food and strong drink.

The Fair Maiden inn was much larger than the Bracksfordshire Arms, and it was nearly full to capacity as the citizens of Fairloch crowded out of the bitterly cold winter. Several fires crackled away in several fireplaces around the room's edge, and musicians strummed their instruments on the far side of the vast common room, barely audible over the din of hundreds of people chatting away with each other. The smell of warm food and good drink was present as the small group made their way through the throng towards one of the few empty tables available along the far wall.

"I'm going to rent a room and take Pacian upstairs to heal and rest," Nellise advised, leaning her head close to Aiden in order to be heard and then hauled Pacian off towards the bar.

"I'm going to order us some food," Aiden advised Sayana, rising to his feet. "Wait here for a few minutes." Pressing through the crowd, he noticed that the clientele at this inn were well-dressed men and women of means, and while their attire wasn't as lavish and expensive as the duke or the Castellan Hodges, the people here were clearly doing well for themselves.

Aiden eventually made it to the bar, where a cheerful, plump girl with a big smile received his order for Aiden's favourite meal, 'whatever you're serving'. Looking up, he saw a huge, gold-framed painting hanging on the wall overlooking the common room, depicting a lovely and curvaceous woman with red hair and fair skin sitting on a plush couch.

She also seemed to have misplaced her clothes. A caption on the bottom of the picture read 'Constance', no doubt the name of the maiden, and most likely where the inn took its name from. Aiden was no artist, but he certainly could appreciate the subject material.

"Lovely, isn't she?" the waitress asked him.

"The painting certainly adds a touch of class to the place," Aiden commented, not knowing what else to say. The wide grin from the girl indicated she liked what he'd said, and a few other things she had an eye on too. He handed over a small handful of copper jacks and made his way back to the table, satisfied that the meal would eventually be brought to them by the enthusiastic girl.

On the way back he noticed Sayana was gripping onto the table with white-knuckled tension, and the look in her eyes reminded Aiden of the first time he had seen her in the wild.

"What's the matter?" he asked as he sat down next to her, watching her chest rise and fall with her rapid breathing.

"Nothing, I'm just really hungry," she replied a little too quickly. "Perhaps I should go and get some fresh air."

"If you need to, sure, but the food is on its way, so perhaps you can just try to relax and enjoy the warmth," he advised with a smile. Sayana let out a slow breath and seemed to calm down, so Aiden leaned back on his chair and waited idly, slowly allowing his mind to sift through all he had experienced over the past few hours.

"How did you create that light?" Sayana asked abruptly a minute or so later.

"Excuse me?"

"After the fight in the alley, you lit up your sword," she clarified.

"I did?" Aiden asked, to himself as much as to her.

"It wasn't the flame that I invoke, either. You did what Nellise does with that prayer, but without any sort of 'incantation', as you might call it."

"I wasn't even aware of it," Aiden admitted, astonished at this revelation as much as she was. "I needed light so I just... sort of made it happen."

"You really are a sorcerer," she remarked, smiling slightly at him. It was the first time she had expressed any sort of positive emotion towards him since their last encounter near the Akoran highlands. It created mixed feelings in Aiden's mind.

"Perhaps I've just been hanging around the right sort of people," he replied, receiving a slight nod of acknowledgement. The short chat suddenly became very awkward, as it was the first time they had been alone together — crowd not withstanding — for some time. The silence started to drag out as neither of them had the courage to speak. Fortunately, their meal arrived shortly thereafter.

Nellise arrived a few minutes later, as Aiden was digging into a platter of sizzling roast chicken and mashed potatoes. She seemed to have acquired a new friend, however, for by her side was an elderly man in fine clothing and long grey hair, receding at the top but bundled into a short tail at the nape of his neck. His heavy mustache was similar to the way many of the upper-class men of Fairloch wore their facial hair and his face was worn and wrinkled with age. His blue eyes sparkled with intelligence and vigour.

"I see I haven't missed out on the food, at least," Nellise observed.

"Not at all, and I bought enough for all of us," Aiden replied after he'd swallowed a mouthful. "Who's this gentleman?"

"Friends, allow me to introduce Sir William Bryce-Clifton. Sir William, this is Aiden Wainwright and Sayana Arai, two very talented people whom the duke has recruited to aid him."

"Any friend of the duke is a friend of mine," Sir William declared in a resounding tenor, proffering his hand. Aiden gave him a firm handshake and gestured to a seat next to Nellise. The elderly gentleman bowed slightly to Sayana before he sat down, while Aiden wondered just how old he was. Although Sir Godfrey had hinted that Sir William had 'experience', it had become clear that he was being polite, for the man before him was well into his sixth decade.

"Well, this is a fortunate encounter," Aiden remarked, keeping his thoughts to himself. "How did you two run into each other?"

"I saw this lovely young woman helping a wounded man through the crowd, so I offered my assistance, as any gentleman would," Sir William explained.

"It was excellent timing on your part, Sir Knight," Nellise thanked him, "as my wounded companion was enjoying my close company a little too much."

"Think nothing of it, dear lady," the knight dismissed. "Clearly, God guided me to your presence at the right place and time, so I have no doubt as to your worthy intentions. Tell me, Mister Wainwright, why is it you were seeking me out?"

"We came from a meeting with the duke a little while ago, and his aide Sir Godfrey mentioned that you were someone we should talk with," Aiden replied, silently taking his measure of the man.

"Ah, Godfrey — splendid chap," the elderly knight stated with a warm smile. "I have not spoken directly with him in quite some time, but I am well pleased that he remembers me."

"I was under the impression you were fast friends," Aiden said hesitantly, glancing at Nellise for a moment.

"In the past, certainly," Sir William clarified. "But he is a talented man and found his services to be in demand in the royal court. Those duties keep him quite busy, whereas I am considered something of a relic, rarely consulted on important matters."

"You sound bitter," Sayana stated rather bluntly.

"Not really, miss," Sir William sighed. "But if His Majesty feels he has no use for me then who am I to disagree? I have sworn to obey him, and that oath binds me to the King's service, even if he never calls upon me."

"So, he just left you here while he's off fighting a war?" Aiden asked respectfully, trying to avoid provoking the old fellow

"Evidently, yes," the knight replied curtly, unable to hide his disappointment. "May I ask why Sir Godfrey sent you to see me?"

"Well, that's what I'm trying to figure out," Aiden answered directly, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "You see, there is a security issue developing, and we need trustworthy people to provide assistance. How can I put this delicately? Your age strikes me as being a little too advanced to really help us in a fight, so I have to wonder what skills you possess."

"If you are referring to my prowess in battle, I can assure you I am no novice," the knight informed him. "I participated in the cull of bandits not ten years ago along the Kingswood highway near my estate, and they haven't resurfaced since. Prior to that, I helped lead an assault against a group of traitorous sewer-dwellers that called themselves 'assassins', though that was long ago. I hesitate to mention it as it wasn't really a battle, more of a common alleyway scuffle, though I am proud to say they haven't returned to the city. But you are being evasive, sir! How can I answer to your satisfaction when you will not discuss the real issue at hand?"

"Can I trust your discretion?" Aiden asked, realising why Sir Godfrey had really sent them to this man. He had been involved with battling the assassins in the past, and that experience would count for something.

"I give you my word of honour I shall not tell another living soul," Sir William said, locking eyes with Aiden.

"There have been several attempts to kidnap the princess over the past week," Aiden began after glancing around to make sure no one was eavesdropping. "My companions and I have been personally involved in thwarting them and frankly, we feel that we're out of our depth. The latest attempt seemed to involve members of this so-called assassin's guild, the very group you mention combating in the past, and this is probably why Sir Godfrey wanted us to meet. That, and our deductions have resulted in the unpleasant truth that we cannot trust the City Watch and we are seeking reliable allies to aid us."

"The assassins have returned?" Sir William bristled, clearly outraged. "Dash and blast it, man, why didn't you mention that right up front? I am at your service, sir!"

"Keep your voice down," Aiden warned, hoping no one had caught that outburst.

"My apologies, I was taken aback by the gravity of your situation," the elderly knight said in a more reasonable tone. "What resources I have are at your disposal, as well as my sword arm, aged though it may be."

"Have you other, less physically demanding talents?" Nellise asked politely.

"I am well acquainted with the city and the surrounding lands, my lady, as well as a passing fair knowledge of the inner workings of the nobility. You say that there may be some members of the aristocracy involved in this devilish plot? I will be more than happy to assist in sleuthing out the blaggards. And I appreciate your concern for my well-being, madam, but I assure you I am fit, healthy and more than ready to step into harm's way," Sir William added, touching the cleric's forearm lightly as he spoke.

"It sounds to me like you'd be of great help to us, Sir William," Aiden stated. "Welcome aboard. You've met Pacian, briefly, and tomorrow you'll meet Ronan, who is helping us out with his own chain of local contacts. Would you care to join us for the rest of the meal, before Sayana finishes it off?" She appeared to be about to lick her plate clean but upon noticing so many eyes turn in her direction, had second thoughts.

"I have already eaten, but thank you for the offer," Sir William replied, standing up. "If I am to be prepared for the morning, I must ride to my estate immediately and gather my equipment. I take it you are staying at the Fair Maiden?"

"Yes, I think it will serve quite nicely in that regard," Aiden said.

"Then I shall meet you here at first light," the knight declared. "Good evening to you Aiden, ladies," he finished, and strode through the crowd towards the front door.

"Pleasant enough chap," Aiden commented mildly, biting down on some crusty bread.

"I think I'll take some of the food and go to my room, if I have one," Sayana said.

"That reminds me," Nellise added, "I hired two rooms — one for Aiden, Pacian and Ronan, and one for myself and Sayana."

"So you've fixed Pacian up okay?" Aiden asked as he mopped up the last of the gravy with a slice of bread.

"No, but I healed his wounds," Nellise replied with a half-smile. That, Aiden thought, was most reassuring. If she could still smile and even make a joke, she wasn't doing too badly at least.

"Alright, I might as well turn in as well. We're going to need all our strength in the coming days, I suspect."

The ladies bid him good night, and headed off through the crowd, leaving him to ponder the weight of the task set before them.

Chapter Six

Several hours passed before Aiden relaxed enough to fall asleep, but for once, his dreams were undisturbed by the terrible things he'd seen nor any strange, dragon-related messages.

Pacian was still sound asleep and Aiden was reluctant to wake him so he crept to the door and opened it slowly. By the dim lantern light streaming in through the gap, he noticed that the extra pallet that had been set up on the floor for Ronan to sleep on was still empty. Aiden's mind was still too clogged with sleep to think on this, so he resolved to ask around to see if the sailor had been seen during the night.

Walking downstairs, Aiden noticed the common room of the inn was almost deserted at this hour, with most patrons apparently preferring to wait until at least dawn before rising. Still, the staff of the Fair Maiden were already preparing for the morning service, stoking the fireplaces and wiping down the benches as the aroma of hot food wafted through the establishment.

So it was with some measure of surprise that Aiden saw a man sitting at a table just ahead of him, dressed in practical black clothing and gesturing for him to sit down in the chair opposite. Curious, Aiden walked forward to see what he wanted, all the while wondering if this was some sort of trap from their enemies.

"Be at ease, Mister Wainwright, I'm not going to bite," the man informed him dryly.

"Well, you never can tell these days," Aiden replied mildly. The mysterious stranger was of olive complexion with weathered features, had neatly combed grey-streaked hair and brown eyes that seemed to take in everything around them. Despite his relaxed appearance, a certain tension could be seen in his posture, as if he was prepared to leap into action at a moment's notice.

"You are right to be cautious, though my patience is limited, Aiden," he explained, his manner completely professional. "If you would be so kind as to sit down, we can proceed."

"I'm guessing you work for the Crown," Aiden surmised, doing as he was bid, and received a slight nod in response. "I'm sure you have some kind of proof of that." The mystery man reached into his tunic and withdrew a pendant hanging around his neck. It was a silver disc with the dragon of Aielund etched upon it, the same that appeared on Aielund's flag.

What do I call you?"

"I am referred to as Mister Kinsey, though that is not my real name," the man confided. "I am primarily here as a liaison, but I am also charged with keeping an eye on your progress as the investigation develops."

"Does the duke not have full confidence in our abilities?"

"He does not," Kinsey replied bluntly. "His Grace cares a great deal about Princess Criosa however, and he values her opinions. You must understand that you are from a small country town, new to the city and little more than a youth, if I may be completely honest. Your experience at hunting those who do not wish to be found — experts in blending into an urban environment, if you will — is somewhat lacking."

"Is the princess well?" Aiden asked, eager for news of her condition.

"Though I have not seen her directly I am assured that the poison has been cured, and she is resting comfortably," Kinsey assured him.

"I'm pleased to hear that," Aiden said, hiding his relief. "So, you're offering to help?"

"I am His Majesty's spymaster, though I find myself bereft of competent staff at this time," Kinsey answered. "Ordinarily, you would be working directly under my aegis in these conditions, but Her Highness has vouched for your capabilities, so I am content to merely keep an eye on you and your associates."

"I find your faith in me refreshing," Aiden remarked with mild surprise.

"I am not here to bandy words with you, Mister Wainwright," Kinsey stated flatly. "Prove your worth and you may gain my respect. Be it known, however limited my capabilities at this time, that I am doing my utmost to uncover this plot and I intend to keep you up to date on any developments on my part. Now, here is an official document bearing the duke's seal that will provide you with some measure of authority.

"Should it prove insufficient, bring this to the attention of Sir Godfrey and he will inform me. I will then do what I can to aid you should the situation warrant." Kinsey handed over the short note and Aiden placed the document into a pocket in his longcoat after a brief examination.

"Your lodgings have been paid for by the Crown," the spymaster continued, "and I have opened an expense account under your name to cover any additional costs you may accrue. Simply go to the royal bank on Oak Street and withdraw what you need. These funds have been provided to you despite our extremely challenging financial situation, so do not squander them."

"I understand and thank you for the trust, however limited it is," Aiden replied soberly.

"Finally, the individual you are most likely searching for is known as Holister, sometimes rather pretentiously known as Holister Swiftblade, who led this band of killers the last time they showed up in the city and was never caught. We don't even have witnesses as to the identity and appearing of Holister so we don't have much to go on. Experience tells me that men and women of poor character tend to congregate — birds of a feather, flock together, as it were — so you might want to ask Ronan about the location of his old associates, colloquially referred to as 'the thieves' guild'."

"If he can learn anything about the possible return of Holister, you may be able to track down their current location," Kinsey finished. Aiden made a mental note to remember all of this information, and then pondered a question that the king's agent might take offence to.

"You seem to be very intelligent Mister Kinsey, and certainly you're young enough to still be in active service, so I'm wondering — and please don't take this the wrong way — why didn't the king take you with him?"

"I have already done my service in the name of King and Country, Mister Wainwright, and have paid the price for doing so," Kinsey replied grimly, awkwardly standing up and leaning heavily on a cane. "Go about your task with utmost discretion, Aiden, and remember that time is short. Even now forces are moving against us, and we have precious little information as to their plans. Good day." With that, Kinsey limped towards the door.

It was a sobering thought, that even in this day and age where clerical healing was available some injuries could not be healed. Once again, Aiden considered himself extremely lucky to have Nellise along to help them, and briefly thought of what would have happened were it not for her talents.

Before long, Aiden was joined at the table by the rest of his companions, with Pacian appearing to have made a full recovery from his grievous injury. More than once Aiden caught him glancing fondly at Nellise when she wasn't looking, and Aiden sighed inwardly as to the fruitlessness of his friend's pursuit.

As they ate, other guests came down and ate their first meal of the day, until the inn was bustling with activity and light chatter. Aiden took the time to explain his meeting with Kinsey, and the funds they had at their disposal for equipment and lodging. Nellise asked about Criosa's health, but all Aiden could tell her was what he had learned, in that she was resting well. Further news would have to wait.

As they were finishing off some hot buttered toast, Ronan came through the front door of the inn, his longcoat covered in dirt and his boots leaving a trail of mud as he strode towards the table.

"Okay, so, it turns out that some of my old contacts don't like me very much anymore," the sailor grumbled as he sat down, looking thoroughly dishevelled from what must have been a long night.

"Are you alright?" Nellise asked, somewhat taken aback by his appearance.

"Yeah I'm fine, although I could probably use a bath and a meal," Ronan shrugged. "Anyway, things didn't go as I planned last night, but I did manage to find a couple of people who might be able to help us out. I've told them to come here so you can meet them, and I expect they'll be arriving shortly."

"I hope they're acquainted with the city more than we are," Sayana mentioned as she wolfed down an extra helping of stew.

"Actually, they're not local," Ronan replied hesitantly. "I had hoped to locate some old 'friends' who would be of use tracking down a hidden group of killers, but they're not really talking to me anymore. So, as far as figuring this whole thing out goes, it's up to us." He reached over and wiped his hands on a napkin, then grabbed a hunk of bread and tore into it.

"So these people you found, what exactly do they do?" Pacian asked suspiciously.

"Well," Ronan answered between mouthfuls of bread, "One of them is a warrior from the southern mountains, you know, those Akoran tribal folks?" Nellise's expressen froze and she turned pale as Ronan kept talking. Aiden wasn't sure that Nellise would stay in the group if an Akoran joined, not after their failed raid on the Akoran camp a couple of weeks ago. "She's made quite a reputation for herself in the past week, and well, I think we're lacking some fighting strength."

"'She'?" Nellise asked, raising an eyebrow in surprise.

"Yep, and she's pretty impressive, if you ask me," Ronan said with a wink. "You'll see what I mean when she gets here."

"And our other prospective ally?" Aiden asked, keeping an eye on Nellise all the while.

"She's a druid," Ronan answered, and received incredulous looks from all around the table.

"A druid," Pacian smirked. "In the city. A druid, of all people. Are you sure you couldn't find anyone less useful?"

"I know, not exactly what you were expecting," Ronan continued, ticking off fingers as he spoke. "Trying to find someone willing to help us was harder than you might expect. Couldn't ask any of the City Watch, all the caravan guards have been hired by the king for his army, local wizards are all affiliated with the University and are forbidden to hire themselves out at any price, my underworld contacts apparently want me dead and my fellow sailors on the Redoubtable are busy repairing the ship. These two women are from outside the city, having only arrived here in the last week, and so they've got no ties to any local factions."

"I know what you're saying, but she's not what I was expecting," Ronan added. "She can do all sorts of prayers apparently, not unlike Nellise here, but she's also got a keen mind, if I'm any judge. Just meet with her before you make up your mind, that's all."

"I won't make any promises," Nellise warned. "My prior dealings with so-called 'nature priests' have been less than pleasant. And what she does isn't connected with myself or my faith at all, just to be clear."

"Beggars can't be choosers," Ronan advised her with a wink. Nellise merely shrugged and continued eating, while Aiden spotted Sir William moving through the crowd to their table. His appearance was substantially different to last night, having discarded his regular attire in favour of steel armour engraved with what Aiden guessed was his personal standard, a majestic eagle with something indistinct grasped in its talons.

Worn gold trim weaved its way around the edges, and the entire ensemble appeared to be quite old. The sword hanging from his belt and shield strapped to his back gave him the appearance of a proper knight, which had been lacking the night before, and the effect was startling.

"Bracing weather this morning," he grumbled, dusting snow off his shoulders and taking the last remaining seat at the table offered by Nellise.

"Sir William, nice to see you properly caparisoned for action," Aiden greeted him respectfully. "This is Ronan, whom you haven't met, and we're soon to meet two other potential allies as well."

"It's a pleasure to meet you both," Sir William offered in his sonorous tenor, shaking hands with each of them. "You look as though you've been running through the sewers all night, Ronan. I would have thought you'd have the good grace to clean yourself up before sitting at the table with women of quality."

"Yeah I should go do that, and probably get some sleep, too" Ronan sighed. "I just wanted to make sure the ladies knew who to talk to when they get here."

"Just tell us what they look like and we'll take it from there," Pacian shrugged.

"Okay," Ronan agreed, standing up and wiping his hands on his filthy coat. "The Akoran woman's name is Valennia, and she's about six feet tall so you probably won't miss her. The druid you're all so keen to meet goes by the name Margaret and though you might have trouble finding her, you'll recognise her easily enough since she's a little raelani lass and tops out at just over three feet. Bye now."

"Wait, what?" Aiden blurted as Ronan disappeared off into the morning crowd. Pacian chuckled at the sailor's laconic sense of humour, leaving the last little detail until he was safely out of questioning range.

"We shouldn't be judging her by her race or height," Nellise mentioned casually. "Her religion, on the other hand..."

"What's a raelani?" Sayana asked, somewhat puzzled.

"You've seen those half-sized people walking around the city, right?" Pacian said. "One of those."

"I thought they were children," the sorceress wondered.

"Only at a glance, but if you get a close look, you can see they're fully grown adults," Pacian explained. "The bearded ones are a dead giveaway."

"Let's see what these people have to say for themselves," Aiden said. "We're not so overwhelmed with allies that we can be afford to be picky." Hearing no dissension, he finished off his breakfast while keeping an eye out for the two ladies, and soon spotted the tall Akoran woman striding in through the door.

Ronan's estimate was pretty accurate — Aiden judged her to be just a shade over six feet in height, and even had she been shorter her attire would have set her apart from all the other patrons. A combination of cured leathers and heavy animal skins adorned her impressive frame, and the handle of a large weapon secured on her back could be seen over her shoulder.

Her face was quite striking and her raven-black hair swept over her shoulder, flowing halfway way down to her waist. Her eyes were dark brown like most of her people, and a certain hardness was set into her jaw line, giving her the look of someone used to struggling daily for survival. Aiden caught her attention and waved her over to their table, watching with some amusement the reaction of the ladies and gentlemen of means at her passing. If Valennia noticed their raised eyebrows and whispered words, she paid them no heed.

"You are the ones Ronan suggested I meet, yes?" she stated, standing at the edge of the table and looking down upon them as if ready to strike them dead at a moment's notice. Her voice wasn't as deep as Aiden thought it would be, but it was harsh and throaty as if from shouting a lot.

"Yes, we've been awaiting your arrival," Aiden replied, taking in her appearance. "We don't seem to have any spare seats at the moment..." Sir William instantly stood up and appeared to be offering his seat to the Akoran woman.

"Please tell your elderly servant that I do not wish him to strain himself unduly by fetching another chair," she told Aiden with no hint of sarcasm in her voice. Sir William appeared to choke on his own tongue while Valennia reached over and took an empty seat from a nearby table.

"I am no servant, Madam," Sir William informed her diplomatically, his face turning red as he sat down in his chair once more. Aiden interrupted any further comments from the Valennia by introducing himself and the others, before getting to the important part of the conversation.

"My name is Aiden. Ronan tells me you're interested in providing some assistance," he began, reluctant to mention any part of the real reason behind their need for allies. "To be honest, we could use a strong warrior like you."

"This does not surprise me, Aiden, since your group appears to consist of mere girls and unbearded young men, protected only by a feeble old man in worn-out armour."

"Yes... yes," Aiden agreed hesitantly, cautiously watching Sir William from out of the corner of his eye. "And that's why we need you. What we don't need is someone looking to start fights just to appease their boredom."

"When I fight, it is because the situation demands it," she responded harshly. "The pathetic dregs in this place hardly qualify as worthy opponents. I listened to Ronan and came here at his request, for I was growing tired of the drunken men in the last ale house trying to seduce me. If you plan to test my resolve, I will walk away right now."

"Those are some brave, brave men," Pacian murmured under his breath, receiving a nudge to his ribs from Nellise for his trouble.

"If you're looking for work, we can cover your expenses," Aiden continued.

"I do require coin to keep my belly full, and the hunting in this 'city' is terrible. How can anyone live on those tiny beasts that scamper around the back streets?"

"...Do you mean rats?" Pacian asked.

"Yes, that is what someone called them."

"Right, I just wanted to make sure," he said, nodding to himself. "Aiden, could I have a word?"

"I'll be just a minute," Aiden told Valennia, stepping away from the table to confer with Pacian. "What is it?"

"This woman is clearly some sort of idiot," he whispered loudly enough to be heard over the clamour of the inn's patrons. "Who the hell goes hunting rats like they were wild boar?"

"She's not from around here, so there's probably some cultural issues getting in the way," Aiden suggested. "Yes, I'm giving her the benefit of the doubt, but still, she looks like she knows how to swing that... whatever it is. Axe? I didn't get a good look. Anyway, if she can fight and follow orders, that's all we need. We just point her towards whoever needs killing and off she goes."

"If she's anything like her kindred down in the mountains, she'll be good at that," Pacian conceded.

"Okay, I think that's settled," Aiden finished, turning around to sit back at the table again. With a glance he saw that Sir William was barely keeping his opinions in check, Nellise had a cold, hunted expression marring her features, and Sayana looked like she wanted to run and hide.

"I'm sorry for the interruption," Aiden apologised. "Before we go on, I wanted to know what brought you all the way north to Fairloch. Akorans are not commonly seen here, which is to say, you're the first that I've encountered in my brief time here."

"We are usually not welcomed outside of our own borders," she informed them soberly. "I am here because my father, chief of the tribe, was overthrown by a brutal man and I was forced to choose between exile and death. Soon, when the time is right, I will return and have my vengeance upon him, and return my father to his rightful place as chief of the Akora."

"Wait, your father is Morik Far-Eagle?" Aiden asked, incredulous.

"Yes. I am Valennia, Daughter of Morik Far-Eagle, slayer of the great white bear," she announced loudly as if daring some deity of her choice to strike her down for saying so. "You know of my father?"

"Yes we freed him from captivity recently and returned him to his rightful place as chief of the Akora," Aiden explained. "At least, I think he is. We haven't heard anything from that area since we left." He looked at the others with a raised eyebrow. Morik was thought of as an honourable man and even if his daughter wasn't as intelligent, she must have inherited some of her father's other traits.

"If you are telling me the truth, then I thank you," she said, her eyes narrowing in scrutiny of Aiden. "When I return home, I shall meet him and exchange tales of valour. I misjudged you before, Aiden. You are not a mere boy, but a man who has seen battle and taken no joy from it." He was disturbed by this accurate impression, and was reminded of how his father had reacted when they had last met. Aiden wondered how many other people could see this change in him.

"I hope you like what you're seeing," he said evenly, unflinching from her appraisal.

"You are not a cruel man, and by that measure, you are worthy to stand alongside me in battle," she finished, speaking as if a decision had been made. "Provided, of course, that you pay me one silver noble every day."

"I can cover that," Aiden agreed.

"You're going to hire this woman?" Sir William finally blurted out.

"Do you have an objection to working alongside women?" Nellise asked the elderly knight pointedly.

"Working and fighting on the front lines are two very different concepts, madam," he replied. "In years past it was unheard of for a woman to fight alongside men, but times are changing. Before you say it, yes, I'm stuck in my old ways a little too much, perhaps, yet there is more than the issue of prejudices against the fairer sex at stake here."

"Explain yourself, old man," Valennia ordered, not backing down even a little.

"I question the need to have the inferior morals of this woman, little more than a savage, in our ranks. We are working to preserve our civilisation and our way of life, two things I have no doubt you have little concept of, madam."

"Do not call me that word," she warned the knight. "I have seen the women in this city who answer to that description and I am not one of them."

"Precisely my point," Sir William said as he smoothed his moustache. "It is one thing to look for people outside the city, but to trust a member of another nation — for Akora is exactly that — is foolish."

"Sir William, you have only just joined us, so I'll grant you some leeway here," Aiden began, folding his fingers together. "Sayana here would fit that description as well, and yet we trust her implicitly. The very thing you accuse Val of is one of her virtues in this instance, because she has no ties to the political whims of this city and its nobility. Finally, we know her father, a man of honour and moral fibre, so if this young woman is anything like him then I trust her well enough to bring her in on this."

"Allow me to clarify," Sir William restated, looking directly at Val. "I am not questioning your honour. I am simply stating that your approach to our delicate situation would appear to be somewhat... primitive."

"Then you have much yet to learn, old man," Val growled defiantly. "Permit me to fight alongside you, Aiden, and I will show this relic my true nature."

"In spite of Sir William's position," Aiden responded, "I think I speak for the others when I say that your heritage speaks louder than you do, and as such, you're welcome to join."

"I hope you know what you're doing," Sir William finished, earning a black look from the Akoran warrior. Aiden would have to keep an eye on those two, in case it came to blows. If he had to put money down on the fight, he'd bet everything he had on Valennia and then use the proceeds to pay for Sir William's funeral.

"Pardon me," came a small woman's voice from nearby. "I'm looking for a man named Ronan Woulfe, have you seen him? He's about five-ten, longish hair held back by a bandana, covered in mud..." Aiden looked around but couldn't see who was speaking.

"Over here," Sayana called, gaining the attention of whoever had spoken. A moment later, a small head appeared, only a few inches above the edge of the table.

"You know Ronan?" she asked Sayana.

"Yes, and we have been expecting you," the sorceress replied.

"Ah, you must be Sayana. He mentioned you in great detail," she added with a wink, causing Sayana to blush and Aiden to have oddly conflicting feelings well up inside. "I'm Margaret Fairweather, but most people just call me Maggie."

"Nice to meet you, Maggie," Aiden replied. Before he could say more, Sir William once more stood and offered his chair to the newcomer, which was met with a smile and a "thank you" from the little woman. The knight glanced ever so briefly at Valennia in victory, but she did not seem to react. Maggie climbed onto the chair and was finally able to see them all at face-height, though she had to stand up in order to achieve this.

Her hair was a sort of reddish-auburn with a few grey streaks near her temples and held back in a long tail by a small piece of cloth. She looked around with large green eyes at everyone present, and her face had a pleasant appearance that was somewhat odd to see at half human scale, as if she had been shrunk by some sort of magic.

She wore a cured leather breastplate beneath a long forest green robe, cinched at the waist with a series of belts. Attached to it were numerous pouches and a dagger, which for her would be like using a short sword. A thick cloak covered her back and shoulders.

"Well then, you're the group that Ronan said was interested in helping me out," Maggie began. "Tell me, are you experienced mercenaries, or just starting out?"

"I think there's been a misunderstanding here, Maggie," Aiden replied hesitantly. "We were looking for people to help us, not the other way around."

"Oh," she replied, crestfallen. "So, you're not mercenaries then?"

"Some of us are," Nellise informed her, pointedly not looking at Pacian. "But for the most part, we're working for the betterment of humanity in general, and that includes people that aren't human, of course. So, we're informed that you are a druid?"

"Yes, of the Feybourne sect, though somewhat removed from them now for reasons you'll probably hear about shortly."

"What do you mean?" Aiden asked, confused by that statement.

"You're probably aware of this," Maggie began, sitting down on the chair with her legs folded under her, "but druids aren't exactly looked upon favourably by the Church of Aielund."

"I've heard a few things about that," Nellise answered, hinting at a longer history between the two faiths.

"There are two dozen members of my order, the largest remaining group on the east coast of Feydwiir. For the past twenty years, there have been certain individuals who have spoken out against the encroachment of civilisation into the ancient forests, as well as persecution from the Church for practicing a 'pagan religion'."

"They must feel like they're under attack," Sayana remarked, glancing at Nellise.

"They do," Maggie agreed.

"I have never heard of any crusades against the druidic order," Nellise pointed out. "Certainly, there has never been any blood spilled between the two."

"Yes, but constantly being told you're following the wrong faith does get on one's nerves after a long time," Maggie responded. "Just the fact you've never heard of forced conversions of other faiths to the Church of Aielund says to me that they kept such information secret. You may think your religion is all goodness and light but there's a darker side they've kept from you, mark my words.

All of this has fuelled the flames of anger in our sect, so the hotheads in our sect deposed our arch druid and started making plans against the Kingdom. I did what I could to reason with them, but I was the only voice of restraint and so in the end, they turned upon me. I spent three days on the run through the forests and swamps fighting for my life before I made it beyond their reach."

"Are they all raelish?" Sir William inquired.

"No, they're mostly human," Maggie replied, "and I certainly didn't join up to start a revolution against the Kingdom."

"Are you saying these men and women are taking up arms against us?" Sir William pressed.

"Quite so," Maggie confirmed. "They've fortified the forest around the lost city of Feybourne, and are planning to expand their area of control to include Amalis. They've even threatened to destroy the city in order to return it to its natural state, much like what happened with the city of Feybourne, before the collapse."

"How do you lose a city?" Sayana asked, a fair question but one that had Pacian smirking at her.

"I recall reading something about that in a book last year," Aiden said. "Feybourne was one of the earliest cities constructed in Aielund until it was struck by an earthquake, eighty years ago."

"It was more than that," Maggie added. "The ground is quite swampy down in that region, and when the quake struck, it opened a crevasse and the city sank. Thousands were killed, and the place was abandoned in favour of the sturdier ground a little further north."

"I'm astonished a city like this could be destroyed so quickly," Sayana remarked in awe.

"Never underestimate the power of nature," Maggie warned, though with a softness to her voice.

"Though you spoke of only two dozen members of this order, I take it they have formidable abilities which go beyond their limited numbers?" Sir William inquired, getting back onto the subject at hand.

"Yes, although I've no idea if they're capable of doing what they claim," Maggie said. "No druid I have ever heard of, alone or in a group, has tried to destroy a city before. Recreating a natural event like that earthquake would be beyond anyone in my sect, of that I'm certain."

"There's a first time for everything," Nellise remarked grimly. "Have you brought this to the attention of the Lord of Amalis?"

"Yes, but he was an old man and was in poor health when I spoke with him last week. He mentioned that he was in a dialog with their representative — probably a man named Bowen, a highly influential member of the sect — but that was about all. Given the weakness of the city garrison at this time, I don't expect my brothers and sisters to be in much of a talking mood."

"I know our task is somewhat more local," Sir William said, "but if the Duke of Amalis needs more support, we should give serious consideration to providing this lady with our services."

"I agree, though our primary concern must be to our investigation here, first" Nellise observed.

"I'm not sure what you're talking about," Maggie interjected, "but if you're willing to help me, I am willing to help you. We have some time before I believe something more 'explosive' could take place in Feybourne, so if I can be of service..."

Aiden nodded, content to listen to everything that was being said while he pondered the ramifications of dealing with something this large outside their purview. Margaret seemed to be even-tempered and willing to be reasonable, and it might serve their cause to bring stability to the region. There was one pressing issue however, that needed to be resolved.

"I understand your predicament, but I have to ask — what exactly are you capable of in a city?" Aiden inquired. Maggie gave him an odd look, and then it dawned on her as to what he was referring to.

"You seem to be under the misconception that I need to be in the wilds to have my prayers answered, and I assure you all, that is not the case," she said. "There is much I can do to support you, should the need arise, although I will admit I'm not quite as powerful as I would be outside the city gates."

"Why?" Sayana asked.

"The power I channel is derived from life," Maggie cheerfully explained. "Cities may be full of people, but the buildings are stone, rock and dead trees. In a place like the swamps, there is so much more life, it radiates around us and I can tap into that more easily."

"Well, so long as you know how to handle yourself, I'm fine with bringing you on board, so to speak," Aiden finished, impressed with her so far.

"I thought you were looking for strong warriors, not even tinier women," Valennia observed stridently.

"Well, we already have you, so more warriors would be redundant, right?" Pacian replied without the hint of a smile on his face. Valennia appeared to process that statement for a long moment before answering.

"Yes, I am more than a match for any foe you might meet," she agreed. "You will need to stand clear of me though, so I can do my work without fear of stepping on someone."

"I think she means you," Pacian said in a loud whisper to Maggie, who laughed briefly.

"Alright, I accept, on the condition that you tell me what exactly you need me for," the diminutive druid answered. Aiden spent the next few minutes outlining their task, and showed all of them the letter of commission with the duke's seal upon it. Maggie seemed adequately impressed, and showed no objection despite the problems her Order seemed to have with the Crown.

"If all of you are ready to move, I think we should get to work," Aiden declared after they had finalised the deal. He tossed a silver noble to Valennia's outstretched hand, which seemed to buy her quiet assent. "I want to talk to Ronan about a few of his old contacts, but it can wait until he's had time to rest."

"For now, the damage done to the main street needs to be looked at a little more closely, since I'm almost certain that it was done to divert us into that narrow alleyway. Our first stop is the University of the Arcane to speak with the Archmage and see if he can give us any insights into who may be involved."

"Oh, that reminds me," Nellise said. "You and Sayana have certain talents the University would be very interested in, and not necessarily for good reasons. I suggest you refrain from any sorcery while you're here, just to avoid complications."

"Of course," Aiden assured her. "I doubt we'll be in need of burning the place to the ground so it shouldn't be a problem. When we get the chance, I'd like to know what all of that is about."

"I promise," Nellise replied. There was nothing further from anyone else, so the group stood up from the table and made their way to the exit.

Chapter Seven

A heavy snowfall clogged the streets to the point local citizens couldn't move about with ease. Only those who absolutely had to be out at this early hour could be seen, clothed in warm winter cloaks and coats, trudging through the streets without enthusiasm. Aiden and his contingent, unfortunately, were amongst those forced to brave the freezing conditions, huddling down in their clothing to keep the chill at bay.

It was Aiden's first look at the city under the light of day, and he was even more impressed with the scale of Fairloch than he had been the previous evening. Most of the buildings in this part of the city were two or even three storeys high, made from stone bricks, giving the city a grey, monolithic look.

They crossed the main street and noticed barricades had been erected to divert people around the damaged ground while workmen cleaned up the mess. Within a few minutes of leaving the inn, Aiden and the others had made their way through to the University.

Three soaring towers dominated the skyline, one of them white and graced with tapering spires that gave one the impression that it was reaching to the heavens with graceful fingers. The other two towers were the same grey stone as the rest of the city, but decorated with colourful banners bearing symbols of various noble houses.

As they approached the gates, it became apparent that the white, vaulted building was in fact a grand cathedral. Judging by its size, it was most likely the place where the head of the Church of Aielund — the 'Archieros' in Olde Aielish — saw to the governance of the faith. Aiden hadn't realised the cathedral was built right next to the University — indeed, the cathedral and the towers were built within the same walls, suggesting a connection he never anticipated.

Of the two towers, one of them was clearly prominent, the exterior being heavily adorned and several storeys higher. The other tower seemed to be older, smaller in all dimensions and far less extravagant.

Stepping through the large, gilded gates onto the University grounds was a bittersweet moment for Aiden, for this was a place he had longed to visit ever since his original encounter in the cave near his home town of Coldstream.

His parents hadn't been able to afford the exorbitant fees required to enrol him here, even if they had believed his story about the vision. If any place possessed the knowledge to decipher the mysteries he had encountered in that cave, it was here, and although he hadn't said anything to the others, this was an exciting moment in his life.

The central yard of the university was decorated with tdy little gardens that were mostly snowed over at this time of year. It was almost deserted, except for a few robed men and women carrying large books to and from the towers. Aiden turned to Nellise with the intention of asking about their proximity to the cathedral, until he noticed she seemed pensive.

"What is it?" he asked of her.

"I am expected to report in upon my arrival in Fairloch," she explained, her golden eyes filled with trepidation. "They are likely to notice that something is amiss with me, which will require an explanation I'm not inclined to give."

"You've nothing to apologise for," Sayana told her directly.

"I don't intend to do so, but there will be consequences for my choice to take up arms," Nellise continued, looking up at the magnificent doors of the cathedral in consternation. "I might as well get this over with."

"Though I do not pretend to understand the reasons of which you speak, my lady," Sir William said, "you have nothing to fear from the Church. Through those doors lies not judgement, but healing and forgiveness. This is your first time in the Cathedral, yes?"

"I have been here several times over the years, though this will be my first as an indoctrinated member of the clergy," Nellise clarified.

"Permit me to accompany you, then," the knight offered. "I have been lax in my attendance of late, and I would benefit from a visit. I can introduce you to one of the patriarchs — Corvyn, an old friend of mine."

"I'm quite alright to go on my own, but... I suppose if you're going anyway," Nellise replied reluctantly.

"It's no trouble, I assure you," Sir William offered.

"Very well," she finally relented. "I regret having to leave you for a while Aiden, but I think you'll manage in our absence."

"I know where to find you if Pacian gets stabbed again," Aiden drawled, drawing a rueful grin from the young cleric.

"Don't forget what I said earlier," she said under her breath as she walked up the stone stairs with Sir William by her side.

"What was that?" Pacian hissed as Aiden and his remaining companions moved on towards the larger of the two towers.

"Something about perhaps needing some sort of registration to use magic openly in the city?"

"Not that," Pacian pressed. "The old bugger offering to 'walk her in' like that."

"Sir William?" Aiden asked in surprise. "He seems to be a very traditional sort of knight, so I wouldn't read too much into it. Chivalry and what-not, I suppose."

"He was showing her a lot of attention last night too, and you can't tell me he was just being nice," Pacian continued.

"You're right, I'm sure he has a diabolical plan to get inside the blouse of a girl young enough to be his granddaughter," Aiden said with a straight face.

"You think so?" Pacian asked, clearly missing the subtle sarcasm in Aiden's statement.

"Of course not. Sir William is nothing if not chivalrous, so do yourself a favour and just stop thinking about it." Pacian lapsed into a brooding silence. Aiden thought nothing more of it as they opened the large double doors into the main tower, and stepped into the vaunted Halls of Knowledge.

The short entry corridor opened into a large, circular chamber with chiselled stone columns around the periphery, and a metal statue of a warrior standing prominently in the centre of the chamber. Many robed students were walking to and fro as they went about their studies.

It was familiar to Aiden, who had not only read about such devices, but seen them in his dream vision of the Battle of Fort Highmarch. This 'golem' was a much smaller version and far less imposing, but nonetheless was of a similar design.

"It is a metal man," Valennia declared after a moment's observation. "Someone has made an effigy to decorate the hall of this place."

"It's more than just a statue though," Sayana breathed, looking at it with fascination. "It's practically glowing with power."

"I can't see anything glowing," Valennia countered. "It would appear your eyes are playing tricks on you."

"You just have to be able to see the right way," Sayana stated somewhat cryptically, unwilling to waste more time on the conversation. Aiden focused his vision and, in a moment, he was able to see what she described — a halo of shifting green energy surrounding the construct.

"What is it supposed to do?" Maggie asked.

"I think it's a guard," Aiden surmised, peering at it closely. Nearby, he heard the sounds of stifled laughter and saw that he and the others were apparently a source of amusement for the students.

"Why do they laugh at us?" Valennia asked, looking at the students across the hall.

"We probably look like a bunch of ignorant tourists, gawking at their metal man," Pacian growled. Valennia levelled an intimidating glare at their audience and the laughter quickly silenced. As they were beginning to disperse, Aiden suddenly had an idea.

"Wait a moment, I need to speak with you," he said to the closest students. A young man with dark hair and regal features, a girl with brown hair and large, inquisitive eyes looked at him curiously. Both were clutching large books and seemed to be in a hurry.

"We're late for class, so if you'll excuse us," the young man said while walking briskly through the hall.

"Don't mind my friend here, she's being paid to be menacing," Aiden continued dismissively. "I just have a few questions for you regarding the explosion on the road over near Foundation Circle." This statement caused both students to stop and look at him in a new light.

"What sort of questions?" asked the young lady.

"Well, to start with, do you know who did it?"

"I wouldn't know anything about that," she replied with a nervous laugh,

"Okay... what would possibly cause such an explosion," he continued. "Could it have been an incantation, or some sort of device?"

"If it was an incantation, only one of the faculty would be capable of using it," the male student explained. "You should probably go and talk to one of the teachers, Dean Desmond Foster, on the fourth floor. He's usually dabbling with things that should be best left alone."

"Thanks, I'll go and speak with him immedi—" Aiden's voice trailed off as a memory flashed through his mind. The name "Desmond" was mentioned by the dragon Salinder, during their time together on the aetheral plane. Salinder instructed Aiden to seek him out, but in the flurry of events afterward, he'd forgotten all about it until now. The two students looked at him oddly and then scurried off to continue their studies.

"Smooth," Pacian offered as a wry compliment as he watched the two students depart. "I liked the part where you stopped talking mid-sentence. You didn't start drooling, did you?"

"Shut up, Pace," Aiden murmured, his thoughts elsewhere.

"You look like you've had a revelation," Sayana observed. "What is it?"

"We need to speak to Desmond, I think he has something important for me — us," he said, quickly recovering. He led them across the hall to the stairwell before any questions could be asked. A small sign in front of it read — "Practical applications" going down, and "Classrooms, Library, Artefacts" and "Faculty" going up.

The fourth floor, as the student had informed him, was where Desmond was to be found, in the section labelled 'Artefacts'. This piqued Aiden's interest in more ways than one. Taking the stairs upward, he passed two floors crowded with people either studying or researching.

"Why do you people make such difficult stairs," Maggie muttered as the raelani woman struggled to keep up.

"I guess they don't have a lot of raelani coming to visit," Aiden remarked. He offered his hand to assist her, which she gratefully accepted. Presently, they arrived at the door to the artefacts section labelled with a sign with "Do Not Disturb!" written upon it. Aiden rapped on the metal-bound door.

It silently swung open, revealing a dimly lit room with shadows cast by large, objects sitting against the wall. The door seemed to have opened by magic, which in any other building might have been strange.

Stepping inside, Aiden peered through the dimness and saw a tall man in dark robes standing in front of a large, round bench on the other side of the chamber. Spread before him were countless oddly-shaped metal pieces, along with small metal tools arranged on the table.

"Just put it on the desk near the door, Sidney," he called without turning from his work. "And tell Harold I'll get to it when I've figured out this nonsense."

"Pardon me, are you by any chance Desmond?" Aiden asked, his voice echoing across the open space. The robed man turned and levelled a stare at the small group before putting down his tools and advancing on them.

"That's 'Dean Foster' to you, sir. This area is off-limits to non-university staff or faculty, barring a dispensation from myself or the Arch-Chancellor," he intoned with impressive volume.

"What about a representative of the Crown?" Aiden countered, pulling out the letter.

"Let me see that," Desmond grumbled, seizing the piece of paper and squinting at it. Brown eyes looked out from under a brow bristling with white hair, and a long white beard tapered down the front of his robe, which upon closer inspection, appeared to be stained with dirt. He was very tall, thin, and what little of his face could be seen was wrinkled with age.

"The duke's seal is upon it, in case you doubt its veracity," Aiden prompted, receiving a condescending glance from the wizened old man.

"This appears to be legitimate," he said in a more reasonable voice, handing back the letter. "What the duke is thinking handing out that sort of authority to a strange group of people such as yourselves is beyond me. Well then, have out with it man — I've ten hours of work to do in a span of five."

"We're investigating the explosion that occurred out on Renown Street yesterday evening, right off Foundation Circle," Aiden explained. "I've been informed that you're the man to talk to about the sorts of things that might cause that to happen."

"Do you suspect my involvement?" Desmond shot back.

"You tell us," Pacian pressed in an ominous tone.

"Outrageous! I will not stand here and listen to these baseless allegations."

"No one is being accused of anything at this time," Maggie interjected. "But you seem to be an experienced practitioner of magic so you could explain 'how', if not 'who'."

"Is that a remark about my age?" Desmond bristled. "For shame, madam."

"I— what?" Maggie stammered, caught off guard by the surly remark.

"I shall ignore that, out of respect for the duke," Desmond said dismissively. "And yes, I do work with volatile magics on a regular basis, but it is all contained within this reinforced chamber. Nothing I've been working with would be able to escape and wreak havoc within the city. Indeed, if something were to break through the protective wards on this room — which is impossible, of course — but were that to happen, the tower itself would be damaged and as you can see, there are no breaches in the wall through which such terrible energies could escape."

"And your students are incapable of this sort of power, I trust?" Maggie continued, showing an unexpected flair for deduction.

"None of our students are capable of invoking the sorts of energies necessary to damage a paved road to that degree, certainly," Desmond answered gruffly.

"What of these artefacts you have lying around?" Aiden asked, noticing that Sayana had moved away from the group to inspect the oddities in the room more closely.

"They are kept under lock and key, and any use is strictly monitored by the faculty," Desmond replied distractedly, trying to keep an eye on Sayana as she moved around the room. "Do not touch anything there, miss, or I cannot be held responsible for the consequences."

"There are several devices here that could have been the source of such destruction," she said absently, as if talking aloud to herself. Her hand hovered about the bench as she moved.

"You have some knowledge of these things, miss?" Desmond asked, his interest piqued by the mysterious girl. "Uh yes, there are darts that detonate with considerable force, and a staff that is more than capable of channelling the power you seek, but as I informed you earlier, access is restricted."

"To whom?" Maggie asked, looking up at the wizard towering above her almost as if she was looking down upon him.

"Myself, the Arch-Chancellor of course, Dean Webber down in Acquisitions, and some of my more accomplished students who assist me in my work," Desmond explained. "Before you say it, those students are under strict supervision while handling any dangerous goods."

"Has anything gone missing over the past couple of days?" Pacian asked. "Say... one of the small, easy to conceal items that might be able to blow up a road?"

"To suggest that one of my students is a thief is beyond contemptible," Desmond growled.

"He's not suggesting anything," Maggie explained casually, "but we would like to speak to them, all the same." Desmond glanced around at them from under his furrowed brow for a long moment before finally relenting.

"Very well, if it will put this talk of theft and duplicity to rest, I will permit you to question my assistants," he said, finally calming down. "But if I learn of any more baseless accusations against our students, the duke will be hearing about it."

"You have nothing to worry about," Maggie assured him, beaming a wide smile up at him. "Their names, if you please?"

"Maxwell Brady, Alan Leonson, and Patricia Sothby," Desmond supplied, somewhat mollified. "You can find them in the student's tower, pursuing their own studies. All three of them are from noble families, so please exercise the utmost discretion when speaking with them."

"Thank you, you've been most co-operative," Maggie told him. She and the others turned to leave, but Aiden had one last inquiry to make.

"Just before we leave, Dean Foster, I have a quick question for you," he stated. "Does the name 'Salinder' mean anything to you?"

"Should it?" he replied without missing a beat. Aiden's confidence faltered with this casual response, for he was certain this was the man the dragon had mentioned.

"I was informed the name would have some meaning for you," Aiden pressed, hoping to glean something from his expression, his tone of voice, anything.

"Is that one of those new bevelling planes I've heard about?" he mused. "Ridiculous, really. How many ways do you need to cut a piece of wood?"

"I... never mind," Aiden said, giving up. There had been no sign of recognition from the wizard and he was beginning to doubt himself. "Thank you for your time. We'll leave you to get back to your work."

"About time, I should say," the Dean grumbled, turning his back on them and heading over to his work area once more. Aiden followed the others back out into the stairwell and watched as the heavy door silently closed behind them, wondering just how good a liar the old wizard might be.

"What was that about?" Maggie asked suspiciously. "Do you know something about this incident that you're not telling us?"

"It was an unrelated issue," Aiden explained, slowly moving down the stairs. "Oh, nicely done back there, Maggie. I wasn't sure what to expect from you in an urban setting but you've got a real knack for getting things done."

"Well, I wasn't always a druid," Maggie replied with a wink.

* * *

Despite pressing for more information on that leading statement, Maggie refused to elaborate further, leaving Aiden to wonder just what her former profession might have been. He didn't have a lot of time to ponder however, for within minutes and a brief exposure to the elements they were inside the student's tower.

Aiden guessed this smaller tower had been built first, for the interior was far more aged and decrepit than the one they had just left. It had the appearance of a dungeon more than a place of study. An old suit of armour, complete with sword, was propped against the wall opposite the fireplace.

The occupants had attempted to spruce the place up a bit with a few tapestries and banners, as well as some comfortable furniture, but these contrivances couldn't conceal the true nature of the dank structure. Half a dozen aspiring wizards of roughly Aiden's age were gathered in the room at present.

Aiden felt a pang of regret that he could have been one of them, had circumstances been different. Most of them probably came from noble families, those with the wealth to support the University's fees. From what he'd read however, nearly half the students admitted to the school would fail to pass, regardless of their wealth.

"Pardon me, is one of you named Maxwell, Patricia or Alan?" he asked the small group.

"I'm Maxwell," replied a man dressed in the simple grey robe of a student. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"Why did you destroy the pavement out on Renown Street?" Pacian asked accusingly, stepping forward to gain the student's full attention. Aiden's surprised expression matched that of the students at this sudden and unexpected question.

"I— I had nothing to do with it!" Maxwell stammered, instantly on the defensive.

"He was here all afternoon, the same as I was!" a homely young lady added, coming to Maxwell's aid.

"Are you Patricia?" Maggie asked in a more conciliatory tone, to which the young lady nodded. "Both of you apparently have access to the laboratory on the fourth floor. We're not accusing you of anything just yet," she added, casting a sidelong glance up at Pacian.

"We all had yesterday afternoon off," another student pointed out. "Both Max and Pat were here with us."

"So, you were all in on it?" Pacian pressed. "That's what I'm hearing..."

"You are forgetting someone," Valennia reminded them, watching the proceedings with disinterest.

"Wait, which one of you is Alan Leonson?" Aiden asked, realising he was unaccounted for.

"Alan's upstairs in his room, studying," Patricia replied.

"Was he here yesterday?" Aiden continued, and received only silence as his reply. The students looked at each other, not one of them able to account for Alan's time.

"I think we should speak with him before we talk further," Maggie stated. "Just remain here until we get back, if you please. Valennia, could you guard the door?"

"I can," she replied. "Shall I permit no one to pass, on pain of death?"

"Yes, something like that, but don't actually hurt anyone," Maggie suggested. Aiden noticed she was quite good at taking charge of a situation. At the other end of the room, a spiral staircase, similar to the one in the main tower could be seen, leading up. "Which room is Alan's?"

"Second floor, room three," Maxwell supplied. "You don't think he had something to do with this, do you?"

"I'll let you know after we talk with him," the druid replied, leading them through the common room towards the stairs.

"Just one more thing," Patricia called to them. "Alan has a bit of a gambling habit, and it's frowned upon by the faculty. Please don't tell them!"

"I won't make any promises, but thanks for the information," Maggie replied, pondering this little piece of news with interest.

"What was that?" Aiden asked Pacian in hushed tones, while looking back at the students staring timidly at Valennia's imposing presence.

"I put him on the spot to see how he'd react," Pacian explained. "His response seemed pretty authentic to me."

"Since when are you an expert on subtlety?"

"I know fear when I see it," Pacian assured him as they climbed the stairs. "That was genuine fear, but not of being caught."

"He's right, though it pains me to say so," Maggie sighed, walking twice as fast to keep up with them. "Just don't do that again, because if Alan is the culprit, he's likely to do something rash when confronted with the prospect of discovery."

When they reached the first floor, they almost stumbled into another student, a young man who seemed to be in a hurry. Instantly suspicious, Aiden stepped in front of him to block his passage.

"Are you Alan Leonson?" he asked.

"Yes?" Alan replied hesitantly. He was a heavy-set youth dressed in the same grey robe as the other students.

"We need to ask you a few questions about the explosion that blew out part of the pavement yesterday afternoon," Maggie stated.

"Oh, that," Alan replied, somewhat relieved. "I heard one of our teachers, Dean Foster, had something to do with it. You should probably go talk with him."

"We already have, and he's pointed the finger at you," Pacian responded calmly. Aiden could see that the student's brow was covered in a fine film of sweat beneath his hat.

"Why are you sweating so much, Alan?" Aiden asked suspiciously. "It isn't exactly hot in here."

"I just finished a rather spicy meal. You ask anyone, I love my cumin but I break out into a sweat every time."

"Bollocks!" Pacian scoffed. "You know something, and we're not leaving 'til we get some answers."

"Alan, if you're in trouble, talk to us — we can help," Maggie said, acting the role of the reasonable part of the group, which Aiden thought played nicely off Pacian's brash attitude.

"Let me think about that for a moment," Alan replied, his lips moving silently for a few seconds as he seemed to be weighing the options. His hands fidgeted, but in a very rhythmic way, almost as if...

"Stop him, he's—" Sayana cried, a moment too late. Alan gave them a little smile of triumph and then ran across the room toward another stairwell leading up. Pacian bolted after him.

"That was an incantation," Sayana blurted as she rushed forward, with Aiden and Maggie in pursuit. They dashed up the stairs, leaving poor Maggie far behind as they caught up to Pacian, who was standing on the second floor staring at a tarnished suit of armour which had come to life. It stepped forward and awkwardly moved towards them, its long sword raised high.

"Step aside!" Sayana ordered, to which Pacian responded to instantly. As soon as he'd moved, a column of fire burst forth from the sorceress' outstretched hand, bathing the armour in flames. Unfortunately, this had no effect upon the animated suit, which stepped in and swung its huge sword with both 'hands'.

It missed Sayana but caught Pacian across the chest when he found his back to the wall. Fortunately, the metal plates of his chest armour kept the sword from piercing his skin.

Aiden summoned his force shield and drew his sword, hoping the animated suit wasn't a particularly good fighter. There was no flesh and blood person inside the suit to hurt — if they were to defeat this contraption, it was very likely they would have to find a way to cut it into pieces. By then, Alan would probably be long gone.

The armoured suit continued to attack, focusing mainly on Aiden. Despite its lack of finesse, the suit was incredibly strong, and was able to bash through most of his attempts to block.

"Keep it busy, I have an idea!" Maggie called from the top of the stairs behind Aiden. Able to do nothing else but keep it busy, Pacian and Sayana used their weapons against the suit for a few more moments until Aiden noticed a heavy dampness in the air.

Moisture formed on the suit of armour before him. The raelani druid poked her head around Aiden's right leg, and made stabbing gesture with her right hand.

Whatever she did had no immediate effect, but with each swing, a grinding, metallic sound grew in volume. The metal, tarnished with age, rapidly began to show signs of rust forming across its entire body until it crumbled to the floor.

They seized the opportunity to dash past the crippled monster to another set of stairs leading up and shortly thereafter emerged on the next floor. Across the other side of the room stood Alan, holding a dart in one hand. He threw it towards them but before it came close, Sayana deflected its path with one sweep of her arm. The dart altered course and instead struck the wall, detonating with concussive force.

The entire tower shook from the blast, tossing them to the floor as they were showered with debris. Smoke blanketed the chamber, obscuring their sight and filling their lungs. As Aiden coughed and struggled to get back on his feet, Maggie held a green gemstone above her head and channelled a gust of air from outside.

The smoke rapidly cleared, allowing them to breathe again but Alan had vanished. This small fact didn't stop Sayana from charging straight for where he'd been standing before the blast, with Aiden back on his feet and following as fast as he could. A terrified student peered around the edge of a dormitory room, having watched the entire scene unfold. Aiden waved her back inside and returned his focus to the chase.

As the column of air pushed aside more of the smoke, he saw Sayana head through a previously obscured door. When Aiden dashed through, Sayana was rushing to tackle Alan, who stood next to an open window. Before she could reach him, the renegade student gestured with both hands. To Aiden's horror, Sayana was lifted from her feet and thrown through the air.

She squealed in terror as she plummeted through the window.

"Sy!" Aiden cried out in shock. The student grabbed a pack laden with belongings and climbed onto a desk with the clear intent of leaping out the same window. Aiden made a rush for him as Alan began incanting another spell that would probably allow him to survive the fall and escape.

He saw Alan's smirk of triumph as his spell was just about to finish, when a pair of daggers lodged into his back. The studen staggered forward, choking on the final words of the incantation right before he fell out of the window.

Picking himself up, Aiden looked behind him to see Pacian approaching with a look of grim satisfaction on his face. Aiden rushed to the window and looked out, expecting to see the grisly remains of two people on the pavement below. Indeed, the broken remains of Alan could be seen within a pool of blood spreading over the snow-covered cobblestones.

To his surprise and relief, he saw Sayana gently floating to the ground with a small gathering of people watching her descent.

"Nice throwing there, Pace," Aiden said at his friend as he paused to catch his breath. "Did you have to kill him?"

"I didn't see any other option," Pacian shrugged.

"It would have been better to take him alive, I think," Maggie remarked, jumping onto a desk so that she could peer out through the window. "Now we may never know what motivated him."

"Maybe there's something in his desk that might help," Aiden suggested, hurrying back downstairs and going through whatever belongings were left in Alan's room. He'd clearly been in a hurry, for a great deal of material was remaining.

Buried under a pile of socks he found three rolled up parchments, all of which glowed in Aiden's enhanced sight, indicating the presence of arcane power. He carefully retrieved all of them and kept looking, but the most prominent item they found was sitting right on top of the desk under Maggie's boots. When she moved, Aiden quickly read its contents.

"Listen to this. 'Alan, arrange for an explosion tomorrow afternoon on Renown Street, just off Foundation Circle, something big enough to block the street. Do this right and I might forget about how much money you owe me.' The note is unsigned, but that's a pretty big clue right there."

"He left it on the desk, right where people could see it," Pacian remarked. "He must have wanted someone to know why he did it."

"The question is, where do we go from here?" Maggie asked.

"Ronan might know more about the sort of people who loan money," Aiden mused thoughtfully. All they had to do now was deal with the ramifications of having the entire top floor of the tower completely destroyed, and from the crowd of wizards gathering around Sayana, they were about to find out why Nellise had warned them against using sorcery.

Chapter Eight

Once they'd reached the ground floor, Aiden and the others noticed the unconscious forms of two students at Valennia's feet, and a heavy wardrobe that had been moved in front of the doorway. The sounds of urgent thumping could be heard on the other side and the remaining students in the room cowered against the far wall, trying to keep as much space between them and the Akoran warrior as they could.

"What's going on down here?" Aiden asked of his new associate.

"These two tried to flee when the tower shook with fire," Val explained. "Then others tried to come in through the front door, so I blocked it. I want you to know I made a conscious effort to not kill anyone."

Maggie crouched to check on them, while Aiden motioned for the other students to relax. They didn't appear to share his optimistic assessment however, and continued to cower.

"Well..." Aiden began, addressing Valennia, "you did what you were told to do. You can unblock the door now."

"As you wish," Val replied, stepping to one side of the closet and pushing it back into place against the nearby wall. Aiden suddenly realised that the furniture was made from thick hardwood, quite possibly weighing a hundred pounds. He idly wondered what sort of muscles the Akoran warrior had hidden underneath her tunic.

Once clear, Aiden unlocked and unbarred the doors, which immediately burst inwards as a dozen robed men and women rushed forward. Some of them were students and others were, in fact, members of the City Watch.

Nearly all of them had questions for Aiden and his associates, demanding to know what had happened. He answered questions for ten minutes, unable to leave the tower site until the student who had witnessed the events upstairs came forward to confirm that Alan was responsible for the explosion.

Finally free from the intensive questioning, Aiden looked through the crowd and could see Sayana dealing with a similar mob of inquisitive wizards and guards, and she was clearly not handling the situation as well.

"Gentlemen, please, one at a time," Aiden asked patiently. Valennia crossed her arms and refused to budge, and there didn't seem to be anyone interested in tackling her for the moment.

Eager to be done with this, Aiden deflected all further questions to the University staff and flashed the duke's seal at them to lend further weight to his words. Their co-operation was immediate and Aiden was starting to enjoy having this sort of authority. Sayana seemed to have gained the attention of the arch-chancellor himself, along with Dean Foster and another senior faculty member as Aiden approached.

"Is there a problem here, ladies and gentlemen?" he asked, gaining their attention.

"The question is sir, in what order do we attempt to deal with the many problems that have suddenly appeared," the arch-chancellor replied caustically. "Yet another detonation within city limits, this time on University grounds, the death of a student — the son of a noble no less — and the appearance of a sorceress in our midst. I find it hard to believe that these events are unrelated."

"I told you, I wasn't responsible for that explosion," Sayana said. "One of those darts that I saw in this man's chambers," — she pointed at Desmond — "was thrown at us as we pursued Alan Leonson. The dart erupted in an explosion which destroyed part of the tower."

"Yes, I've just heard a report from a witness confirming this information," Arch-Chancellor Zachariah replied before turning to the old wizard next to him. "Dean Foster, could this student have taken one of those darts from your laboratory without you knowing of the theft?"

"My eyesight isn't what it used to be, Arch-Chancellor. It is possible one was stolen without my knowledge."

"May I suggest that you go and thoroughly check your collection to ensure all is present and accounted for?" Zach requested of his counterpart. Desmond nodded, and reluctantly turned to head back into the main tower. During this time, the other wizard had been scrutinizing Sayana closely. He appeared to be middle-aged, with a receding hairline partially covered by the hood of his frayed blue robe.

"What's your problem?" Aiden asked him bluntly.

"My 'problem', as you put it, is this young lady seems to have the ability to channel magical energies without the use of incantations or any other form of magic practiced by sane people. Furthermore, Arch-Chancellor, I have no recollection of her attending the University, so I must conclude she is a 'wild talent'."

"Are you saying you can recall the faces and names of anyone that studied here with total veracity?" Maggie asked suspiciously, standing almost unnoticed down to Aiden's right.

"I can indeed, my raelani friend," the wizard answered pleasantly, peering down at her. "Sir, I think we should take her inside for further questioning while you deal with this debacle."

"Do as you see fit, Dean Webber," Zachariah instructed, drawing a concerned look from Sayana, who had watched silently as decisions about her life were made around her.

"She's done nothing wrong," Aiden protested as Webber started to lead her away with one hand firmly upon her arm.

"I believe you, and to be clear, my interest has more to do with her safe descent from the tower rather than the explosion on the road," the balding wizard explained. "The simple fact of her existence should not be, and we here at the University are charged with trying to determine the exact nature of such... aberrations."

"I have the authority of the duke, and I demand you release her at once," Aiden instructed, retrieving the letter with the seal upon it.

"As it happens, so do we," the Arch-Chancellor countered. "If you have an issue with our mandate, I suggest you take it up with His Grace. Now if you'll excuse me, I must attend to this mess."

"At least allow me to be present during her questioning," Aiden asked, trying one last time to gain some control over the situation.

"For your own safety, I must deny your request. Only those familiar with the intricacies and dangers of the magic arts should be present at this time, in case she turns out to be as dangerous as we suspect." Aiden was about to protest further when he noticed Sayana shaking her head at him ever so slightly.

Reluctantly acceding to her silent request, Aiden allowed her to be taken away with the realisation that if they knew he was capable of some of the things she had demonstrated, he'd be carted away too.

"Should we attempt to rescue our comrade from the clutches of these weak old men?" Valennia asked as the crowd of curious students, city watchmen and wizards began to disperse, "I could kill them all with a loud sneeze."

"They may look weak, but they make up for it in other ways," Aiden mused aloud.

"I have yet to meet anyone able to withstand an axe to their face, Aiden. However, as my employer, I will accede to your wishes," Valennia finished.

"I'd love an explanation of what gives them the right to haul people away like that," Pacian remarked, approaching from the nearby scene of Alan Leonson's abrupt death.

"Where have you been?" Aiden asked, receiving a nonchalant shrug from his blond friend.

"Investigating Alan's body, in case there was something important on there," Pacian explained.

"Was there?" Maggie asked curiously.

"Not really. He had a nice ring that he won't need anymore, though," Pacian winked.

"Stealing from the dead, lovely," Maggie griped.

"Considering his connections, I imagine he got this beauty with ill-gotten gains, so in a way, I'm stealing from the scoundrels that gave him the money to buy this in the first place."

"Or it could be a family heirloom," she exclaimed.

"No, there was nothing on it to indicate any sentimental value," Pacian assured her. "Besides, it has one of those gems what focuses magic, or something. Might come in handy, you know?"

"Whatever, I really don't care," Aiden remarked distantly as he watched the tower doors close behind Sayana and her escort.

"Don't worry, she'll be fine," Pacian remarked. "From what I could see, they didn't bother taking away her axe, so look at it this way — she's allowing them to take her prisoner."

"Fair point, I suppose," Aiden replied, settling down somewhat. His attention was caught by the sight of Sir William waving to them from the top of the cathedral steps. Nellise was by his side, and a number of the clergy were at the door, looking at the commotion and talking amongst themselves. Aiden headed over to speak with them with the others sauntering along behind him.

"Aiden! What in God's name happened here, sir?" the knight asked as they took the stairs.

"Our investigation ran into a little problem," Aiden explained ruefully. "The man who fell to his death was responsible for the destruction of the pavement on Renown Street, and the evidence we found indicates he was forced to do this by some shady interests. I'll have a talk to Ronan later on about who might be in the business of loaning out money."

"And the explosion?"

"He had a dart, magically empowered to explode with great force," Aiden continued to the benefit of everyone standing nearby. "I can only assume he had another just like it to use on the pavement. In any case, that doesn't give us much to go on. Sayana was just taken away for using sorcery — would you care to enlighten me as to why this has happened?"

"I did warn you," Nellise answered, her eyes wide at the news. "I suppose circumstances demanded she act, however."

"She was falling to her death at the time," Aiden confirmed. "So why the paranoia about sorcery? I don't recall reading anything about any such restrictions over the years."

"I'm not privy to all the details," Nellise remarked in hushed tones, "but in the past there were certain individuals born with tremendous power, who used it... unwisely. The Church lost a lot of good people trying to rein them in, not to mention the civilian deaths that occurred before the Church became involved. It's been many years since a natural wild talent has shown up, but there are protocols are in place to deal with such people."

"What are they going to do with her?" Aiden asked, licking his lips in fear as he thought of Sayana's safety.

"Questioning, mostly," the cleric continued, "under the watchful eye of a room full of wizards ready to obliterate her if she tries anything dangerous. I don't think we need to be concerned, as her talents seem to be relatively limited compared with those seen in the past."

"Wait, are you saying she's less powerful than the sorcerers of old?" Pacian asked incredulously.

"That is the general consensus, though as I said, I don't have all the details. That sort of information is kept strictly secret by order of the Archieros, and the arch-chancellor of the University." Aiden noticed that Nellise seemed far more pensive and preoccupied.

"Are you alright, Nel? What's been going on in our absence?"

"I have been discussing my recent decisions with Archon Price, representative of the Resolute Heralds chapter here in Fairloch," Nellise explained quietly. "He has much to say on the matter, though I will admit that it's going better than I had expected."

"Did you mention rescuing the princess?" Pacian prompted. "That might impress him a bit."

"Yes, I informed him it was the singular reason for taking up arms as I did, even if it was something of a lie. But this is a personal matter, and I don't wish to burden you all unduly. Aiden, I want you to come and meet the Archon — he's interested in speaking with you."

"And why is that?" Aiden asked suspiciously.

"You know why," she replied cryptically, with the hint of a smile on her features. Aiden suspected it was to do with his return from the dead, during their time in Akora.

"I can spare a few minutes to speak with him, but I think he's going to be disappointed," he warned, stepping inside the doorway.

"You all go ahead," Maggie advised. "I'm going to stay out here and see if I can give these people a hand sorting out this mess."

"I'm sure the City Watch can handle it," Aiden said.

"You're missing the point," Maggie replied, raising an eyebrow. "Do I have to spell it out?"

"Oh, the whole religion thing," Aiden observed. "Yes, I suppose it might be uncomfortable for you."
"Staying out here might be for the best," Nellise agreed hesitantly.

"Okay, we shouldn't be too long," Aiden advised. "Oh and you did well, back there, by the way. You're definitely not what I was expecting."

"I hear that a lot," she replied with a sly grin as she turned and walked back towards the crowd. Stepping inside the cathedral, Aiden was immediately overcome by the awesome beauty before him.

The building itself was roughly the same size as the halls of knowledge across the compound. The vaulted ceiling was open and clear nearly all the way to the pinnacle of the structure.

The walls were made of polished stone and marble, and vast columns along the length of the cathedral held the weight of the massive structure. Fine wooden pews could seat perhaps a thousand people, although only a few dozen were currently in attendance. The whispers of their prayers echoed around the large stone and marble interior, lending an air of peaceful contemplation to an already extraordinary experience.

Stained glass windows positioned high up in the walls allowed sunlight in, and from what Aiden could see, an array of mirrors reflected the light down below, creating a brilliantly lit interior space. The symbolism of this was not lost on him, though a part of his mind knew the designers had wanted to convey awe upon entering the structure. It worked.

"Is this the place where you speak with your ancestors for guidance?" Valennia asked.

"No Valennia, this is where we commune with God," Nellise explained patiently.

"And this God, he speaks with you only in this place?"

"No, God is always with us, though his voice is not something we hear with our ears, but in our hearts," Nellise told her sagely.

"Amongst my people, shamans convey the wisdom of those that came before us," Valennia said, looking around unimpressed. "We do not need a large hall of rock to hear their voices."

"I think it's an incredible building," Aiden offered, trying to soften the Akoran woman's harsh sentiments.

"Magnificent, is it not?" Nellise remarked, her voice softened with similar feelings as they gazed upon some of the finest architecture in the known world. Even Pacian, cynical to a fault, was quiet for a time as they slowly strode the length of the hallway towards the lectern at the far end. His silence didn't last, however.

"So, you wouldn't welcome a druid in your little church?" Pacian teased Nellise. "She's really small. I doubt she'd be much of a threat."

"It isn't that she would not be welcome," Sir William answered before Nellise could, "but she might find it uncomfortable standing within these hallowed halls in the presence of a deity that isn't her own."

"I sense we could get into a theological debate here," Aiden interrupted. "And it's probably not wise to be getting mired down in an argument. I'm just going to speak with this priest and then we have to move on and continue the investigation."

Nellise guided them towards a man of middle-aged appearance and unremarkable height with short grey-hair and an expression of contentment upon his round face.

"I trust everything is under control out there?" he asked Sir William.

"In a manner of speaking, yes," the knight replied. "I doubt we'll be interrupted by any further explosions, though I am sad to say that a young man lost his life in the incident.

"A man involved with crime, as it happens," Pacian pointed out, "so don't be too upset at the thought of him falling to his death."

"Any death is a loss to the community," the priest replied evenly, "regardless of your opinion of his character, sir."

"Archon, this is Aiden Wainwright," Nellise said, smoothly redirecting the conversation. "Aiden, allow me to introduce Archon Ashwyn Price, who represents the interests of our chapter here in Fairloch." The priest's eyes focused on Aiden, the scrutiny making him a little uncomfortable. He believed Ashwyn would be sorely pressed to find anything divine about Aiden's face.

"I'm pleased to make your acquaintance," the priest greeted him personally. "Nellise has told me some interesting things about you, and I was wondering if I might speak with you alone for a few minutes?"

"I suppose so," Aiden reluctantly agreed. "I hope the rest of you don't mind waiting."

"Not at all," Sir William replied, "I'm going to find my old friend Corvyn Elward and introduce him to our lovely young priestess." Nellise seemed to blush slightly at this compliment, and she completely missed Pacian's dark look at the knight.

"The Patriarch is indisposed at the moment," Ashwyn informed them, appearing nervous all of a sudden. "Archioness Quinn can tell you more, why don't you go and speak with her?"

"I knew that Corvyn's health was deteriorating, though I had not been informed that he had taken a turn for the worse," Sir William remarked crisply. "This man is a pillar of the community and more than that, an old friend. I should have been informed of any developments."

"It is a rather delicate matter, sir knight, and I would beg your indulgence. Olivia? Come and speak to Sir William, if you please?" Ashwyn called to another robed priest nearby, who walked over and conferred with him in whispered conversation for a few moments. She was a plain looking woman, thin, with brown hair and small brown eyes.

"I demand to know what is going on here, at once," Sir William barked. "Your conduct is reprehensible sir, and I shall take this matter to the highest office if I this veil of secrecy is not lifted immediately."

"Sir William," the priestess named Olivia addressed him delicately, "you will understand the nature of our reluctance when I tell you of what has happened. Please, step this way and I shall tell you in private."

"That's more like it," the knight replied gruffly. "Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, while I get to the bottom of this nonsense." As the two of them walked away to speak in private, Ashwyn motioned for Aiden to walk with him in a different direction.

Curious about what was happening with this patriarch, Aiden gave Pacian a meaningful look. Pacian nodded slightly, then began sauntering innocently over to where Sir William was engaging in a quiet yet heated discussion with the Archioness.

"So, Aiden," Ashwyn began, probably wondering how to start a conversation that involved asking 'did you meet God?' "Nellise tells me that during a terrible fight, you were mortally wounded."

"I prefer to think of it as 'knocked down'," Aiden replied. He was attempting to dispel Nellise's opinion that God had sent him back from heaven.

"Although I am rather unfamiliar with battle, it is not so difficult to believe that an axe lodged into one's forehead would indeed be fatal," Ashwyn countered. "Nellise's companions saw you fall, so I am left to ponder the implications of you standing here before me, drawing breath."

He leaned in closer and looked carefully at Aiden's forehead. "I see a slight scar running vertically down from your hairline, which would appear to be compelling evidence that you did indeed take a mortal blow during the fight. Can you tell me what you experienced after that moment?"

"Darkness," Aiden replied flatly. This was a surprisingly unpleasant area of discussion for him. "Then I awoke on the cold ground, in pain but determined to rescue my friends." Ashwyn rubbed his chin thoughtfully, pondering Aiden's words.

"A curious recounting, Aiden. I sense no duplicity from you, yet I cannot help but feel you are holding things back."

"If it helps at all, one of my other companions believes I am in the thrall of a dark, extra-dimensional entity that eats souls," Aiden confided sarcastically.

"Such things are not beyond the realms of possibility, but let us restrict ourselves to the facts from your perspective, shall we?" Ashwyn replied smoothly.

"When I awoke the axe wasn't lodged into my head," Aiden explained, playing with the truth a little, "so I'm certain the blow simply knocked me out. Honestly, I don't know what happened, but I definitely did not run into God while I was unconscious."

"That, I can believe," came the reply, accompanied by a raised eyebrow. "Tell me, have you had much contact with the Church in your life?"

"A small chapel in Coldstream held services once a week," Aiden explained. "I found myself up to my nose in books for the most part and never seemed to find the time to attend."

"I see," Ashwyn nodded sagely. "The loss is yours, but I must confess that we are still having difficulty getting our message out to people in the frontier towns. The old religions such as the druidic worship of Gaea hold much sway with country folk, so I can't really blame you for your indifference." The priest glanced around briefly then took a step closer to Aiden. "Before I let you go, I wanted to ask you about Nellise."

"What would you like to know?"

"I am concerned about her attitude," Ashwyn began, "especially since her recent experiences. Have you noticed a change in her personality of late?"

"Very much so, though it's perfectly understandable," Aiden replied. "She did tell you everything, right?"

"I'm afraid so," the priest sighed. "It must have been terrible for her, and this is the reason I ask you for your perspective on her conduct." Aiden considered this for a moment.

"When we first met, she was very pleasant and compassionate, almost to a fault," he told the priest. "Ever since that foray into Akoran lands, she has been more pensive, but more confident in a way too, particularly with the idea that she must protect the innocent. How is that a bad thing?"

"The fear explains her increasing interest in weaponry," Ashwyn mused. "Unfortunately, when one is clouded with doubt, anger and fear, one is less likely to channel the power of the divine, as well."

"Are you saying that a priest's ability to heal can be compromised?"

"One must be in a state of complete peace when communing with God, to allow the divine light to flow into the world," Ashwyn said. "We must push aside doubt and anger, and above all, we must have faith. This is one of the reasons we of the Resolute Heralds frown upon taking up arms, Aiden. The destruction of another life, even in the cause of good, stains the soul. Other chapters feel differently about this, of course, and there are even those in our own ranks who question the path we walk, but I believe it is a righteous one, regardless of those who might seek a return to a more... militant approach to the faith."

"I take it you are referring to the situation a little over a hundred years ago, when the church had more power than the King," Aiden stated, and received a nod from the priest in reply.

"You have no idea of the magnitude of our shame," Ashwyn said quietly. "The clergy at the time abused their power, and many suffered needlessly as a result. It took years for the people to trust the Church again after that, and we cannot squander that trust by taking up arms, for whatever reason."

"Have you told her this?" Aiden asked.

"Of course," the priest confirmed. "She has been somewhat difficult to read, as it were, and I needed more information in order to..." Ashwyn's voice trailed off as his attention was drawn to a scene across the hall. Aiden turned to look, and saw Sir William and Pacian, along with the priestess Olivia, at a stone door. It seemed that Olivia was trying to prevent Sir William from opening it, and the old knight was having none of it.

"Good heavens, they're trying to enter the mausoleum," Ashwyn breathed, and quickly rushed across the hallway with Aiden following closely behind. As they closed in, the heated discussion going on with hushed voices could be heard.

"Sir William, please," begged the priestess, "this door must remain closed."

"If my old friend is being kept in there, then that is where I am going," he said stubbornly. "Stand aside, madam, or I shall be forced to remove you."

"Wait a minute, what's going on here?" Aiden asked as Ashwyn moved to stand by the distressed Olivia.

"Patriarch Elward is ill, and for some reason the Church is trying to keep it quiet," Sir William complained. "I honestly don't care about the need for discretion, as I have given my word of honour that I shall not discuss whatever secrets are being kept, but trying to prevent me from seeing my old friend in a time of need is intolerable."

"I thought you clerics could heal anything," Pacian inquired. Aiden had wanted him to be discreet, but the situation had obviously gone far past that point.

"Unfortunately, the patriarch is neither diseased nor wounded," Ashwyn replied, attempting to placate the enraged knight. "His affliction is that which affects so many of his age — a gradual erosion of his faculties beyond our ability to treat. We do what we can for such people. Often we can only care for them until the end comes. This case, however, is different."

"How so?" Aiden asked.

"For the past few months, Corvyn's mind has been slipping," Ashwyn continued. "He would often forget where he was, and even believe that he was reliving some of his youth. Lately though, he began speaking of his ancestor, Sir Marcus Elward, with remarkable single-mindedness."

"I'm not familiar with the name, is it relevant?" Pacian inquired.

"Sir Marcus was squire to Alaric Roebec, the first King of Aielund," Ashwyn explained. "He went on to become an important ally of the king, and the first knight of the realm. Later in his life he was blessed by the angel Kylaris with a sword of light, Solas Aingeal, which he used to battle a demon that had been loosed upon the world by an insane sorcerer, at the cost of his life."

"Oh that Sir Marcus," Pacian exclaimed facetiously. "Yes, who hasn't heard that story and been influenced by it. Inspiring stuff."

"What has this to do with Corvyn?" Sir William asked, ignoring Pacian. Ashwyn exchanged a hesitant glance with Olivia before responding.

"It is the patriarch's twisted belief that King Alaric Roebec is returning from a long journey, and that he will want to see his old friend Sir Marcus once more," the priest said in a low voice. "He has locked himself into the mausoleum beneath the cathedral to... 'talk' with his dead ancestor."

"And you're allowing this to continue?" Sir William exclaimed loudly, garnering the attention of everyone in the cathedral.

"We will get to him in due course, Sir Knight," Ashwyn informed him curtly. "A missive has been sent to the Holy Inquisitors, who will send a team to go in and retrieve Corvyn. And with respect, sir, this is an internal matter that we will handle ourselves." Sir William pushed the priests aside and tried to open the door via a heavy metal handle. It was indeed locked, and it appeared the knight was about to consider breaking down the door when Pacian put a hand on his shoulder.

"Before you do yourself an injury trying to smash through a stone door, allow me to try," he advised. Sir William stepped aside, keeping the priests at bay with an outstretched hand while Pacian retrieved some small metal tools from a pouch on his belt, then set to work on the lock. A satisfying click could be heard from the mechanism shortly thereafter, and he quickly operated the door handle and pulled the heavy door open.

"I was considering retaining the services of a locksmith to get that open," the knight breathed with surprise, "but I see you are more than qualified for such tasks."

"Yes, because as it happens, I am a professional locksmith," Pacian replied smoothly. "It's what I do. I... smith locks."

"What is going on over here?" Nellise asked as she and Valennia approached, peering over Aiden's shoulder. He gave her a quick rundown on what had transpired.

"Respectfully, Archon," Nellise said to the priest, "the situation should never have been allowed to progress this far. The poor man obviously needs constant care."

"I don't disagree with you Nellise, yet he proved to be quite a handful to deal with," Ashwyn replied, his hands fidgeting nervously, a giveaway that not everything was as they were being told.

"We can assign blame for this fiasco later," Sir William interrupted. "I shall go into the mausoleum and retrieve the old chap before he hurts himself."

"You might want to hold off on that a moment," Aiden suggested. "The Archon has something important he's not telling us." Ashwyn's calm exterior gave way to his inner feelings, as his face turned drained of colour.

"What's do you mean?" Sir William asked gruffly, impatient to be off.

"Close that door at once," the Archon demanded in a shaking voice.

"Not until Corvyn has been safely retrieved," the knight replied obstinately.

"You don't understand. On his way to the mausoleum last night, the patriarch stopped by a secure room and retrieved one of the relics kept under lock and key."

"Just a moment, Sir William," Nellise interrupted. "Archon, are you referring to the Vault of Damnation?"

"Of course, I am," the priest replied curtly. "The patriarch, in his deranged state, has taken one of the forbidden tomes from the vault and locked himself into the mausoleum."

"Stop talking in riddles!" Valennia blurted suddenly. "Speak plainly, so that we might understand what in the hell you are talking about."

"The patriarch has taken the Tome of Reanimation," the Archon spoke quietly, "a vile work containing unspeakable rites, created by the necromancer Aeldrith nearly two hundred years ago. His intent was to raise the dead from their eternal rest and create an army with which to destroy the realm."

"That is only a legend," Nellise protested. "There is no coming back from the dead, save for the intervention of God."

"From what our scholars have deduced, whatever is brought across from the other side is not the same soul that once resided in a given body," the Archon explained. "This tome merely substitutes another entity to use the remains as a sort of unholy puppet — the undead. The Church confiscated the tome after vanquishing the necromancer, and it has lain here in the vault ever since."

"Why would you not destroy such a vile relic?" Sir William balked.

"We've tried," Ashwyn explained. "As far as we have been able to determine, it cannot be destroyed. And given the patriarch's mental state, I fear the worst."

"I may regret asking this," Aiden inquired, licking his lips in consternation, "but what exactly do you mean by 'the worst'?"

"He has, in that tome, the power to reanimate every one of the dead priests in the mausoleum to do his bidding, as well as the body of Sir Marcus himself," the priest said, each word heavy with conviction. The entire group turned to look deep into the darkness of the mausoleum and Aiden's imagination started to run wild.

"We have to stop him, immediately," Nellise breathed. "I'll get my equipment."

"Nellise, wait!" Ashwyn said, snapping out of his horrified trance. "It is not your place to fight, even against horrors such as this. Your companions are more than capable of meeting this challenge — you merely need to support them, as is our place." Nellise stopped walking and turned to face the Archon, a look of incredulity on her features. Aiden, who had come to know Nellise quite well over these last few weeks, knew with some degree of satisfaction that Ashwyn wasn't going to like the response.

"I will not ask others to risk what I would not face myself," she stated with intensity. "Too many have died because of our pacifist ways, Archon, and I will not stand by while my companions walk into danger."

"This is not our way," the priest warned darkly. "You risk expulsion from our chapter with your actions, Nellise. Think of our history — think of why we chose to step back from military actions. Do not throw away a promising future because of your recent trauma, Sarient," he advised, referring to her rank within the church. "Have faith that God will put the right people in the right place at the right time."

"I am where I need to be, and I will do what my conscience demands," the young cleric said, appearing resolute and calm in the face of adversity. "The Church is responsible for what is about to take place. We need to ensure the safety of the community — that is all that matters." With that, she strode purposefully out of the front doors of the church, to the astonishment of most within the cathedral, but the admiration of Aiden and his companions.

Chapter Nine

"Everyone, please remain calm!" Archon Price called to the dozens of people milling around inside the cathedral who'd overheard most of what Aiden and the others had been discussing. Half a dozen acolytes arrived to help calm the crowd, and slowly began herding them towards the entrance.

While that was happening, Sir William had drawn his sword and shield and was limbering up in preparation for a potential fight. Valennia had drawn her weapon as well, a lochaber axe with a huge, single cutting edge, mounted on a shortened handle that did little to diminish its impressive size. The demeanour of the two warriors was one of cool detachment, in stark contrast to Aiden and Pacian's barely controlled fear.

Taking out the scrolls he'd "liberated" from Alan Leonson's drawers, Aiden flipped through them to see what sort of incantations he'd stolen. A quick study of the runes indicated that the first one he looked at was basically the same as the spectral armour he'd used before, back in the Akoran cave.

One of them was imbued with powerful runes of destruction, which would summon lightning in the same way that he'd seen enemy wizards do in the recent past. This was the sort of thing he was hoping to eventually find, since his swordsmanship was barely adequate and he needed an edge.

"Perhaps I should close the door while we wait," Pacian mused, catching Aiden's attention. It wasn't what he'd said though, it was how he said it — the blond rogue was deathly afraid of something, and looking at the darkness beyond the door, Aiden could see what it was.

A pair of pale blue eyes was looking out at them, glowing faintly in the dark. Light from the cathedral reflected off them, which stared without blinking and contained no life. The echo of shuffling sounds could be heard from the mausoleum, and it was clear that their worst fears had come to pass — the patriarch had enacted the rites to bring his deceased brethren back, though only as a pale mockery of life.

"Close it, quickly!" Aiden breathed, his pulse racing and his hands clammy from the tension. Pacian stood unmoving, frozen to the spot, staring back at the approaching horror until Valennia slammed the door shut and leaned against it to hold it in place.

"We should not wait for Nellise," she advised, "let us enter this pit of horrors and slay the mad priest without delay!"

"We are not slaying Corvyn," Sir William protested. "We will get him out of that tomb and return him to custody where he can be cared for." A heavy thump at the door almost knocked Valennia from her feet. Sir William added his weight, leaning against the stone door in an effort to keep it closed. The crowd of people making their way out of the cathedral saw this and panicked, stampeding out the door and almost crushing some unfortunate priests in the process.

"She's right, we shouldn't wait for Nel," Aiden said with a tremulous voice, drawing his blade and swinging it a couple of times to test its balance.

"Alright, we step back, open the door and I will wade in, cutting down whatever stands in our way," Valennia instructed. "Follow me in, old man, if you wish to show me your mettle."

"I will support your advance, of that you can be certain," Sir William replied gruffly.

"When you move in, I will have to close the door behind you," Ashwyn warned. "I cannot allow those abominations to threaten the lives of those out here. If you need to get out, knock loudly and I shall open it again. God be with you all."

"If Corvyn is harmed, or heaven forbid killed," Sir William replied coldly, "there shall be a reckoning, I swear it." Ashwyn nodded meekly, remaining silent.

The sounds of rapid footsteps approaching caught Aiden's attention, and he could see Nellise rushing towards them as fast as she could with her breastplate partially strapped on and weapons on her back.

"Give me a hand with this, Pace," she asked quickly. Ashwyn looked on impassively, but withheld comment. Nellise looked back at him, equally silent, until she placed her helmet over her head and threaded her white-blond hair out through the back. Taking out her repeating crossbow, she began whispering prayers while laying one hand purposefully upon its length.

"I find your blessing of a weapon to be... distasteful," Ashwyn commented dryly.

"And yet God answers my prayers," Nellise retorted. "That should give you something to ponder while my companions and I clean up your mess." She then nodded to Valennia and raised the crossbow up to cover the doorway, while Aiden and Pacian stepped to one side.

After Sir William had jumped back, Val swung open the door expecting to see a horde of risen priests clamouring for their deaths. Instead, there was nothing but the darkness. They stood around the door for a long, tense moment, before Valennia, her axe held ready in both hands, took a few steps inside.

"I kind of wish Sayana was here right about now," Pacian remarked, drawing a brief nod of agreement from Aiden.

"We need light," Valennia muttered, and Nellise quickly whispered a prayer that lit her crossbow. The Akoran warrior proceeded inside cautiously, with Sir William and Nellise following close behind. Aiden and Pacian reluctantly ventured in, bringing up the rear.

Aiden struggled to stop his hands from shaking as they moved further into the mausoleum. What began as a short corridor turned into a stairway of broad stone steps leading down into the gloom. The place seemed to be meticulously clean, despite the apparent age of the stone brick walls.

The door slammed shut, leaving them standing above the stairs in near darkness, lit only by the light shed by Nellise's prayer. Their shadows were long and towered above them on the walls, adding to the unsettling atmosphere of the mausoleum.

"We move," Valennia ordered. "Stay focused and do not stray far from me, or I cannot protect you." Without waiting for a reply, she began slowly descending, keeping her axe at the ready.

"Where are they?" Pacian whispered nervously. "We saw one right up at the doorway, it couldn't have just vanished... right?"

"I thought it was keeping guard, but maybe it just came because the door was open," Aiden speculated in a quiet voice. "Where do you think Corvyn would be?"

"Ashwyn spoke of him talking to the remains of Sir Marcus," Sir William whispered over his shoulder. "His tomb is to the left at the bottom of these stairs."

"That doesn't sound far," Pacian remarked hopefully.

"It is roughly seventy yards, through an entire wing of the Church's honoured dead," the knight added. "If Corvyn has indeed used forbidden..." his voice trailed off as they reached the bottom of the stairs and saw before them dozens of pale-blue eyes, glowing in the reflected light. Each of the corpses stared at them, still wrapped in the vestments which had been used in preparing their remains long ago.

Aiden froze in fear as the host shuffled towards them, moving as fast as the state of their decaying bodies permitted. Pacian screamed and stumbled up the stairs as fast as he could, while Valennia, for all her bravado, staggered backward a step. Neelise froze in fear at the sight, but Sir William was the exception of the group, not merely holding his ground but advancing upon them.

"These are but the defiled remains of the honoured dead," the knight called as the risen priests moved straight towards him. "We shall return them to their eternal rest." Nellise, as shocked as Aiden at the sight of their worst fears come to pass, snapped out of her trance and loosed a bolt at the nearest reanimated corpse.

A flash of light blinded them for a moment as the blessed bolt touched the unholy creature. It breathed a raspy scream and flailed at the bolt sticking out of its chest, only to have another strike its leg with similar results.

Steam arose from their corpses as more blessed bolts purified the abomination, distracting it enough that Sir William was able to step in and shatter its decaying bones over the ancient stone paving with one sweep of his blade.

Sir William, for all his bravery, was in danger of being surrounded by the monsters unless Aiden and the others managed to pull themselves together. With shaking hands, he raised the parchment of lightning, and by the torchlight nearby began to read out the few lines of arcane runes to release the energy stored within.

Pointing into the crowd, Aiden succeeded in reading the incantation without error and the parchment quickly shrivelled into ash. An arc of electricity lit up the mausoleum as if it were the middle of the day, crackling through the horde of reanimated priests from one end to the other. The smell of charred flesh filled his nostrils as some of the corpses caught fire, howling as they thrashed about.

The bolt of lightning also served another purpose — it was a signal to the others that they had a chance against the horde, and it was all Valennia needed to gather her wits and let out a piercing battle cry as she charged into the fray. She swept her axe back and forth against the supernatural monsters, taking off limbs and severing bones.

This was not a one-sided fight, however, as the corpses seemed to be imbued with incredible strength. Each swing of their arms struck with brutal force. Nellise continued to shoot a storm of crossbow bolts at the corpses, but of Pacian, there was no sign. Aiden summoned his force shield and against all his instincts, moved in to help his allies.

The smell at close range was almost unbearable. Aiden's shield proved to be a blessing, for it absorbed solid hits from his relentless opponents that would surely have crippled him. When a cry of alarm came from Nellise, Aiden glanced over his shoulder to see her being assailed by a pair of arms reaching up from an adjacent casket, clawing at her robes and trying to pull her in.

She shot a crossbow bolt into the casket and the rasping sound of pain coming from within, but with the distraction keeping her busy, they were in danger of being overwhelmed. Aiden swung his sword ineffectually against one of the corpses, and with his panic mounting he was contemplating making a break for it to regroup at the entrance to the mausoleum when a soft radiance started to envelop them.

They had been fighting by the subtle light from Nellise's glowing crossbow, but this new light was different. The abominations before him recoiled, ceasing their attacks and allowing the beleaguered group to fall back and catch their breath. Nellise held her crystal aloft in one hand — Aiden had seen her channel such power before, but this time she was having trouble maintaining the flow. The strain was evident in her eyes.

"I can't hold them for long," she whispered through gritted teeth. Aiden knew why she was having difficulty, but this was hardly the time or place to discuss it.

Having overcome his initial fear of the animated corpses, Aiden was struck by the crude simplicity of their attacks. They had no mind to speak of, and used no finesse or strategy in their assaults, relying instead on force of numbers and supernatural strength.

As Valennia and Sir William waded forward, the aura of light from Nellise flickered and failed. Free from the power of the heavens inhibiting their actions, the risen priests set to the attack once more. Deep in her battle-lust, Valennia didn't seem to notice how badly she was being pummelled, while the knight was forced to raise his shield and simply try to survive.

Valennia responded with her axe, striking them down one after another, crushing bone and severing decaying limbs. Aiden, unable to find a way to be useful, realised Nellise was the key to winning this fight. He went to look for Pacian and found him watching from a safe distance, leaning against the wall.

"They will not perish!" Valennia called, for the remains that had been cut to the ground were reassembling and rising back to their feet to press the attack against them. Whatever dark magic was animating the corpses was stronger than their weapons, and it was becoming clear that there was only one way to finish this.

"We've got to get to Corvyn and make him reverse the incantation," Aiden shouted, encouraging Pacian to follow but unsure if his friend was up to it.

"How are we going to get past those things?" he asked, nervously.

"We run. Nel, can you do that thing with the light again?"

"I... yes, but only for a few seconds," she warned. Nellise took out her crystal once more and with genuine struggle began to pray. As the light spread over the corpses, they recoiled as before. Aiden sprang into action.

"Keep them busy, we're going to deal with Corvyn," Aiden yelled as he rushed past Sir William and Valennia, without even waiting to see if Pacian was following him. Pushing through the ranks of the undead was one of the least pleasant experiences in Aiden's life, and he cringed each time he grazed one.

Invoking his arcane light, Aiden was able to see that not far ahead was another stairway leading down, past rank after rank of opened caskets on either side of the passageway. The sounds of footfalls behind him alerted Aiden to the presence of Pacian, who had apparently mustered up the courage to follow through the army of the dead. The two friends quickly descended the stairs as the sounds of fighting intensified behind them.

The sound of a man talking came from somewhere ahead. Pacian put a hand on Aiden's arm to stop him and crept past, using the ample shadows to move forward unseen. Aiden held his position for a long moment until his impatience won out and he moved forward to investigate.

He entered a circular room roughly twenty yards across, dimly-lit by torches in wall sconces. A raised dais was placed in the middle, on which sat a simple casket. The lid had been completely pushed aside and to Aiden's horror, the corpse of Sir Marcus stood before it, clad in ancient armour and a helm which thankfully kept his grisly remains concealed.

An archaic sword was strapped to its right, and a shield strapped to its left, though both hung as if the creature didn't know they were there. The corpse stood completely still with its head at an odd angle, almost as if it were listening to the elderly priest nearby.

The robed old man must have been Patriarch Corvyn. His mind was clearly unsettled, for he seemed to be conducting a one-way conversation with the silent corpse. Corvyn didn't seem to notice this, and continued speaking of strange events that may or may not have happened. A large, leather-bound book was held close to his chest — undoubtedly the tome of reanimation.

Pacian crept around the edge of the chamber, making his way slowly to the elderly priest. Knowing Pace, Aiden figured he was planning to stab Corvyn in the back, but he wasn't sure that would release the dead back to their endless sleep so he quickly formulated a new plan.

"Corvyn, is that you?" Aiden asked in as casual a manner as he could manage. The elderly priest stopped talking in mid-sentence and turned to peer at him. His grey hair was matted and unkempt, and his eyes had a vague look about them.

"Do I know you?" he rasped.

"No, but I know of you, Your Eminence," Aiden replied carefully, ignoring Pacian's look of disbelief from nearby. "You look tired sir, and your guest is simply dead on his feet. Why don't you put that heavy book down and return to your chambers for a nap?"

"What? Oh, yes, well I am rather fatigued, young man," Corvyn mumbled as the animated corpse of one of the Kingdom's greatest historical figures looked on impassively. "Sir Marcus has travelled a long way to be here and it would be unseemly to relinquish my role as host to such an esteemed visitor. Perhaps in a few hours I might introduce him to the Archieros and then take my leave."

"Why wait?" Aiden pressed, licking his lips. "We can head upstairs to see him now, and you can all sit in comfort while you talk." If Aiden's ploy didn't work, it was quite possible they would have to fight the armoured corpse. Corvyn's eyes lost focus for a long moment, and Aiden flicked a nervous glance at Pacian, standing in the shadows gripping his daggers tight.

"Where am I?" Corvyn muttered a moment later, glancing slowly around at the chamber in which they stood. Aiden looked at him sharply, wondering if this was a moment of lucidity from the old priest.

"You're in the burial chamber of Sir Marcus Elward," Aiden replied slowly, gambling that a dose of reality might snap the old fellow out of it.

"What in blazes am I doing down here, you rapscallion," he snarled, appearing aghast. "Did you drag a tired old man down here? For what purpose?"

"We don't have time for this," Pacian muttered, swiftly moving in, ready to take him down. Aiden winced at the thought of harming the poor old chap, but given the situation, he wasn't about to stop Pacian from trying it either. Just as Pace was about to strike the old priest, Aiden's worst fears came true as the armoured remains of Sir Marcus sprang into motion with incredible speed.

Surprised by the sudden movement, Pacian's instincts kicked in and he rolled backwards, just in time to avoid being skewered by the abomination's sword.

"Sir Marcus, aid me against these blaggards," Corvyn gasped, staggering to lean against the wall as if he barely had the strength to stand. Aiden rushed over to Corvyn and ripped the book from his grasp, knocking him to the floor in the process. The armoured corpse awkwardly clanked over towards him and swung its arms around, lacking the finesse to aim, but hammering away at Aiden's arcane shield with each wild swing.

"Keep it busy, Pace, I need to examine the book!" he cried as he struggled to keep it at bay.

"Are you crazy?" he called back while Aiden dodged the dead knight's assault. "What am I supposed to do, slow it down with my own blood and guts?"

"Think of something! If I don't figure out how to undo this we're going to die down here!" That, finally, spurred his friend into action. Pacian threw caution to the wind and charged at the undead knight, skewering it in the back with both of his daggers. It turned around, flailing its arms wildly. Pacian, spurred on by adrenaline and fear, was like a jackrabbit, hardly staying in one place long enough for the unholy thing to hit.

Seeing the old priest unable to get up off the floor, Aiden turned his attention to the ancient tome in his hands. He flipped it open and scanned the pages for anything relevant. He noticed the patriarch had bookmarked a page with a sliver of red silk, so he turned to that section and found what he was looking for.

The arcane syllables and runes weren't all that familiar to Aiden, but he knew enough of it to realise that the patriarch had violated his oaths as a holy man when he invoked this necromancy. The words needed a specific focus, such as raising only those present, or within certain limits such as the cathedral burial chambers. Reversing the effects was unnecessary, as the power that sustained the animated corpses was finite. However, if his reading was correct, it would be many more hours before the spirits were released back to whatever dark place they came from.

"Could you hurry up?" Pacian shrieked from across the chamber. The sounds of metal on metal could be heard as he continued poking and slashing at the brittle, ancient armour with no practical effect. The armoured corpse was slow, but it relentlessly pursued Pacian around the chamber and it was only a matter of time before he made a mistake and had his head removed from his shoulders.

Aiden focused on the incantation, wracking his brain for any knowledge he might have come across concerning the dark arts. One of the runes almost jumped out at him, for he remembered it as being a key component of many incantations. Removing the spirits from the corpses might not be a matter of reversing the effect, but simply dismissing it. He recalled a brief incantation of dismissal, and figured that if he supplemented this rune, it might just do the trick.

The clang of a sword hitting the ground interrupted his thoughts for a moment, and looking up, he saw that Pace had managed to sever the hand of the armoured corpse, sending its armoured fist clattering to the ground while still holding the sword. Pacian rolled forward and plucked the gauntlet from the ground, keeping the monster from retrieving it.

"Let's see how well you do without this!" Pacian taunted his silent foe, holding the blade by the gauntleted hand that was firmly affixed to the hilt. Sir Marcus responded by thrusting its shield at him, smacking him directly in the face with substantial force and sending him tumbling backwards.

With his heart pounding away, Aiden invoked the arcane runes from memory and to his immense relief, the armoured corpse that was on the verge of once more slamming its shield into Pacian's head suddenly collapsed, clattering to the stone floor with a tremendous racket. The echoes of similar sounds could be heard from up the staircase, indicating that the fight was over for their companions as well.

Silence descended in the mausoleum as the dead returned to their natural state. Corvyn seemed to be staring off into nothing, and was lying almost perfectly still on the floor. His lips moved silently, mouthing words that nobody could hear. Aiden stumbled over to where Pacian was sitting against the wall.

"You okay?" Aiden asked.

"Intact," Pacian whispered, his voice drained of energy. "Damn thing cut me a few times while I was saving your backside."

"I'm not unappreciative," Aiden mumbled, managing a slight grin. "Come on, let's get out of here."

"What about him?" Pacian said, looking at Corvyn.

"I'll take him back upstairs. The poor chap really has lost his marbles," Aiden sighed, "it's kind of hard to blame him for this."

"I'm not having any trouble," Pacian remarked dryly as Aiden helped him back to his feet, before heading over to see if he could move the patriarch.

"Alright Your Eminence, time to go back upstairs," Aiden said in soothing tones so as not to startle the old man. He proved to be pleasantly compliant as Aiden set down the heavy tome, and with both hands lifted the frail old man back to his feet. With the tome under one arm and the old priest half-carried in the other, Aiden and Pace made their way back upstairs to see first-hand the carnage wrought upon the remains of Fairloch's ancient priesthood.

The corpses were scattered about in various states of dismemberment, and it would take many days of work to put the pieces back together again. Aiden did not envy whoever had that task, though it wasn't something he was overly concerned about either. Lying in amongst them was Sir William, with Nellise crouched next to him tending to his numerous injuries. Valennia remained standing despite sporting her own injuries.

"Is he going to be okay?" Aiden asked as they slowly made their way onto the scene.

"He is strong to still be drawing breath," the Akoran warrior remarked in a tight voice. "But if he had any skill, he wouldn't be in this position to begin with."

"He chose to risk his own life to save ours," Nellise countered, continuing to work on bandaging the knight's wounds while she talked.

"It was the least I could do," Sir William added in a strained voice. "I have no regrets about my decision." Upon noticing that Aiden was carrying his old friend, the knight's expression lit up. "Corvyn! I'm glad to see you're still amongst the living, so to speak." Corvyn seemed to react a little to the mention of his name, before drifting away again. "Fear not old friend, you will be cared for," Sir William added in a melancholy whisper before resting his head on the ground once more.

With Valennia's help, Sir William was carefully picked up and guided to the exit. The relief Aiden felt upon finally being back in the sunlight was palpable. Only moments after returning to the cathedral proper, several younger clerics came over to relieve him of his burdens, taking away the old priest as well as the forbidden tome.

Nellise and Valennia carefully lowered Sir William onto an unoccupied bench, and then the young woman began her whispered prayers of healing. Aiden slumped down onto a nearby seat and stared up at the distant ceiling, trying to process the events of the last hour. Of all the things he had witnessed since leaving home, the eerie, animated remains of the dead rising from their graves had been the most terrifying and not something he would care to see again. Indeed, his old nightmare would have some powerful new competition after he closed his eyes at night.

Presently, he gazed around the cathedral and saw Ashwyn supervising the younger priests as they headed inside the mausoleum to begin the clean-up. Next to the archon was another old priest, clean-shaven and wearing elaborate, gold-trimmed robes.

Unlike Corvyn, this man's eyes still seemed vibrant and alert, despite the tall staff he leaned upon. He smiled back under Aiden's unintentional scrutiny, and walked towards him with Ashwyn following one step behind out of respect. Although he had never met the man, Aiden knew that he could only be looking upon the Archieros of the Church of Aielund.

"Corvyn, my old friend, you have my deepest sympathies," he said in a strong voice to the patriarch, who seemed to recognise the high priest.

"I thought the King would like to see his old friend again," Corvyn mumbled. "It has been so very long for both of them." Aiden raised an eyebrow at this statement, but the archieros only smiled with understanding.

"You are tired and in need of care," he offered in quiet sympathy. "I suspect in your more lucid moments you may regret the actions you have taken today. Sleep now," he added with compassion, and touched the patriarch on the forehead with one hand. To Aiden's astonishment, the old priest fell into the hands of the other priests, who carried the comatose man out of the main hall.

"Aiden, may I present His Holiness, Archieros Keenan Cormac," Ashwyn said as the two senior priests turned their attentions to the small group. This close to the archieros, Aiden felt a certain lightness to the air, as if merely being in his presence was a blessing to those around him. From what could be seen under the white hood of his robe, the man was completely bald and his weathered features seemed to indicate his age was somewhere in his seventies. In spite of this, he still had a spring in his step.

"He—Hello," Aiden stammered, feeling awkward and out of place. The high priest sat down across from him and looked around at the small group. He waited patiently until Nellise had finished her prayers, and she gasped as she looked up and saw who had been quietly observing her.

"Your Holiness," she breathed, taking off her helmet and smoothing down her hair.

"Do not trouble yourself with appearances, sister," Keenan assured her. "I wished to thank you all for returning our wayward brother back to us, and for having the courage to face such darkness. Had we waited until the inquisitors arrived, who knows what turmoil might have come to pass."

"Thank you," Aiden replied quietly, "although the archon didn't seem enthusiastic to receive our aid."

"I will speak with him at length, at the appropriate time," Keenan remarked evenly, and Ashwyn flinched visibly at his words. "Had I been made aware of the situation, I could have aided you myself, though I am not the vigorous young man I used to be."

"I suppose saving face is important to some people," Nellise observed, somewhat caustically. A fine crease of disapproval appeared on the archieros' brow, and he seemed to ponder something for a long moment before speaking. His gaze inadvertently drifted to Pacian, and his pensive expression was replaced by one of surprise.

"I hope you were not planning on keeping that sword, young man," he remarked, looking at the ancient blade Pacian held. The dessicated hand of its previous owner was still inside the tarnished gauntlet.

"This old thing?" Pacian replied in mock astonishment. "Well, it's not really worth much, judging by its age, and well, we did save your church just now..." An amused grin creased Keenan's face.

"The blade you hold in your hands is Solas Aingeal, the Angel of Light, once wielded by Sir Marcus against a terrible evil on the blackest day in the history of our Kingdom," the elderly priest explained. "It is no mere trinket, nor has age diminished its power so do not be fooled by its appearance."

"His Holiness is telling you that you hold in your hands one of the most venerated relics in the Church," Sir William explained dryly. "So no, you cannot keep it."

"Hey, if this is a holy sword, then why was that undead monster about to use it?"

"Well... it wasn't really touching the handle, since it was locked into the gauntlet," Aiden answered after a moment of thought, gesturing at the armoured hand Pacian was grasping.

"Still almost took my head off," Pacian grumbled, relinquishing the sword to the archieros. The holy man took the blade and delicately removed the withered hand from inside, handing it reverently to the archon by his side. As soon as the archieros touched the handle, however, he froze in place, his blue eyes staring at nothing. It reminded Aiden of the look Corvyn had when his mind was drifting, and Aiden hoped that the head of the Church wasn't experiencing a similar affliction in his advanced years.

"What is it, Your Holiness?" Nellise breathed, captivated by the moment. Whatever was happening, she clearly didn't draw the same conclusion Aiden had. The old priest seemed to snap out of his trance, and his eyes turned to Sir William.

"There is change coming to Aielund," Keenan breathed, his voice sounding weaker than before. "It has been revealed to me by Blessed Kylaris that dire events are transpiring beyond our sight even now. It is time for Solas Aingeal to walk the world once more. Sir William, you are a devout man of boundless courage — I am compelled to offer this blade to you for a time, that you might wield it in the name of God and the King."

"If God wills it to be so, then I will take up your charge," the knight intoned. "The honour of bearing this holy weapon is immense, and I will endeavour to be equal to the challenge." The archieros passed the blade to Sir William's outstretched hands, hilt first, without further ceremony.

Aiden caught a long look at the sword as it was handed over, and saw its finely crafted hilt, encrusted with pearls and gold, with a crosspiece fashioned into the likeness of angel wings. Shifting his vision slightly, he could see the immense aura of power the blade possessed and realised just what an honour it must be for Sir William to receive this weapon.

"There is a great deal of work for me to do, so I must leave you all now," Keenan declared, standing up. "I have one last order of business. Nellise Sannemann, I see you sitting there, clad in armour and wielding powerful weaponry. Ashwyn has informed me of your choice to pursue a militant path of service, and considering the events of today, I am grateful you have chosen to do so."

"Thank you, Your Holiness," Nellise replied, practically glowing with pride.

"However, that path is not the one the Resolute Heralds walk, and so it brings me no pleasure to expel you from that holy chapter." Aiden was stunned by this statement, but no more than Nellise — she gaped at the high priest, her moment of vindication destroyed with a few choice words.

"The Resolute Heralds exist to prove our worth to the people, free of military or political influences, and despite earlier signs in your career that you would make a fine Herald, it is clear that your recent experiences have set you on another path. This action is not taken from malice, but for the good of the Church as a whole. Follow your heart, Nellise, and you may find what you seek, but until then, you do not act in service of the Church."

"This sounds like a punishment," Aiden complained. "Do you even realise that none of us would be alive if not for her faith and dedication?"

"There are more issues at stake here than faith, Aiden," Keenan explained, leaning heavily on his staff. "With time, you will all come to understand the nature of this decision. But I regret I must bid you all farewell for now. Go in peace."

"This is ridiculous," Pacian spat, though the priest was already walking away. "Don't listen to him Nel, you're worth ten of him.

Like Pacian, Aiden didn't accept the priest's verdict and felt this was a slap in the face to Nellise, and judging by the broken-hearted look on her delicate features, he could tell she felt the same way.

Chapter Ten

Silence descended upon Aiden and his companions. With both hands Nellise clutched onto the helmet in her lap, showing other no expression of emotion. Eventually, she slowly stood up and walked towards the exit, and the others gradually followed.

"Aiden, tell her not to give up, talk to her," Sir William begged of him as the young man stood to leave.

"I don't think anything I say is going to help out this time," Aiden replied sombrely. "Are you going to be alright here?"

"Of course," the knight assured him with a tight smile. "The priests shall mend my broken bones, but I'm afraid I may be off my feet for the rest of the day."

"Get some rest, and I'll stop by later to see how you're doing."

"Indeed. Oh, and Aiden? Thank you for not killing Corvyn. I know the situation probably demanded it, but you found a smarter way to deal with the problem. I am in your debt, sir."

"I do what I can," Aiden answered. "We'll talk again after you've had a chance to recover."

"As you wish," Sir William nodded, leaning his head back on the bench to await healing. Aiden gave the priest a quick nod, and then strode out of the cathedral to catch up with the others, who were gathered out on the front steps.

The University compound was returning to normal, despite the piles of broken stone scattered around the base of the scarred student's tower. City watchmen had barricaded the area and workmen were busily cleaning up the debris. Aiden spotted Maggie approaching the cathedral from across the compound as he rejoined his companions.

"That took a little longer than I thought it would," the raelani druid remarked with exasperation. "I suppose you're all 'churched up' and ready to go then?"

"Actually, there was an incident," Aiden told her delicately.

"A horde of dead priests rose from their tombs and required re-killing," Valennia explained boldly. "The men of this 'church' were reluctant to get their hands dirty, and so it fell to us to carry out the deed. It was glorious."

"Does this sort of thing happen often?" Maggie asked, her eyes wide in disbelief.

"Of course not," Nellise scoffed. "And frankly, I don't think we should be discussing it in the open like this. I'll return to the inn, to gather my thoughts and to eat," she added, turning to walk out of the University gates without pausing for a reply.

"I feel the urge to get blind drunk, so I'm gonna go too," Pacian declared.

"You? Drink?" Aiden remarked. "I thought you hardly touched the stuff, what with your father's drinking habits and such."

"Don't even bring him up in conversation," Pacian retorted. "I'm nothing like him because I know where to draw the line. But after what I've just seen, I really don't want to be conscious right now."

"No argument here," Aiden replied ruefully. "I think I'll join you." As a group, they started to follow in Nellise's footsteps when it suddenly occurred to Aiden they were missing someone.

"Sayana," he breathed, silently cursing himself for having forgotten her predicament. They had been in the cathedral for at least an hour, giving the wizards of the University plenty of time to interrogate her.

"Do you need some backup?" Maggie asked him. "I'm used to dealing with obstinate bureaucrats."

"No I should be okay, go on ahead with the others," he suggested, thinking about his approach. "Why don't you offer Nel some advice?"

"What am I supposed to say?" Maggie asked, throwing her arms out wide.

"Some generic wisdom might be appropriate," Aiden suggested, bending down to whisper in the raelani woman's ear about Nellise's exile from the church. Maggie nodded thoughtfully, and then turned to head after the others. A thought occurred to Aiden, and he caught Valennia's attention before she decided to follow suit. "Actually, I think this situation calls for a lack of subtlety. Val, come with me." The Akoran woman looked surprised at this, but a faint smile could be detected on her full lips as she fell into step beside Aiden.

"Are you planning to break Sayana out of their grasp with a daring raid?" she asked.

"No."

"Do you want me to free our companion while you distract them with your fancy words?"

"Um... maybe," Aiden mused. "Let's just try talking first. Can you try to look intimidating?"

"I do not need to try, Aiden," Valennia replied, somewhat hurt by his comment.

"Sorry, I should have known that by now," Aiden answered with a slight grin. He admired her boldness, no doubt a hallmark of her people.

They walked through the tower's front entrance and into the central chamber, watching students and faculty member's saunter past on their way to or from classes, or experiments, or whatever else they did in this fascinating place. Aiden's dilemma now was to try and locate where they had taken Sayana. Fortunately, Valennia took the initiative, proving that Aiden certainly picked the right person to accompany him.

"You, tiny man!" she barked at one of the smaller students, walking straight up to him. She towered several inches over the startled young wizard, who nearly dropped his books in surprise. "Did you see a small woman with long red hair being taken away by your masters?"

"I...no, no I didn't," the student stammered. Valennia glared at him for a few moments longer before turning to another, more senior-looking man watching from a few yards away.

"And what of you?"

"Excuse me?" the wizard replied, his attention apparently having been elsewhere.

"I seek a red-headed woman, in the company of at least one of your masters," Valennia reiterated. "In which direction was she taken? Speak!"

"You can't walk around making demands like that!" the wizard replied in outrage. "I have half a mind to order your expulsion from the building."

"This one knows something," Val confided to Aiden before moving in closer to the increasingly distressed wizard. "You would be unwise to challenge me, puny man. However, if you tell me what I wish to know, I will save you the—". As Valennia spoke, Aiden noticed the wizard forming specific signs in the air with his fingers, and watched his lips whisper out arcane syllables.

Before Aiden could warn her, a ripple passed through the air, engulfing the Akoran warrior and stopping her speech midway. She staggered, trying to keep her balance, and then shook her head vigorously to ward off whatever the wizard had tried upon her. Clearly the incantation had not gone as expected, for Valennia recovered in moments and then immediately charged in, grabbing the startled man by the front of his blue robe and staring at him, eye to eye.

"Next time you try to enchant me, wizard, you had better not fail," she growled into his face. From Aiden's position, he could see movement in the shadows approaching the scene. The metal construct that stood guard at the entrance of the tower strode with purpose towards her, each step ringing on the floor like a suit of armour. It reached out with one shining arm and grabbed her shoulder, pulling her away from the wizard with one powerful motion.

"Ah, so the metal man has some steel after all," Valennia murmured to herself, apparently ready to fight the golem when the sound of a staff being slammed onto the ground echoed around the chamber, and a powerful voice called "Stop!" Arch-Chancellor Zachariah stood near the stairs as the scene continued to unfold. At his command, the construct released Valennia and walked back over to its post near the front door.

"I'm sorry that had to happen," Aiden said to the powerful wizard as the crowd of onlookers began to dissipate. The mage that Valennia had grabbed recovered his dignity and scurried off.

"I should bar both of you from ever walking on University grounds again, and believe me when I say it woman, I have the power to make it happen," Zachariah warned her. "Your friend is being questioned on the second floor by Deans Webber and Foster, in the antechamber off to the right. If I hear about any further disruptions I will back up my words with deeds."

Feeling a little self-conscious, Aiden said nothing as the old man descended the stairwell until he was out of sight, and then glanced sideways at the Akoran woman.

"Try not to stir up any more trouble while we're here," he advised.

"I will remain silent until needed, if that is your wish," she said. "You cannot deny the effectiveness of my methods though, Aiden," she added with a look of satisfaction.

Taking the stairs to the second floor, the two companions emerged into the library they'd seen on their previous visit to the tower. It was not nearly as large as Aiden had first thought, and the presence of a dozen young men and women scouring the shelves for tomes of knowledge added a crowded feeling to the room.

They walked through the twisting maze of bookshelves with excess tomes piled up around them. The distinctive aroma of old books laced with some kind of exotic herbs was thick in the air, and the presence of so much paper seemed to deaden sound in the confined space — the very nature of the room instilled in them a need for silence as they searched for the antechamber Zach had mentioned.

Aiden noticed a dark wooden door on the curving stone wall just ahead, crafted as if to recede into the background and escape notice. A stout handle was evident on the door, which he tried without success to open. His attempt however, had gained the attention of whomever was on the other side of the door, for a few moments later it opened and a very cranky-looking wizard peered out at them.

"Oh, it's you," Desmond grumbled, his words distorted by the pipe in his mouth. "Rest assured, your companion is unharmed and—". Valennia interrupted the old mage by shoving the door open and walking casually inside. Following her in, Aiden saw Sayana sitting at a chair in the centre of a small room, with Dean Webber looking on with interest.

A table in front of her was littered with scrolls and books, some of which had been burned to a cinder. The chamber itself seemed to be more of a workshop or office than anything else, and a large bench upon which rested several curious objects dominated the far wall.

"Mister Wainwright, we've been expecting you," Webber greeted him with a smug grin. "Your lovely young friend here is most intriguing."

"Are you okay Sy?" Aiden asked, ignoring the cheerful wizard for the moment. Despite appearing somewhat harried, she seemed unharmed.

"I am well, though I do not care to be treated like some sort of oddity," she answered, directing her complaint at the wizards offhandedly. "Does your arrival mean I can leave now?"

"In due course, my dear," Webber assured her. "You must understand — this is the first chance we've had to examine a sorceress up close, with the added benefit of not being utterly destroyed in the process. You are quite remarkable my dear, and your co-operation will advance the understanding of wild magics for the University."

"A priest I recently spoke to mentioned a dangerous sorcerer who, long ago, required the aid of the Church to deal with," Aiden remarked, reluctant to indulge them but having a genuine concern about this topic.

"Ah yes, we're all familiar with him around here," Desmond supplied, puffs of smoke emanating from his pipe. "Dreadful chap. From what I've read, he was quite mad and unleashed terrible destruction upon the realm before he was finally beaten by Sir Marcus Elward."

"Rest assured, we do not believe Sayana is anything like that," Dean Webber was quick to point out. "Records show that wild magic typically manifests in similar ways amongst those that have been known to possess it, and understanding more about such things now will aid in any future encounters. Please, let us induldge our scholarly impulses a while longer."

"Just a few minutes I'm afraid," Aiden responded. "We have important work to do and Sayana has been an important part of our team."

"Of course, we'll wrap this up in a moment," Webber assured her. Desmond turned to an old book and flipped through the pages, stopping now and then to examine a few lines of ancient writing.

"Aiden, I am hungry and bored," Valennia stated. "If you no longer wish to break your friend out of here, I will take my leave."

"Yes, go and have a meal," Aiden advised, conscious of the eyes of both wizards glaring at the back of his head. "Try not to get into a fight on your way out."

"I will try, Aiden," she complained before stepping outside the door and walking away.

"Planning on a break-out, were you?" Desmond smirked.

"Well, as a last resort perhaps," Aiden replied sheepishly.

"I'm flattered," Sayana remarked dryly, "but this wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. I've actually learned a thing or two."

"I do love to teach," Webber conceded.

"You know Harold, I think I've found a correlation here," Desmond mused, still focused on the book.

"Hm?" Dean Webber murmured absently, lost in his own thoughts.

"The records of all these sorcerers go back over two hundred years," Desmond explained. "Since we've had no such occurrences for some time, sorcery hasn't been a primary subject of study with the University."

"Understandably so," Harold agreed. "What is your point?"

"After examining these records, it seems clear to me they were elves, every single one of them," Desmond explained. "There isn't really a detailed description of each individual, but certain characteristics are quite prominent — the pointed ears, the tall, lean musculature, and the almond-shaped eyes. I fear the record-keepers of the day were quite lax in their duties."

"Are you suggesting that all sorcerers are elvish?" Harold mused.

"The ones that were running roughshod over the Kingdom in years past, yes," Desmond confirmed between puffs. "Although, our young friend here doesn't seem to fit any of those descriptions." The old wizard stepped forward and, on what must have been a wild guess, pushed aside Sayana's unruly mop of red hair to reveal one of her slightly pointed ears. She reflexively brushed the hand away, having been caught off guard by the gesture, but both mages had seen the shape of her ear and Desmond looked to his counterpart in triumph.

"Remarkable," Harold murmured to himself. "I wonder if being a half-breed will have an influence on her power."

"Those earlier tests demonstrated she isn't drawing power from her surroundings," Desmond added. "I think the diluted blood may well be part of that reason. Fascinating."

"How is that fascinating?" Sayana asked dangerously.

"Those like you in the past, bearing your sort of markings and abilities were unable to control the vast amounts of power at their disposal," Desmond explained, "and inflicted considerable damage to everything around them. If you are only half-elven, this might not prove to be the case. Honestly, I'm just guessing here but the facts are slowly coming together."

"That means we don't perceive you as a threat, in case you were wondering," Dean Webber added condescendingly. "Tell me, which of your parents was elvish?"

"My mother," Sayana replied quietly. "I remember little about her, but I do recall that she had tattoos similar to the markings I bear."

"I wonder if other sorcerers of note also had tattoos similar to hers," Desmond mused to Harold, gesturing at the markings barely visible under the sleeves of her shirt. An idea seemed to spring into Harold's mind, for his eyes lit up at the suggestion.

"You know who these remind me of? Terinus," he stated, receiving a surprised look from Desmond and one of confusion from Sayana and Aiden.

"What is a Terinus?" Sayana asked warily.

"Who, my dear, who," Desmond corrected. "He is the king's personal wizard, and one of the most accomplished practitioners of magic in the entire realm. I caught a glimpse of tattoos similar to yours on his arm after he had been wounded, a few years ago."

"Perhaps this man has some answers then?" Sayana asked, a sparkle of hope in her eyes.

"He would be very interested in meeting you, were he not accompanying His Majesty on his campaign in the west," Harold explained. "I am sorry, but if you are still here when he returns, I will arrange a meeting." With that, both wizards turned to their respective notes and began scribbling down information. Sayana gave Aiden an imploring look and he agreed that it was time to be going.

"Well you've had ample time to study Sayana's capabilities," he said, "and since you've concluded she isn't a risk, perhaps it's time for us to leave."

"Hmm? Yes, of course," Harold replied absently, grabbing a few scrolls from nearby and reading through them. On a reflex, Aiden shifted his vision and saw that they were magical scrolls, and a strange feeling of longing came over him.

It wasn't difficult for him to understand, for ever since this whole business had started, he had been close to death many times over. Making use of the power contained within the arcane writings gave him an edge, and if he were to face any more foes such as they'd met over the past few weeks, he wanted every advantage he could get.

"Say, I don't suppose I could obtain some of those arcane scrolls you have there?" he asked Harold tentatively as Sayana rose from her chair and walked to a nearby table to retrieve her belongings.

"'Obtain'? Do you mean purchase, or are you perhaps seeking some sort of gift from the University?" Harold inquired curiously.

"I could purchase some of them," Aiden clarified, recalling the small sum of wealth at his disposal, held in the local bank. He had the man's full attention now, but Harold seemed very suspicious of his motives.

"And what use would they be to you, sir?" he asked Aiden. "You have no formal training. I'm afraid that these scrolls aren't for use by common folk, as the language is very difficult to learn and one misstep in the reading could have unforeseen consequences for you, and those around you."

"I'm aware of the risks, but I actually have had some training in the field and I've used them before with little—"

"Training? What training?" Desmond interrupted, putting down his quill and glaring at Aiden directly. "To whom were you apprenticed? I have not seen you here in our halls over the past few years, and our numbers are not so great that I would have missed you in classes."

"Well, to be honest, I'm self-taught," he replied honestly.

"Self-taught?" Harold exclaimed incredulously. "Oh, I see. Desmond, what we have here is a hedge wizard."

"What's that?" Sayana asked, looking at Aiden strangely.

"The term describes a peasant wizard, usually a commoner who stumbles across some old books and tries to teach himself, usually at the cost of his own life," Desmond explained. "My dear boy, you're lucky to still have all of your limbs attached if you've been going around reading incantations from scrolls like these."

"I had a few hiccups, but I've managed pretty well so far, actually," Aiden said defensively, not pleased at being referred to as a hedge wizard. He knew enough about "peasant wizards" to realise proper wizards used the term pejoratively. "I've mostly studied artefacts and magical lore, as well as the language itself."

"I see," Harold nodded condescendingly. "I'm very sorry, but regardless of how well you might think you understand such things, I cannot allow you to make use of these scrolls for your own safety, as well as the safety of those around you. Our students here train for a solid ten years before we let them at things like this, you know," he added, patting the pile of parchments next to him. The wizard then turned to look at the table as if he'd forgotten something, and glanced at the objects lying around.

"Is there something wrong?" Aiden asked, trying to cover up his disappointment and anger at being dismissed as an untrained simpleton.

"Nothing, nothing really," Harold replied absently, "I'm just missing one of my enchanted rings, is all. Never mind, it'll show up! I'd forget my own nose if it wasn't attached to the front of my face." One of the objects on the table looked familiar to Aiden — a sceptre with crystals and gemstones encrusted in the head of it. He blinked in disbelief, for it was the same sceptre he had left behind at the Battle of Culdeny.

"Where did you get that sceptre?" he asked quietly.

"I brought it along," Sayana replied, carefully sheathing her axe over her back. "I figured it was too valuable to just leave lying around."

"I concur with your assessment, miss," Desmond stated, blowing smoke in Aiden's direction with a spark in his eyes. "Wait a moment — did you use this sceptre prior to its arrival here?"

"I used it to help rescue the princess from her captors, yes," Aiden replied as he waved away the smoke, hoping to impress the wizards with the magnitude of the task he had accomplished with his "peasant skills".

"Good Lord, no wonder it's all bent out of shape. It's not a club, young man! This goes to show you what we mean by proper training — you broke a perfectly decent artefact, and quite a powerful one from what I could ascertain."

"Can you fix it?" Sayana asked curiously while Aiden struggled to find the words to answer the old wizard.

"Most likely, though it will take quite a lot of time on my part, and I haven't even begun to calculate the expense of replacing these crystals," Desmond complained. "You clearly have some talent for breaking priceless artefacts, sir."

"Yes, I suppose I do," Aiden mumbled, feeling humiliated before the sort of people whose approval he silently craved. He'd read about wizards and magic for years, but never had the opportunity to join their ranks. "I think we're done here, Sy. Let's go." He turned to follow her out the door, wondering why on earth Salinder had told him to speak with Desmond, for the man was a cantankerous old crank. But considering the unreliable nature of such minds, Aiden felt compelled to make one last attempt to speak with him about it. "Are you sure the name 'Salinder' means nothing to you, Desmond?"

"There it is again, 'Salinder'," Desmond grumbled. "You really have a stake in selling those damn bevelling planes, don't you? Well, I suppose it behoves me to help you keep a roof over your head since you don't seem to have any aptitude for magic. I will take three of these 'salinders' of which you speak Aiden, but I expect a bulk discount."

Aiden stared dejectedly at the old mage for a moment in disbelief, and then simply shook his head and walked out the door without saying a word, hoping to put this whole experience behind him.

"Next time, I'll just let Val take care of situations like this," Aiden growled as they descended the stairs. "That must have been unpleasant for you, being stuck in there with those idiots."

"They're smarter than you think," Sayana confided in him, "but their minds do tend to wander." She held her hand out towards him, as if offering him something. Looking down, Aiden gasped when he saw that she had a whole sheaf of arcane parchments in her hand.

"When did you find the time to grab all these?" Aiden asked, looking around furtively to make sure they weren't being followed.

"When I was putting my equipment on and you were talking to them about scrolls, strangely enough," she explained with a faint smile on her full lips. "As I said, their minds tend to wander."

"Sy, you're a treasure," Aiden laughed quietly, accepting the gift eagerly as they headed towards the large doors leading outside.

Half of the compound had been cordoned off while men were clearing the remains of the rubble and as such, the University grounds were almost devoid of people. Outside the gates however, the narrow streets were packed with citizenry going about their daily business, oblivious to the events of that morning.

Aiden wended his way through as best he could, looking for the path of least resistance with Sayana following in his wake. By the time they reached the inn, he was beginning to understand the virtues of a country life, for the smell of so many people living in a small space was rather 'bracing', to say the least. Sayana must have been holding her breath, for when they stepped inside the Fair Maiden she gasped and leaned against the wall, breathing heavily.

"Are you alright?" Aiden asked out of concern.

"I'm not so used to crowds, is all," she answered. "I'm still getting used to this place."

"Of course, I understand," Aiden assured her before his attention was caught by a cry of triumph from across the room. Valennia had thrust her fist into the air and called out to them, obviously expressing her joy over retrieving Sayana from the tower as if it had been some sort of challenge. The inn wasn't particularly crowded at this time of day, but most of the nearby patrons looked at her with varying expressions of disbelief.

As he walked over to their table, there was one issue about her that he couldn't resolve and it was something he was going to address right away.

"Val, I understand your people have a deep distrust of those that use magic, and yet you don't seem to share that prejudice. Why is that?"

"I used to think that way, Aiden," she explained, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "When I was exiled from akora, I found the world beyond our borders intimidating and strange. Yet, in my first encounter with men of violence, a passing robed man offered me his assistance, in the form of strange magics that paralysed my foes and allowed me to finish them off quickly."

"You didn't find that dishonourable?" Maggie asked cynically, seated at the table next to Nellise.

"The greatest honour is victory," Valennia replied stridently. "Although sceptical of this frail young man at first, I soon discovered he was not the monster I had been taught from childhood to believe all magicians were. I am very open-minded by the standards of my people, so I rewarded his efforts with a night of ceaseless passion in the forest."

"Is that right," Aiden remarked with a suppressed grin, wondering if the poor chap had survived before noticing Sayana walking over to join them finally. "You know, Sayana originally came from Akora as well, though I doubt the two of you ever met."

"Yes, I hear a familiar accent to her voice," Valennia divulged. "Though I do not know her, I will drink with her as if she were my own sister. Come, and we shall talk of home, and the miles between."

"I don't drink," Sayana replied weakly, obviously unsure if she wanted to endure the friendship of this loud woman.

"Then you shall learn," Val beamed, putting her arm around Sayana's shoulder and gently moving her in the direction of the bar. Content to speak with Nellise for the moment, he pulled up a chair and slumped into it.

"Quite a busy morning, yes?" Maggie observed wryly.

"I trust Nellise has explained what happened in the cathedral?" he asked, receiving a quick nod in reply. "I had some difficulty with the wizards at the University. It turns out they don't hold amateur practitioners in high regard."

"I sense you have a knack for understatement there, Aiden," Maggie replied, sipping from a small cup that still seemed too big for her tiny hands.

"You could say that," Aiden sighed. "What a first day we've had, though. As soon as Ronan wakes up, I'll need to talk to him about some of his contacts to get us back on track."

"That reminds me," Maggie interjected, "what was that Salinder thing you mentioned earlier?" Aiden tensed up a little, not sure how much he should explain, having forgotten that their new little friend seemed to have a sharp mind and an excellent memory.

"Oh, nothing important," Aiden said as casually as he could manage. "It was a word I came across in my studies, and I thought Desmond might have some inkling about its meaning."

"I see," Maggie replied easily, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms. Nellise, having not said a word thus far, also gave Aiden a scrutinizing look.

"I don't know why you lied about that just now, Aiden," the cleric remarked, "but I hope it isn't something we should know about, for our own safety."

"I'm sorry," Aiden replied hastily, realizing his mistake, "it's something rather personal to me, but I swear it's no danger to you or anyone else, for that matter. I was just looking for an explanation."

"Well that was the truth, at least," Maggie observed.

"What, you too?" Aiden asked incredulously.

"Our faiths are not as different as you might think," Maggie explained as if reading his thoughts. "We've been talking a little while we were waiting for you, and it turns out we have some things in common."

"Which is to say that we agree to disagree on a lot of issues," Nellise corrected her counterpart.

"When you get right down to it, the core ideals are the same," Maggie contested.

"What you call a god of nature, I just call God," Nellise pressed, apparently picking up where they'd left off an earlier discussion. "You are praying to the same deity, Margaret, you just don't realise it."

"So, what are you going to do now?" Aiden asked curiously.

"I honestly don't know, at least in terms of how my work with the Church will continue." She seemed sad and reflective, not surprising given the sudden change in her life.

"What about joining a different Chapter?" Aiden suggested.

"I briefly considered that option," Nellise replied. "The other two Chapters only differ from the Heralds in location, not principles, with the exception of the Penitent Sisters and their vow of celibacy which I find a little extreme."

This made Aiden blink in surprise, for the way she spoke indicated that her previous chapter did not have the restriction, news that Pacian would find very interesting.

"Can you stay with the church, but remain independent of the other chapters?" Maggie asked curiously.

"For a time, I may remain an Errant Priest, though I will eventually be asked to choose a path or leave the faith altogether," Nellise replied solemnly. Aiden wasn't happy to see her like this — indecisive, sad and without purpose. Her bravery and faith were the sole reason he was still alive at this point. She must have sensed he was gazing at her, for she looked up at him and they locked eyes for a long moment.

"What?" Aiden asked, starting to blush from the scrutiny.

"What is it you think I should do?" she asked him.

"You're asking my opinion because you value my input as a friend, or because you think God sent me to help you?"

"It can be both," she answered with a slight smile. One of these days, Aiden was going to have to disabuse her of the notion he met God, because sooner or later it was going to cause them some real problems. He wasn't sure Archon Price had actually told her his thoughts on Aiden's so-called divinity, but for now, she needed advice, and he had some for her.

"Keep doing what you've been doing, but with no regrets," he told her after a moment's consideration. "You've followed your heart this far, and although it might seem difficult for you, I can't fault any of your decisions up to this point. Don't pay too much attention to the politics of the Church. I'm sure His Holiness did what he needed to do for the sake of appearances. God is still answering your prayers, right?" She nodded meekly. "Then how can you question the direction you're heading in?"

"Nicely put," Maggie remarked. Nellise nodded slowly and a faint smile creased her beautiful face.

"That was some very poignant advice," she said. "It was almost as if it were divinely inspired."

"It's just me talking here," Aiden suggested, slightly embarrassed. "Give it some thought, okay? I'm going to get a drink." Making his way to the bar, he spotted Pacian staring intently a glass of amber liquid.

"So how are the ladies?" he asked as Aiden pulled up a stool beside him.

"They're doing well, and Nellise seems to be taking the change of career in her stride," he replied, looking at the tall pitcher of amber liquid sitting on the bench. "How are you faring?"

"I'll be better once this pitcher is empty," he explained, pouring more of it into a tall glass and taking a long swig. "If I never see the dead walking around again, it'll be too soon. I swear I've never been so scared in my entire life. Here, have a drink with me."

"I guess one or two wouldn't hurt," Aiden reluctantly agreed. "Nellise wanted me to tell you that she's sorry she hasn't been very talkative of late. For that matter, where do you two stand at the moment anyway?"

"I've been giving her space," Pacian told him. "She needed to get her head sorted out, and I didn't want to be telling her 'I told you so' while she was coping with it all."

"That's very gentlemanly of you, but I couldn't help but notice that you're talking in the past tense," Aiden observed as he took a sip of his beer.

"As soon as I've had a couple more," Pacian blustered, "I'm going to tell her how I really feel about her, straight to her face and see where we go from there."

"That's a bold move. What's changed?"

"Looking death in the face, literally," Pacian replied with a haunted look. "Have another drink."

"I'm not much of a drinker, and you know it. Neither are you, for that matter."

"I'm hoping that should make it easier to get drunk," Pacian explained. "Come on, Aiden, we fought the undead today. Have a drink with me," he insisted, pouring some more beer into Aiden's glass.

Chapter Eleven

A pounding sensation in his head brought Aiden back to consciousness, although it was some time before he remembered how to open his eyes. The sound of someone groaning nearby could be heard, and the noise made him nauseous.

Unsure of where he was or why he was feeling so terrible, Aiden looked around with bleary eyes, noting that he seemed to be inside his room at the inn. Light was streaming in through the window, blinding him and making the room spin. Actually, the room was spinning anyway, and it was all he could do to hold on to the mattress with both hands to prevent himself from being thrown off.

Eventually, the room settled down and Aiden celebrated by throwing up into the chamber pot nearby. He even managed to get some of it on target. He slumped down on the floor afterwards, reaching over with unsteady hands to grab a pitcher of water that was sitting on the small table near his bed. A few minutes later, he was starting to feel a little better, so he rose unsteadily to his feet and tidied up his hair.

This was his first experience at getting drunk, and he failed to see the appeal. Flickering images of the previous evening flashed through his mind, but none of them made any sense. Across the room, Pacian was still in his bed, drifting in and out of a restless sleep and snoring loudly.

Aiden's hearing was playing tricks on him, for the snoring emanating from Pacian's bed seemed to be echoing. Peering closely at his bed, Aiden realised there was actually someone else under the blankets with him. It was only when they rolled over that Aiden saw Valennia amidst the tangle of blankets.

Shaking his head in amazement at his old friend, Aiden left Pacian to his fate and staggered out the door, heading down to the washroom. He poured a bucket of fresh water into a tub and dunked his head into the icy cold water to shock himself back to sobriety.

The sound of people chatting casually in the common room swept over him as he walked through the door making the walk over to the bar more challenging than it should have been. He gingerly sat down on one of the stools and ordered some stew, silently hoping it was going to stay down.

"You're looking worse for wear, mate," Ronan suddenly said, having sat down next to him without being noticed.

"Don't shout," Aiden begged, clutching at his head, drawing a quiet laugh from the laconic sailor.

"I wasn't. First time, huh?" he remarked, receiving a slight nod from Aiden in reply. "Yeah I don't remember my first time either. Anyway, I've got some important news for you."

"Can it wait?" Aiden rasped as his breakfast was presented by a waitress who was looking at him strangely.

"If it could wait, it wouldn't be important," Ronan replied, looking around to make sure no one else was listening. "While you and your friends were drinking, I went out and made contact with a few old... well I wouldn't call them friends as such, but you get what I mean."

"Anyway, they weren't too interested in telling me much of anything, 'cause since I joined the navy they think I'm practically one of the authorities. But I did manage to wring the general location of the guild's headquarters out of them, so we need to get down there and talk with them before they find out I've been looking."

"Down there?" Aiden echoed between careful sips of stew. So far, so good, he thought.

"The sewers, or 'aqueducts' if you're so inclined," Ronan clarified. "Back in my day, we had a nice warehouse we worked out of, but I guess times are hard for the guild and they've had to go underground. Pun intended."

"Do we actually have to wade through—"

"No, there's a path along the edge of the 'river'," Ronan assured him. "Bit smelly, but that's part of the reason why it's such a good place to hide.

Aiden nodded, rubbing his temples and praying for his head to stop pounding. "Have you heard what happened yesterday?"

"Yep, Sayana told me all about it," Ronan replied casually. "I offered her the comfort of my company last night, but she turned me down." Aiden felt a flash of jealousy go through his mind, but he quickly dismissed it.

"Right, well, you know about Alan Leonson then?" he asked.

"Mostly, yeah," Ronan shrugged, leaning back against the bar. "He'd apparently borrowed heavily from some shady types, and they forced him to do some work for them. Word is he was trying to sell some stolen relics of the magical kind to the guild, though the deal fell through at the last minute."

"That's not surprising, and those people have a connection to the assassin's that have returned to the city."

"Maybe not directly," Ronan said, scratching his chin thoughtfully. "Whoever is pulling the strings on this puppet show may have brought him in separately. Poor bastard probably didn't even know why he had to blow up the pavement, and I bet the assassins didn't know he was behind it either."

"What makes you think that?" Aiden grated, his voice sounding gravellier than it used to be.

"If I was in charge, I wouldn't want any one group of employees knowing who else was in on the job," Ronan explained. "Less chance of it falling apart that way."

"Okay, just let me finish up here and we'll head out. Is everyone else ready?"

"There's no sign of Val or Pacian," Ronan answered with a shrug.

"We won't be seeing him out of bed for a few more hours, I suspect."

"This can't wait," Ronan insisted ominously. "Do we really need them?"

"I guess we can do this without them, sure," Aiden admitted.

"Then we leave in ten minutes. I'll gather the others and let them know what's going on."

"I appreciate that," Aiden thanked him. "Wait, uh, can you tell me what happened last night? The waitress keeps looking at me strangely."

"I left after Sayana turned me down," Ronan replied as he stood up. "Ask Val, she was still conscious when I got back and probably saw the whole thing." Aiden nodded, and then focused on finishing his food. With the addition of some crusty bread, he was satisfied with the meal and then set about checking his gear before walking over to the table where the others were gathering.

Sayana must have held back on her intake, for she didn't appear to be hung-over at all as she sat at the large table, although she did appear a little on edge for some reason Aiden couldn't discern. Maggie was packed and ready to go, though both women looked up at Aiden with barely concealed amusement on their faces.

"Okay, what happened last night?" he sighed, slumping down into a chair.

"There were so many things that happened, it's hard to know which one you're talking about," Maggie suggested slyly.

"You know what? Forget I asked." From across the room, he saw Valennia make her way down the stairs and head towards them, fully equipped and appearing to be completely sober. Maggie and Sayana exchanged a knowing glance, and Aiden was reluctant to ask further questions.

"Look, we're going to try and make contact with some of Ronan's former associates," Aiden continued as Valennia came over to stand beside him. "It involves going down through the sewer system, and I just wanted to let you know that you don't have to come along if you don't want to, because it's not going to be pretty."

"I do not fear this 'sewer' of which you speak," Valennia stated. "But I will not be going anywhere until I receive my daily payment."

"Oh, of course," Aiden said, quickly going through his pouch and producing a silver noble.

"Then you may count upon my steel for this quest, Aiden. May our enemies die horribly at my hands."

"I'm hoping it won't come to that, but it's always good to hear your enthusiasm," Aiden remarked. "What about you two?"

"I'll manage," Maggie shrugged. "I told you I'd help out with your task, and I mean to follow through on it."

"I'll come along if you promise not to try and stick your tongue down my throat, or any waitress for that matter," Sayana stated flatly, causing Valennia and Maggie to burst out laughing.

"I told you I didn't want to hear about it," Aiden groaned, flushing red with embarrassment.

"You Aielund men are very strange," Valennia said with a curious look. "You talk with such bravado, but then cannot perform when the times comes." Maggie burst out laughing again, and Sayana couldn't help but join in, prompting Aiden to consider the benefits of joining a monastic order.

"Wait, does that mean that you and Pace...?" he asked, suddenly realising her full meaning.

"The pretty blond boy challenged me to a drinking match," the Akoran warrior explained, "but after five drinks he was barely able to stand. Nonetheless, he propositioned me and I accepted his offer, but upon reaching the bed he collapsed and fell asleep almost immediately. I was not impressed." Aiden and the ladies present shared a laugh at Pacian's expense, but quietened down when Ronan returned with Nellise in tow.

"Not a word of this to Nellise, okay?" Aiden whispered to the others, who agreed to keep it between themselves.

"Sir William won't be joining us," Nellise said with some sadness as she placed her helmet on the table. She was otherwise fully armoured and evidently not ashamed of it anymore. "His bones are taking longer to mend that he'd hoped for."

"Even with all the healing power under that roof?" Aiden asked, frowning.

"The healing energy we channel speeds up the natural process," Nellise explained. "At Sir William's age, his natural healing is a good deal slower than yours."

"Is he otherwise okay, though?"

"He is in high spirits," Nellise assured him, "and it took some convincing to persuade him to remain at rest. I am confident he will be on his feet again by tomorrow, more than ready to serve."

"Alright Ronan, why don't you take the lead on this one?" Aiden offered as he stood up, with the rest of the ladies following suit.

"Is this likely to be a dangerous journey?" Maggie asked as she checked her small sword.

"We'll only run into trouble if Ronan left the guild on bad terms, right?" Aiden suggested, looking to Ronan for an answer. The sailor gave him a blank look for a long moment before speaking.

"Yeah... yeah that's right. Don't worry, these people are thieves, not thugs," he finally answered. For some reason Aiden wasn't entirely convinced.

* * *

The day was clear and cold as they walked along the snow-covered streets of Fairloch, and Aiden was forced to squint against the intense light from the cloudless sky. Ronan led the way through the crowded streets, but managed to keep Sayana close by so he could point out features of interest.

Despite rebuffing his earlier attempts, the wild girl seemed to be more relaxed in his presence, so the cunning sailor might actually be making some headway in his campaign. After nearly ten minutes of walking, it occurred to Aiden that they could probably have gone down one of the numerous drainage covers they'd passed.

"Are we taking the scenic route?" Aiden asked of Ronan.

"Not on purpose, if that's what you're wondering," he shrugged. "Think of it as a fortunate coincidence."

"We've passed plenty of entrances."

"The information I was acquired is quite specific," the sailor explained, "and we have to start from the correct location, or it's worthless. Don't worry, we're nearly there."

Satisfied, Aiden dropped back to walk alongside Maggie, although part of him desperately wanted to listen in on what Ronan and Sayana were discussing.

They passed through the gates leading into the docklands, and then took a sharp left turn down a narrow alleyway, ending the unofficial tour of the city. The clamouring noise of thousands of people receded into the background as they moved in-between buildings, most of which seemed to be as old as the city itself.

After a few minutes of moving through the maze of alleyways, Ronan brought them to a stop at a large grating on the stone ground. It was larger than the others they had come across, and looking through the tight metal bars Aiden could make out a narrow ladder descending into the darkness below.

"This is the place," the sailor declared, looking at the unassuming grate with his typical mild interest.

"How can you be sure your contact didn't lie to you?" Aiden inquired cynically. "Maybe he just wants you to waste your time."

"He tried that at first, but I wasn't fooled," Ronan explained casually. "It took a bit of doing, but trust me — in the end, I got the truth."

"I don't think I like the sound of that," Nellise remarked sourly.

"Then don't listen," Ronan advised in the same even tone, then crouched down and lifted the grate, propping it up with a short metal pole that was sitting just underneath the surface. He then stepped onto the ladder and made his way down into the darkness.

The sounds of rushing water filled his ears and the noise echoed off the tunnels into the distance, but it was the stench that caught Aiden's attention and flooded his senses. He had expected it to be bad, but not quite this bad. The unique aroma, combined with his pounding headache and unsettled stomach began to react in new and interesting ways, and he promptly threw up into the river of waste, conveniently located only a few feet away.

"Don't worry, I did plenty of that when I first started moving around down here," Ronan confided, his breath misting in the chilly air. Aiden was a little too preoccupied to respond, but he appreciated the sentiment. By the time he had finished, the ladies had descended and were gathered nearby, waiting for him.

"Sorry about that," he apologised. "If I'd known I'd be coming down here today, I would have eased back on the liquid refreshment last night."

"I find your weakness amusing, Aiden," Valennia stated. "You remind me of the young warriors from my tribe, pretending to be men."

"I'm not paying you for your opinions, Val," Aiden growled, in no mood for her bluntness.

"And you are not paying me to walk around in excrement, either," she countered. "We will have to renegotiate our deal if this is to be a regular occurrence."

"God, I hope not," Aiden muttered. Ronan gave a short chuckle, then turned and started walking along the narrow path that ran beside the turgid waters. Nellise whispered a short prayer and a glowing nimbus of light appeared in the palm of her hand to light their way.

Ronan carefully led them along the path, continuing straight past several intersections in the tunnel before deciding to turn left. This entailed jumping across the river to get on the walkway on the other side, something Aiden found was almost as frightening as facing the undead.

"This place brings back some memories," Ronan sighed after agilely leaping across the water. "Be careful — they're not happy memories."

"I'm not even going to ask," Aiden replied absently, focused on not slipping on the slick surface. Sayana and Nellise made it across without incident, but Maggie found the jump to be far more challenging.

Their path wended back and forth, and they only had to perform a river crossing twice more. The shadows shifted and moved eerily as they travelled, and rats could be seen skittering around at the edge of the light which seemed to unsettle the raelani druid more than anyone else.

"I thought you liked animals," Aiden remarked as she gave a loud squeal at the sight of a particularly large rodent swimming through the water.

"Except rats," she replied emphatically, keeping as close to the wall as she could. "They're dreadful things, not at all pleasant to be around."

"That one looked like it could eat you whole," Valennia laughed, amused by her fear.

"Don't even joke about it," Maggie hissed.

"Keep it quiet," Ronan said in a low voice. "Rats aren't the only unpleasant thing running around down here." That was enough to quell the conversation and redirect their attention to their surroundings, mindful for anything odd moving in the shadows. They'd been walking along the narrow walkways for nearly twenty minutes through this foul place when the tunnel opened out into a larger chamber filled with pipes of varying sizes, and Ronan finally stopped to look around as if expecting to find something.

"This is the place," he told them. "Look around for anything shaped like a door." They began searching carefully on both sides of the channel for a door, but the filth-encrusted walls refused to give up their secrets.

"Maybe there's a hidden switch," Aiden mused aloud after a few minutes of fruitless searching.

"My source wasn't too specific on that part," Ronan mused. "But it's worth a try."

"There are tracks in the dirt here," Sayana observed, crouching on the ground for a close look. "Many tracks that go in all directions."

"Anything recent?" Valennia asked, moving in to look for herself.

"It is difficult to tell, for there are far too many to discern any sort of pattern."

Ronan peered over at the area of the floor they were looking at, then knelt down and started pushing aside the muck to the stone underneath.

"Thought so," he muttered as he cleared enough away to reveal something protruding from the stone. "Pressure plate. If you'd stepped on this, something unpleasant would have happened to you, probably involving sharp implements."

"I see you've still got your wits about you, Nighthawk," came a deep, rough voice from the shadows nearby. Aiden and the others whirled around to face the newcomer, but saw only a tangle of rusty metal pipes on the wall. "Can't figure why you're down here, though."

"Just missing the good old days," Ronan replied cautiously, glancing around sharply to try and spot their observer.

"So life in the navy isn't all it's cracked up to be?" the voice mocked.

"Yeah that's it," Ronan agreed. "Can't stand all the money and power, and the women, I mean, a man needs some time to catch his breath. Why don't you open the door and I'll tell you some more about it?" To Aiden's surprise, that's just what the unknown speaker did.

A section of wall behind all the pipes opened inwards, and it became instantly obvious that the pipes were merely a disguise, for they had been sawed off to match the edge of the door, and swung inwards with it, revealing a shadowy man wearing a longcoat and gloves, whose face was obscured by the hood on his coat.

"Perry has been expecting someone from up top, but he's gonna be surprised when it turns out to be you," the thief remarked, amusement in his voice.

"Perry's the guild master now?" Ronan asked as he stepped through the door.

"You got a problem with that?"

"Nah, I have warm fuzzy feelings for the little guy," Ronan drawled, "I just forgot to bring a basket of puppies and kittens." The thief bellowed with laughter that echoed off the walls.

"Oh, it's good to have you back 'hawk," he chortled, "Sorry about the accommodation. Things have been a bit tough of late. Just watch your step around here."

"We're in a sewer — of course I'm watching my step," Ronan remarked, drawing another laugh from the thief. Aiden allowed the ladies to go first — Valennia, more specifically — and then brought up the rear just before the door was closed behind him.

A short passageway wended through a series of thick pipes and opened out into a large, open chamber with decaying foundation columns rising to the ceiling. Light streamed in through grates above, and Aiden realised they must be located right beneath one of Fairloch's streets.

The chamber was only a hundred feet across, yet a few dozen people were lying around on shabby bedrolls and chairs — some sleeping, some leaning against the wall. Aiden and his companions were the subject of mild scrutiny by the more alert occupants as they walked through, but for the most part, the people here seemed uninterested in their arrival.

The exceptions to this were the more visibly dangerous members of the guild, who wore numerous daggers and short swords on their belts and glared at Aiden and his companions with obvious mistrust.

The smell of the sewers was less intense here, but it had been replaced with the odours of unwashed bodies. If this was the headquarters of the guild of thieves, they didn't look like they were doing all that well with the 'thieving' part.

"I smell disease in here," Nellise whispered to Aiden. "Some of these people are quite ill."

"Can you do something about it?" Aiden replied in equally hushed tones. "It might help ingratiate us to their guild leader.

"I have some herbs that will help mild cases, but from the intensity of the smell, I think many of them are too far gone already." Aiden couldn't think of anything else to say, so he kept his silence. He'd had a glimpse of life in the wealthier sections of the city that was far above the simple country towns he'd grown up in, but the flip side of that opulence was here before him. An underclass of poor, struggling to scrape by on whatever they could find left over from society.

A little girl, her long dark hair matted and dirty, ran up to them as they approached the centre of the chamber. She couldn't have been more than ten years old, and her large eyes looked up at him with tarnished innocence.

"Please sir, I'm so sick and hungry," she spoke with a weak voice. Although she was covered in shabby clothes, Aiden had the distinct impression she was a tiny waif underneath. "Can you spare a coin or three? I haven't eaten anything all day and I'm so cold." Aiden's heart went out to the little girl, and he reached down to his coin pouch and pulled out a silver noble. Before he could pass it to her, Maggie put a restraining hand on his and pushed it back.

"Oh, you poor thing," she crooned, stepping in front of Aiden to stand practically eye-to-eye with the girl. "How did you come to be living down here?"

"My parents went away on a trip, and I didn't have anyone to look after me so I had to steal food to survive," the girl explained, sniffling.

"Your parents abandoned you?" Nellise asked, aghast at the thought.

"No! They'll be back soon, they promised," she assured them with eyes as round as saucers. "I just need a little money for food and medicine until they get back." Aiden felt terrible about her plight. Once more, he tried to hand her some money, but Maggie stopped him yet again. She had her arms crossed as she gazed straight at the girl, who looked like she was on the verge of tears under such scrutiny.

"You're really good, you know that?" Maggie finally remarked. "I mean, have you ever thought of taking up acting? I'm sure you'd make a lot more money than this nonsense brings in."

"There are precious little acting jobs to be had for raelani in Fairloch," the girl sighed in a much stronger voice. Aiden blinked in astonishment as her entire body language changed from 'waifish castaway of society' to 'confident woman who happens to look like a little girl'. "I wouldn't have bothered trying if I'd seen you first, but can you blame me? Look at this one — he's from the country, wearing his heart on his sleeve, ready to help the oppressed with that fat sack of coins on his belt. How could I resist?"

"You're posing as a little girl?" Aiden stated incredulously.

"My my, he really is a little slow, isn't he," the girl continued with an impish grin.

"Not as slow as you might think," Maggie suggested. "I can't say I approve of what you're doing, but if you underestimate people like this, you're going to run into trouble sooner or later."

"Thanks for the advice, but I think I can handle myself," the girl winked, pulling aside her oversized clothes to reveal a nasty looking dagger in her belt. Ronan, who had missed the entire exchange, stepped back in at this point.

"Okay, I think that's enough of that, Sparky," he ordered. "These people are here on important business, and they like their money right where it is."

"Nighthawk!" the woman apparently called 'Sparky' cried. "I knew you'd be back some day."

"Just visitin'," Ronan replied flatly. "Come on, Aiden, I'll introduce you to the boss."

"Your name is Sparky?" Maggie asked her.

"Simone, actually. And you are?"

"Margaret. Why did he call you Sparky just now?" the raelani druid pressed.

"Why does everyone call him Nighthawk?" Sparky countered, raising a fingertip, from which a small tongue of flame burst, demonstrating the native magical talents of the raelani. "I can't hang around here all day answering questions sweetie, I have to go make a living."

"Doing what, exactly?" Aiden asked.

"Crime, of course," Sparky shrugged, "So if you'll excuse me..." the raelani thief disappeared into the crowd of society's cast-offs, leaving Aiden and the others bemused from the encounter.

"I know what you're all thinking, but she does not represent my people," Maggie muttered as Ronan gestured them onwards. "Why do they call you 'Nighthawk', Ronan?"

"I see real well at night," he replied. "Eyes like a hawk, y'know."

"That's it?"

"Yep." A long moment went by without further embellishment.

"The rest of you go on without me," Nellise said, looking around her at the sea of humanity. "I'm going to do what I can to help some of these people."

"I'll give you a hand," Maggie offered.

"Okay, just be careful," Aiden advised, receiving a perfunctory nod from the two women as Nellise knelt down to talk to a sad looking woman wearing little more than rags. Aiden's attention was caught by the sound of someone nearby clapping very slowly.

Looking ahead, he saw a number of heavily armed men in longcoats standing around a male raelani, sitting on an oversized chair adorned with exquisite carvings. It was the small man who was clapping, a sound filled with mockery and derision.

"So, you finally made it here," he called in his small voice. "Full marks for completion, but a big fat zero for effort, longshanks."

"This place wasn't exactly easy to find," Aiden replied as they walked over to his "throne".

"That's no excuse, 'cause you've had someone helping you out," their diminutive leader said. "Long time no see, Nighthawk."

"Hi Perry," Ronan answered, coming to a stop with one foot placed on the dais the chair rested upon. "I like your new home. It's got a certain lack of charm about it."

"I gotta admit, you've got guts standing before me and showing me no respect," Perry growled in a voice that would have been more threatening if he wasn't so small.

"Yeah well, village idiots like you scare the hell out of me," Ronan continued mildly. "If you start doing cartwheels and telling ribald jokes, I'm out of here." Perry visibly tensed, and the three, armed men by his side put their hands on the hilts of their weapons.

"Glib, as always," Perry said, his voice little more than a terse whisper. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't have you killed right now."

"I'll give you one," Aiden stated. "Ronan is helping me out with an important investigation, so if you try to kill him, I'll let my friend here break most of your bones." He hiked his thumb over his shoulder, gesturing at Valennia.

"I would like that," she remarked while cracking her knuckles, towering over the raelani.

"I don't like being threatened in my own house," Perry observed, peering up at the Akoran woman without much enthusiasm. "But I'll let it pass this time, so long as you watch your mouth, 'hawk."

"I can do that," Ronan replied, licking his lips as the bodyguards eased away from their weapons. "Oh, hey there, Vaughn. Has he got you shining his boots now?" he asked of one of the bodyguards.

"He shines his own boots, I'll have you know," Vaughn replied with a chuckle. It was hard to see any details on the man, for he was mostly obscured by his hood. "You best get to the point, 'hawk, you know how impatient he gets."

"Yes, and also how much I hate it when people talk about me as if I'm not sitting right here," Perry growled.

"Just catching up with an old mate," Ronan assured him, then inclined his head in Aiden's direction. "This here is Aiden, and he wasn't lying about working on an investigation before. I was hoping you could help us out with some information."

"Information is a commodity, friend," Perry said to Aiden. "Ordinarily I'd be happy to take your money and send you on your way, but I think I know what you're going to ask of me, and I can't help you."

"How do you know if I haven't asked you any questions yet?" Aiden protested.

"I have eyes everywhere, mate, and some of those eyes saw Princess Criosa being attacked in an alleyway a couple of nights ago. She was carried to the castle by a noble-minded young man fitting your description. You're here to learn the whereabouts of the assassins who have returned to the city, but I'm afraid you don't have enough gold in your pouch to get that secret out of me."

"Sounds like you're scared," Ronan remarked.

"We have a deal with them — we don't bother them and they don't bother us," Perry snapped. "Can't be crossing an organisation of hired killers and expecting to still draw breath, you see. It's not good for business, or continuing to draw breath, for that matter."

"And no amount of coin will change your mind?" Aiden pressed. "What else are you interested in? We can make a deal here."

"It's hard to spend money when you're dead," Perry shrugged. "Look around you, Aiden. Half of the people in this chamber are hiding from the law for petty crimes like stealing food, breaking into people's houses, and only one or two have ever actually killed someone. The other half are just beggars and runaways, or abused women with nowhere else to go. I love the princess as much as the next man, but if I tell you where to find the people you're looking for, the lives of everyone in this room are forfeit."

"I hear the words of a coward coming from your mouth," Valennia stated, "You threaten us at every opportunity, yet behind all that bluster you are weak. Tell us where to find those we seek and I swear to you that they will not live to threaten anyone ever again."

"You mean... you're going to personally kill them all?" Perry exclaimed, and then began to roar with laughter. His guards joined in with him, as did many of the people in the chamber. Aiden waited patiently for this little show to end.

"Take your time, I'm not going anywhere," he remarked loudly enough to be heard. Perry finally lifted his hands and the laughter began to die away.

"Well, we did fight a dragon at the Battle of Culdeny," Ronan pointed out casually, glancing at Aiden.

"And a shipful of pirates on the way here," Aiden added. "Oh, and there were quite a lot of undead monster rising in the cathedral catacombs, they were pretty challenging too I'd say. I'm sorry, were you busy laughing at us?"

"The problem here," Perry explained warily, "is that if you miss even one of them, people are going to die. People like me, for example."

"My violent friend here wasn't lying about our plan to eliminate the assassins," Aiden continued. "The Crown is furious about the attempt on Criosa's life, and they're pulling out all the stops to ensure her safety."

"Which is why they hired a bunch of out-of-towners to do their work for them?" Perry remarked sarcastically. "I know for a fact that the City Watch has been compromised, so they're not likely to get involved. Our mutual friend Mister Kinsey doesn't have the resources to do anything at the moment, so really, it's just going to be you bunch of gits against an organisation of killers."

"Perhaps a demonstration is in order," Aiden offered mildly. "Sy? Could you give him a taste of what they're in for?"

"What, in amongst all these people?" Sayana queried.

"Well, I do see a very high ceiling here," Aiden mused. "Is this place located under a major street?"

"No," Perry replied warily.

"Perfect," Aiden answered, nodding to Sayana. The wild girl shrugged then lifted her arms, and a moment later a pillar of fire shot over ten feet to the ceiling and erupted in mid-air, bathing the entire ceiling in a swirling sea of fire for a long moment. Everyone present cried out in surprise and shock, but quickly settled down again as the fires faded away. Perry's eyes were wide at this display of power, and Aiden managed to hide his smug grin as he awaited the guild master's response.

"Okay, you've got some talent, I'll admit that," he finally said, shifting about on his seat and glancing at Vaughn with uncertainty. "I need to think about this a bit. Head back to your inn and I'll send word up to you soon — that's the best offer I can make right now." Aiden nodded slowly, displeased with his hesitance but understanding the reason for it.

"If it's alright, I'd like to stay here for a while," Nellise said from nearby. "You have a lot of sick people down here, Perry, and I want to do what I can for them."

"I've no complaints about that, dear lady," he replied. "I'm sure they'll be thankful for your efforts, and we'll make sure you get home safely afterwards. Now, the rest of you, get out of my sight. That includes you, 'hawk."

"What, no cuddles?" Ronan complained.

"Don't push your luck," Vaughn counselled before Perry could speak.

"See, this is why I left the guild in the first place — there's just no heart," Ronan added as he quickly moved away from the enraged Perry.

Chapter Twelve

Their journey back through the sewers was brief, a fact Aiden was silently grateful for. Maggie, who had rejoined them as they left, suggested they take the first ladder up to the streets, but Ronan didn't want to be seen so close to the guild's temporary base in case it led the authorities back there. Despite his verbal sparring with the diminutive guild leader, he clearly still had close ties to the organisation and its people in his heart, if not his mind.

They emerged into the brilliant glare of the afternoon sun shining down on the snow-covered cobblestones, in a part of the city Aiden did not recognise. Few people could be seen on the narrow street they now stood upon, so he figured Ronan had chosen this place for its obscurity.

"We're in the southern part of the city, not far from the main gate," the sailor explained to their inquiring looks. "It'll take us about half an hour to get back to the inn from here."

"I think we can figure it out if we need to," Maggie grumbled, rubbing her hands together for warmth. "The first thing I'm going to do is have a bath... and buy new boots."

"Yeah I wasn't going to say anything but you smell pretty bad," Ronan remarked.

"We all stink," Sayana pointed out.

"Bath house it is, then," the sailor replied laconically, leading them around the corner and down the street. Shortly thereafter, Aiden eased himself into a tub of hot water and began to scrub away the grime, as well as the stench of stale alcohol that lingered from the previous night's entertainment.

On the other side of the large tiled chamber, partially obscured by steam, Ronan did the same, even taking off his ever-present bandana to let his long hair soak up the water. Aiden caught sight of several tattoos on Ronan's shoulder and chest, appearing to be an alluring mermaid sitting on a rock. The place was designed for a dozen men to bathe at once, but only three of the other tubs were taken at the moment, occupied by elderly men taking a break from the bitter cold outside.

"This is a bit of alright," Ronan remarked as he eased back in the tub.

"I'm guessing you don't get the chance to do this on board a ship very often," Aiden said.

"Now and then, but it's cold seawater every time. Some of the lads have a genuine aversion to freezing baths but after a while, they start getting a bit pungent so we don't give 'em much of a say in the matter."

"You are both fair and wise," Aiden remarked sagely, drawing a chuckle from the sailor. "So, you grew up on the streets of the city and went around with some of the people we met today?"

"Yep," Ronan answered in his usual laconic manner.

"Rough life."

"Yep."

"The switch to the navy seems like a kind of side step, if you know what I mean," Aiden continued as he stared up at the ceiling.

"Kind of, but with a better view," Ronan answered. "But enough about me and my exciting life of adventure. Where are you from?"

"Coldstream, pretty much in the centre of the Kingdom," Aiden responded, shifting about in the tub to get comfortable.

"What, so, farms and such?" Ronan inquired.

"Mostly, though my family worked with wagons. I actually spent a lot of my teen years reading and researching from every old book about magic I could get my hands on, so I was more of a town boy than a young frontiersman. My father ran the business, and my brothers helped him when they were old enough."

"Must be nice to have family."

"It was," Aiden answered softly. "Mum and Dad are still going strong but Brogan and Kieran died defending a caravan from bandits a few years ago."

"Sorry to hear it mate," Ronan offered in sympathy. "I never had a family, but I had good mates I grew up with who aren't with me anymore. Sort of like family I guess, but they got in over their heads with the wrong people and that was the end of them. It helps if you just remember the good times you had, sort of keeps the best part of them alive."

"That's good advice," Aiden replied, trying to think about the times he'd spent with them.

Long moments passed and still nothing sprang to mind. He could recall the cave he had fallen into, and the day he had been running through the fields before falling into it, but nothing prior to that event. Just... blackness. He became more unsettled by the moment as he struggled to remember anything from his childhood, yet was unable to recall even the simplest thing.

"I think I'm done here," he blurted, rising out of the tub and quickly towelling himself off.

"Suit yourself," Ronan answered, oblivious to Aiden's sudden discomfort. "I'm planning on staying in 'til I'm all wrinkly. See you tomorrow mate."

Aiden quickly dressed and headed outside, finding the cold air a stark contrast to the heat of the bathhouse. Although cleaner than he started, Aiden was certainly unsettled from the discovery that his childhood memories were gone. He arrived back at the Fair Maiden in a bleak mood and found Pacian lounging at one of the tables, clearly nursing a terrible hangover but otherwise conscious. He spied Aiden making his way across the common room and greeted him with a bleary gaze.

"Pace, do you remember what it was like when we were kids?" Aiden asked, getting straight to the point.

"I don't even remember what day it is."

"I'm serious," Aiden continued, leaning forward on the table. "Tell me about some of the things we did together." Pacian scratched his head and seemed to think about it for a moment before speaking.

"Oh, there was that time when your Dad was servicing a wagon out the front of the shop, and you climbed up in it and managed to pull the brake lever," he chuckled. "It went rolling down the hill and you were stuck on the driver's seat, screaming for help. That was hilarious to watch."

"Was I injured?" Aiden asked, feeling as if this were a story being told about another person's life.

"Nah, the wagon went off the road and gradually came to a stop," Pacian grinned. "Missus Granger was running after you in her nightie trying to get you down, which was a whole other kind of funny. Your Dad wasn't even mad at the end of it, either."

"I don't remember it," Aiden remarked sadly.

"What about the time you covered for me after I got caught breaking into the mill?"

"Not a thing."

"That's a shame, you did a really good job of convincing the miller that I was with you the whole time," Pacian sighed. "Ah, what a team we were. I'd steal things, and you'd watch me steal things."

"Not a single thing that happened before the fall in the cave is known to me," Aiden stated grimly.

"Hey, I'm the one with a hangover," Pacian complained, "I should be the one missing large chunks of my memory." Aiden levelled a gaze at him that spoke volumes, causing Pacian's grin to fade. "Well, maybe you hit your head once time too many of late. I mean, you did get hit in the head with an axe, and that can't be good for you. I don't know if you died or not, but maybe that's got something to do with it."

Although Pacian had meant it as an offhand remark, Aiden caught onto the idea — not so much the axe injury itself, but rather what happened to him afterward. It was entirely plausible that his "death" had some unexpected consequences. Sayana's words not long after the event rang through his mind — dragons always exact something in return for their services.

"You look worried," Pacian consoled him in his own unique way. "Here, maybe this will take your mind off... your mind," he added, taking out a small gold ring, the one he found in student's tower.

"What about it?" Aiden asked, taking the ring in one hand.

"You're pretty good with that arcane stuff," Pacian hinted. "Does it do anything interesting?" Aiden looked closer at the ring and allowed his vision to shift, a trick he had learned from Sayana a few weeks ago, revealing a subtle aura of blue energy suffusing it.

"It's definitely special," he surmised, fascinated as always at the prospect of new arcana. "There's a good chance that student Alan stole this from one of the Deans, along with his other acquisitions." He peered closely at the ring, noting tiny runes inscribed around the periphery. There was also some writing on the inside of the loop, and bringing it in closer he was able to make out some sort of activation sigil written there, one that suggested a rather kinetic result.

"So?" Pacian prompted.

"Invoking the ring creates a sort of invisible force," Aiden explained, fitting it over his index finger. He spoke the command word and felt a tingle of power from the ring as its aura flared in his magical sight. He clenched his fist and looked at an empty glass on the table and with a thought, the glass rose a few inches into the air.

"Nifty," Pacian remarked, seeming disappointed at the result as Aiden carefully set the glass back down again.

"I'm being gentle," Aiden murmured, his concentration on the glass. "It can move a lot more than that, but I don't want to make a mess. Plus, rings are too small to retain power for long so it needs to be used sparingly. The University will probably miss this thing so we should probably get it back to them."

"Just think of how useful it could be," Pacian protested. "We need every advantage we can get. If you did return it, I'll probably just ask if we can make use of that to do that thing we're supposed to be doing. Protecting the princess or some such."

"We could certainly use the help," Aiden muttered as he contemplated the ring. "Alright, I'll hang on to it for now."

"Consider it a loan," Pacian added with a comforting nod.

"Ahem," Kinsey suddenly coughed, startling both of them with his appearance next to the table. "A fine pair of spy-hunters you are, allowing an injured man to sneak up on you unnoticed."

"You underestimate yourself," Aiden muttered as his pulse settled down. "What can we do for you?"

"Mister Savidge can remain here, but you need to come with me right now," the spymaster instructed in the manner of one who was accustomed to being obeyed. Aiden glanced at Pacian, who had nothing to offer except a shrug, so Aiden hesitated a moment in thought before nodding his assent. Kinsey said nothing and simply limped away, leaning on his cane with each step as he headed for the door.

"Watch your back," Pacian called as Aiden followed, checking to make sure his sword was still sheathed on the belt beneath his longcoat. They left the warmth of the inn and crossed the street on a grey and cloudy day, to an unremarkable building which appeared to be a shop that had gone out of business. The windows were boarded up but the door was not.

Kinsey opened it and disappeared inside, with Aiden cautiously following. The interior was lit only by the light through the doorway, revealing empty shelves against the wall and a counter top covered in dust. Kinsey passed through this room and continued on to another door, beneath which a sliver of light could be seen.

When he opened it, a large storage room was visible, lit by four lanterns and one large foggy window. The room was cold and empty except for a fit young woman dressed in a plain woollen dress, with long dark hair and fair skin dotted with freckles. Her brown eyes watched Aiden warily as he entered, and he noticed a pair of swords sheathed on her belt, both of which appeared to be made of wood, partially wrapped in cloth.

"I would have thought a secret base would have been better equipped," Aiden remarked at the spartan surroundings.

"This isn't a permanent arrangement," Kinsey explained, "but it will suffice for the day. I like to keep moving, it keeps my enemies on their toes. This is Kara, one of my trusted agents," Kinsey explained by way of introduction. "She's very busy these days, but where possible she'll be checking in on your progress and watching your back."

"Hello," Aiden said, offering his hand to shake. Instead of grabbing it with her own, Kara pulled out one of the wooden swords and handed it handle-first to him.

"Nice to meet you," she answered smoothly. "You're going to need this." Aiden grasped the wooden sword and looked at it in confusion until Kara tossed the other fake sword to Mister Kinsey, who held it expertly in one hand and swished it back and forth to test its balance.

"It has come to my attention over the past few hours that you are untrained in either magic or fighting," Kinsey remarked, tossing his cane over to Kara. "Yet accounts from people I've spoken with suggest you have attempted to do both on more than one occasion. How you managed to survive this long is beyond my comprehension, save that you are surrounded by talented people, and appear to have a healthy dose of luck on your side."

Aiden remained silent, unwilling to add he'd technically been killed and brought back to life from another plane of existence too. It probably wouldn't help his case.

"Princess Criosa vouched for you, deferring to your judgement and saying you were 'really smart'," Kinsey continued. "I'm getting cynical in my advancing years so I need a little more than her word to go on. Beat me in a practice match and you'll have my support. Back down and I'll revoke your authority to operate on behalf of the Crown."

"I never asked for her to vouch for me," Aiden responded, hefting the wooden sword and shifting his position. "I am prepared to back up her words with a demonstration, but I'm a little concerned about fighting a man with a crippled leg."

"If I'm as impaired as you suggest, that should only make it easier for you to win," Kinsey surmised. "Don't worry, my pride won't be injured if you get the better of me." Aiden glanced at him warily, expecting the master spy to have a few tricks up his sleeve. Gripping the fake sword tightly, he closed the gap between them and brough the weapon around in a quick strike.

Kinsey hardly seemed to move, yet Aiden's sword was suddenly wrenched from his grasp and tossed to the floor. A heartbeat later, the edge of the spymaster's sword was at Aiden's throat, leaving no doubt how this would have ended had his weapon been real.

"A poor showing," Kinsey admonished him, shoving him backwards and pointing his sword at the one on the floor. "You underestimated me, Mister Wainwright. Don't do that again." Aiden retrieved the weapon and steadied himself once more, and this time approached his opponent with more respect.

Their weapons clacked off each other as Kinsey parried Aiden's attack, and before he could regain his balance, Kinsey elbowed him in the back and sent Aiden sprawling onto the polished wooden floor.

"You over extended yourself, sir, an amateur mistake," Kinsey remarked easily, leaning on his sword as if it were a cane. "Always maintain balance. You leave yourself open to attack when you go on the offensive like that. We are fragile creatures, Mister Wainwright, it doesn't take much effort to cut someone down."

"Thanks for the advice," Aiden muttered, slowing getting back on his feet and picking up his sword. This time, when he turned to face the spymaster, Aiden was completely focused on the task before him. He had been holding back for fear of injuring the man, but it was clear now that in spite of his injury, Mister Kinsey was an adept swordsman.

"In case you're wondering," Kara said, "we all have to go through this during training. Don't go easy on him or he'll just make it worse for you, mate."

"Again!' Kinsey demanded, reading his weapon before him. Aiden whispered the magical word he used to summon the shield of force and when it appeared, Kinsey actually raised an eyebrow. But this time, Aiden didn't give him a chance to get settled.

The two men came together in a furious clash of weapons, with Aiden fairing much better now that he had a shield to fend of Kinsey's cunning attacks. He lasted nearly half a minute before the old spymaster finally got the better of him and sent Aiden's sword clattering to the floor again.

"You have to think of my reaction to your attacks ahead of time," Kinsey advised in a sharp voice. "Anticipate. Get one step ahead of your opponent, because they'll be trying to do the same to you."

Again and again Aiden and Kinsey fought, spending the next hour battling away in the old abandoned storehouse, with Aiden losing each time but learning a little along the way. The test may have been to beat Kinsey in the long run, but clearly the spy wanted to teach Aiden a few things along the way. Kara watched from a distance, winching a little every time Aiden went down.

Aiden hadn't tried maintaining his shield for such a prolonged period of time and found it sapping his concentration. Eventually, he had to let it fade away as he simply couldn't maintain it any longer. With its advantages gone, the fights became shorter and more brutal, with Kinsey evidently losing patience with him.

"I hope you fight better than this when your life really is at stake," he growled, his limp becoming more pronounced as the effects of the test wore him down in spite of his obvious fitness.

"You expect me to beat a master of the sword in a matter of hours?" Aiden retorted after the latest defeat.

"Though you may not believe it, you're actually making some progress," Kinsey remarked. "You clearly have a sharp mind, though it would take months of training to make you a genuine expert on the blade."

Aiden's chest heaved as he struggled for breath and he laid on the the floor with his sword just out of reach. He glared at it, feeling resentment build at the old spymaster. "If I didn't have more pressing business to deal with, I'd suggest that you give me a week to beat you."

"You won't have any work today, or tomorrow if you don't defeat me," Kinsey warned. "You may hate me for it, but this is for your own good, and for that of the Kingdom. If you are killed in the course of battling our enemies, how does that help anyone? I assure you, the people you seek are fitter and more dangerous than I." Kinsey eased back from his battle stance and seemed to take pity on Aiden.

"But perhaps I am asking too much of you," he muttered. "We are done here." Aiden was feeling bruised and battered from the "lessons" Kinsey had taught, and it hurt to try and reach for his sword. As he was doing so, he noticed the magical ring on his finger.

"Once more," Aiden insisted, finally grasping the sword and getting back up. Kinsey regarded him dispassionately, then shrugged and readied himself for another bout.

Aiden raised his sword, but instead of lunging forward again, he spoke the command word to the ring and felt its energy coursing through his arm. With a gesture he swept Kinsey's sword from from his hand. Aiden made a grabbing gesture with his ring hand and Kinsey was lifted from his feet and rapidly pulled across the room, where his bare throat met the edge of Aiden's training sword.

"How's that?" he asked of Kinsey, who seemed both surprised and pleased at the result. The spymaster looked to Kara, who had a wry grin on her face.

"Technically, that would be cheating," she remarked, though Kinsey seemed to take a different perspective.

"What counts in a fight is victory," he breathed as he was held several inches off the floor. "You've learned to use all of the weapons at your disposal, Mister Wainwright. You shouldn't hold back, because our enemies certainly won't." Aiden smiled and eased the spymaster back onto his feet, then dropped the sword and held his ring hand up to show of the relic.

"Its use is limited, like most artifacts," Aiden explained between breaths. "I wasn't sure if it was worth wasting here, but I think the results speak for themselves. Can I go now?"

"It's an unorthodox approach, but it seems to work for you," Kinsey responded as he smoothed his dark coat. "You could really use a few more weeks training with the blade, but we simply don't have time. Nevertheless, you've managed to impress me, Mister Wainwright. I hope you've gleaned enough from today's lessons to keep you alive. Go about your mission, and know that you have my support."

Satisfied but worn out from the effort, Aiden gave him a nod of thanks and lumbered back towards the inn for some rest.
Chapter Thirteen

The next morning brought a heavy fall of snow that piled up in the streets, all but confining the citizens in their homes. Only brave or foolish souls risked heading out into the elements, leaving Aiden and the others effectively stranded at the Fair Maiden all morning. There was still no word from Perry as to the location of the assassins.

Aiden took advantage of the quiet time to practice his swordsmanship with Pacian, using the wooden legs he removed from a chair as makeshift practice weapons. Their sparring was a little one-sided, as Pacian used every distraction he could think of to win each bout, but Aiden liked to think they both learned a little for their efforts.

Mid-morning, Sir William, once again displaying his courage, entered through the storm and quickly closed the door behind him to keep out the cold.

Aiden waved him over to the table where he and Pacian sat, and he strode across the room dusting snow from his heavy cloak before unstrapping his sword belt and leaning the hilt against the table.

"You must be feeling better to risk this weather, in spite of appearances" Aiden remarked, noticing the look of discomfort evident on the elderly knight's expression.

"I regret to say that the years are catching up with me," he sighed. "Granted, my wounds were severe, yet in years past I was always back on my feet in no time. But now?" He shook his head ruefully.

"Well, if it's any consolation," Aiden offered to him, "I'm sure Val will never let you forget your weakness."

"That woman," Sir William grumbled, glancing over to the bar where she was having a drink with the diminutive raelani druid. "If you weren't so short on aid, I would strongly suggest you dispense with her, Mister Wainwright."

"Oh, she's not so bad," Aiden corrected the knight. "You just need to be a little more understanding of where she's from."

"Perhaps, but if it's all the same to you, I would sooner be rid of such an uncouth influence. If your quest was bereft of divine aid in the past — which as you know isn't true — then things have changed of late." He looked down to the hilt of the magnificent weapon that lay there, appearing almost alien in its construction compared to his own simple blade. On a hunch, Aiden examined it closely and noticed it seemed to be made of a metal other that iron.

He was no expert on smithing, but had once read about ancient artificers who had discovered how to make an unbreakable metal. The name as well as the method of its production had been lost in time, but it was referred to in more recent works as auldsteel. If true, its value was beyond estimation.

"So... that sword," Pacian said, also staring at the hilt of Solas Aingeal. "Are you sure you want to leave it leaning against the table where anyone could take it?"

"Nobody can steal that which has been given by providence," Sir William replied. "For example, I forbid you to take this weapon." Pacian gave him a confused look for a long moment, before it dawned on him that it was a test. Licking his lips, he leaned across the table and grasped the hilt of the weapon. A few seconds later he let it go and recoiled, slumping into his seat and raising his arms over his face.

"Pace?" Aiden asked, genuinely concerned. He glanced at Sir William, who looked at did not appear surprised by the result.

"Tell me, Mister Savidge," the knight asked calmly, "do you have trouble sleeping at night as the demons of your past slowly erode your soul?"

"What did that thing do to him?" Aiden asked with a concerned look at Pacian.

"It did nothing other than illuminate the emptiness in his own heart," Sir William replied sadly. Pacian immediately stood up, throwing his chair to the floor and stalking off to the other side of the bar. Aiden ran a hand through his hair, recognising the mood Pacian was now in — the sooner they had something to fight, the better he'd feel.

Maggie and Valennia came over to join them shortly afterward, and the four of them idly bantered about recent events while they awaited word from Perry. True to Aiden's observation, Valennia made sport of Sir William's perceived frailty during their battle in the mausoleum, and the knight was clearly struggling to remain civil during the conversation.

Aiden spent some time leafing through the collection of arcane scrolls Sayana had acquired for him, and even spent some time practicing the strange words, obviously with great caution lest he set one of them off.

It was late in the afternoon when the foul weather finally eased, and soon after Nellise walked through the inn doors, appearing tired from her time helping the homeless under the city. Sparky accompanied her, dressed in adult clothing but still easily confused for a human child if one didn't look too closely.

"Welcome back," Aiden greeted the cleric, who had taken evidently the time to bathe before returning to the inn. "Are you okay?"

"Well enough," she quietly replied, running a hand through her pale locks. "Though being amongst so many downtrodden people has affected me rather deeply. It's a difficult thing to feel abandoned by society." Ronan appeared from across the room, still putting on his armour as he approached.

"Is there news?" he asked.

"We're just about to find out," Maggie told him, looking pointedly at Sparky.

"I bring word from Perry," Sparky said after looking around to make sure someone wasn't listening in on their conversation. "He is not prepared to divulge the location of the assassins, lest he become a target himself."

"Shit," Aiden muttered, bitterly disappointed by the news.

"Language, sir," Sir William admonished him.

"Sorry, ladies," Aiden replied absently, far more potent curses circling around in his mind. "This puts us right back to square one, though. I would have thought the head of the thieves' guild would have been in possession of a little more courage."

"I'll be sure to not let Perry know you said that," Sparky replied blandly. "I know you wanted to hear differently, but this is the message I was told to deliver. For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

"What do we do now?" Nellise asked. "Without a direct lead, there's no way we're going to track down this organisation."

"While you think on that," Sparky offered casually, "I think you might enjoy a little tour of the city. In particular, I think you'd find the Royal Art Gallery in the Senate District to your liking. There're all sorts of things to be found there at the moment. Be seeing you," she finished with a wink before heading for the door.

"Perry's trying to be clever," Ronan remarked with a wry grin, "but if that's the information he wanted us to hear, then I'd bet our target is somewhere nearby, possibly even in the gallery itself."

"He's just trying to cover his tracks," Aiden remarked, realising it was finally time to act. "Are you all prepared to head out right now?" he asked.

"Do we have a plan of action?" Sir William inquired.

"We don't know the layout of the place we're going, nor how many we face," Aiden answered after a moment's thought. "We want to capture Holister alive if possible, and eliminate or capture as many other assassins as we can. I think we might have to improvise and adapt to whatever we find."

"Hardly an ideal situation but one must remain flexible I suppose. How are the streets?" Sir William asked of Nellise.

"Passable, with some effort," she answered.

"Good enough," Aiden grunted, then called to Pacian to get his attention.

"What?" he asked, still not in the best mood, but Aiden had some news that would cheer him up.

"It's on," Aiden informed him. "Go grab Sayana and let's go." An evil grin appeared on Pacian's lips as he set his drink down, flipped a coin to the bartender, and then went upstairs to fetch the sorceress.

* * *

"So, do you think we were meant to come here just as they closed up for the day?" Maggie wondered. Aiden and the others stood in the deepening shadows just down the street from the gallery, watching as the curator locked the front door and walked into the evening gloom. The chill in the air was especially sharp this evening.

"That shouldn't present a problem," Ronan dismissed, "and it's probably for the best, anyway. If we run into the assassins, the last thing we need is a bunch of art lovers getting massacred."

"Pace, can you get us in there?" Aiden asked. The streets were practically deserted, with only the occasional passer-by moving quickly to get out of the cold.

"Just give me a minute," Pacian answered quietly, then sauntered to the front door of the gallery. The sun had already set, and the only light was coming from the lanterns dotted along the street at regular intervals. From what little Aiden could see, Pacian was pretending to be fumbling with his keys as he attempted to unlock the door.

"I think he's got it," Sayana remarked in a hushed voice, her eagle eyes clearly able to discern exactly what was going on.

"Let's go," Aiden whispered, leading the group down the street and in through the front door of the gallery, which Pacian held open as if inviting them into his own home.

It was pitch black within the walls, so Aiden invoked a light on his belt buckle, with Sayana and Nellise also enacting their own sources of illumination. The halls before them were lavishly carpeted, with expertly carved woodwork around the walls adding to the overall opulence of the gallery. Large paintings hung from the walls at regular intervals, displaying the talent of Aielund's artists for all to see, for a modest admission fee of course.

"Do you have any idea what we're looking for?" Nellise asked of Ronan.

"Not a clue, really," Ronan shrugged. "This place isn't huge so I don't think there's anywhere to hide within the gallery itself. There could be a secret passage somewhere, I guess. We should spread out and look around carefully for anything that resembles the outline of a door, handle or something similar."

"These pictures are beautiful," Sayana whispered in awe, looking at a painting that depicted a serene lake in a forest. She peered at the picture very closely and raised a hand up to touch the canvas with an extended finger. The finger began to glow softly, the same colour as the sky she was looking at, as if she was trying to duplicate it. Aiden was reminded of the simple image she had created back in the Calespur ranges, using nothing but coloured lights created by her own sorcery.

"Try to stay focused. We're not here for sightseeing," Aiden advised. So far, he hadn't found anything that would suggest a secret passageway, so he started checking behind the paintings themselves, thinking that the larger canvases might be hiding some sort of latch or handle. He entered a large room, adorned on all walls with paintings depicting everyday life in Fairloch, before someone finally found something of interest.

"Over here," Sayana called quietly. Aiden and the others walked over to join her next to a large painting, one he'd looked at earlier without success.

"What's wrong?" he asked, not seeing any reason for the call.

"This painting is different to the others," she pointed out. "All of the paintings here have a theme of life on the streets of this city, and yet this one depicts the violent death of an important man — it doesn't fit with the others." Aiden adjusted his position to make sure his arcane light was shining fully upon the painting, and took a closer look at the picture itself.

"'The Overthrow of Kings'," Aiden murmured, reading from the plaque. It was a work of violence and blood, showing the death of a king at the hands of an outraged populace armed with pitchforks and torches.

"This painting really speaks to me," Valennia confided, peering at the picture from over Aiden's shoulder.

"I can't imagine why," Aiden muttered absently. "Pace, come have a look at this and see if there's some sort of mechanism."

"Give us some room," Pacian advised as he pushed through to the front and began carefully running his fingers along the edge of the frame. Finding nothing, he tried lifting the picture off the wall but found that it could not be moved. "Are they supposed to be fixed to the wall like this?"

"No, they usually just hang off a hook on the wall," Sir William explained.

"This has to be it," Aiden advised. "Keep trying." Pacian stepped back and took in the whole picture, looking for something to give him an indication of what he was dealing with. After a long, silent moment, he groaned and slapped himself on the forehead.

"What is it?" Aiden whispered, tense with expectation.

"How long has this painting been here, do you think?" Pacian asked the others.

"I recall coming here as a boy and seeing this painting," Sir William remarked. "In fact, I believe I read somewhere that it was the first painting to be hung in this gallery."

"And it wasn't always a gallery, right?" Pacian pressed, running the flat of his palm carefully across the canvas.

"That is correct, though I haven't the foggiest idea who used to live here prior to the sale of the building."

"It's not who owned it, it's about what it used to be," Pacian murmured, his hand settling over the shadow underneath the picture of the throne. He pressed his finger into black spot, and to Aiden's surprise, a soft click could be heard, and the entire wall opened inwards to a stairway leading down into the darkness.

"A cellar," Maggie stated ruefully. "I'll bet this place used to be a winery or some such."

"Nice work Pace," Aiden breathed, peering down into the darkness as his pulse quickened. "You and Ronan move ahead and check it out." He glanced around and saw the tension building on the faces of his companions as they readied their weapons and checked their gear. Nellise and Sir William both put on their helmets, and when he noticed Sayana enacting her protective magic, and Aiden grasped the case of scrolls on his hip to reassure him of their presence.

"The stairs are clear," Ronan called up to them as loudly as he dared.

"Okay, move in slowly, I'll be with you in a minute," Aiden replied, gesturing for the others to go inside. He took out a scroll and read a familiar looking set of inscriptions that would conjure spectral armour, no doubt a popular choice for wizards concerned with their continuing existence in dangerous situations.

Aiden read it aloud and a moment later, the scroll disintegrated and he was covered in a brief flash of light and the faint, ghostly image of a suit of armour covered his form for a moment before disappearing.

"Oh, I like that one," Sayana whispered, and began moving her hands in rhythmic patterns before her, until a minute later when she too was protected by the spectral armour.

"Clever girl," Aiden murmured with a slight smile. He stepped down the first few stairs and closed the door behind him.

Only the flickering of their magic lights allowed them to see their surroundings. The passage was narrow, and they were forced to move single file until they reached the bottom of the stairs, where it opened into a small chamber. It wasn't much to look at, appearing to be little more than a forgotten cellar, complete with shelves and empty barrels stacked in one corner. Sayana found something of interest on the floor, however.

"There are many recent tracks here," she observed, kneeling down on the dust-covered flagstones. "They come and go from that wall over there, behind the shelf." Pacian moved forward to investigate, finding a lever hidden in a tiny alcove that, when pulled, opened up a section of wall much like the one in the gallery above.

"Sneaky bastards," Ronan grunted as he moved through the doorway, as silent as death.

"Look who's talking," Maggie whispered, gripping her tiny sword tightly. Ronan gave the all-clear, and they started moving into the new passageway, this one wide enough for them to move two abreast. Sir William and Valennia went in after the scouts, with the others bringing up the rear.

The dampness in the cold air carried with it a strange aroma, something Aiden thought was akin to a wet dog, but otherwise there was no indication of danger or signs that their presence had been detected by the occupants. The group moved slowly down the passageway with Ronan and Pacian making sure the way was clear, until they came to an intersection that led off into three other passageways.

"Should we split up?" Pacian asked, keeping his voice as low as possible.

"We stick together," Aiden decided after a moment's deliberation. "Sy, see if you can find some more tracks." She nodded and moved to scan the ground for signs of passage.

"They go to the right," she announced after a few moments of investigation.

"Then so do we," Valennia stated. The lack of guards, or even locked doors was a little perplexing for Aiden, and he had to assume that the assassin's figured that the secret doors would be enough to deter invaders. The corridor continued onward for perhaps twenty yards, at which point Pacian pointed out a metal portcullis above his head.

"Seems to be rusted in place," Ronan remarked after a few moments of investigation. "I don't think a lot of people come down this way very often."

"A strange place for a heavy gate such as this, though," Sir William said. "I see little here worth defending."

"Do the tracks continue on?" Aiden asked Sayana, who nodded in reply. "We keep moving then." Valennia gave the portcullis a suspicious glance then followed as Sayana pressed forward. They had only travelled a further twenty yards when Aiden was startled by a loud clanging sound from behind, followed by an echoing boom as the portcullis slammed down. The sounds of chains rattling from behind the walls could be heard as a moment later as the walls started to close on them.

"We walked right into a trap," Pacian snarled. Aiden immediately turned and ran to the metal gate and searched around for some kind of opening mechanism, without success. He shook the bars fruitlessly and stifled a cry of frustrated rage. Maggie tried to squeeze her diminutive frame through the gap between bars, but she was a little too large to fit.

"Can we get through at the other end?" Nellise called over the loud noise.

"It's a dead end," Sayana called back, an edge of fear in her voice. Valennia was trying to use her strength to keep the walls apart, but seemed to have no effect. Sayana stood in the middle of the rapidly narrowing corridor and held an outstretched palm to each wall, focusing her energies to try and hold it apart with sheer force of will. Combined with Valennia's efforts, the walls made a low, grating sound of protest and slowed noticeably, buying them valuable time.

His pulse racing, Aiden struggled to think clearly. Looking around on the ground, he could see faint outlines of footprints that stopped abruptly ten feet into this part of the passageway.

"The tracks stop here," he said, pointing at the ground. Ronan and Pacian rushed over and looked carefully, brushing aside the loose dirt for any sign of a door.

"Found it," Pacian blurted, detecting the edge of a trapdoor with his fingers. "I don't know how it opens, though — there's no sign of a latch."

"Hurry up," Valennia snarled through clenched teeth. Despite the best efforts of the two Akoran women, the walls were slowly but surely winning the battle. Pacian and Ronan redoubled their efforts, trying to find the method for opening the door via a loose brick or something similar, until a few moments later when Maggie made a discovery.

"What's that?" she asked, pointing up at an oddly protruding brick in the ceiling.

"Exactly what we're looking for," Ronan muttered, jumping up to hit the brick, which slid inside the ceiling with a dense clunk sound. The trapdoor immediately opened.

"Everyone in!" Aiden ordered. Pacian made use of the ladder on the side of the wall to lower himself, and then the others followed one by one. By the time they'd descended, the edges of the walls were alongside the hole, giving the two remaining women only moments to escape a horrible death.

"Go!" Sayana ordered, sending Valennia down through the escape hatch next. Without her strength the walls started to close over the hole more rapidly, and Aiden could no longer see what was happening above as he continued down.

An ominous booming sound came from above as the walls crunched against each other, and for a few breathless moments, Aiden dreaded the thought that Sayana might not have made it.

Stepping back from the ladder, they waited for a long moment until Sayana levitated into the room. Relieved they had made it out of the trap alive, Aiden glanced around at their surroundings and saw a room ten yards square, its walls made of bricks partially covered with grime that smelled of mould and moisture. There was an old access door at the far end, the wood it was made from rotten. Nellise was closest to it, and after a quick nod from Pacian, she crept forward for a closer look.

A sharp sound pierced the near-silence of the chamber as a spear shot from a nearby wall and struck Nellise in the back. Her breastplate managed to turn aside the tip, but it was a shock nonetheless and would most likely leave a bruise.

As one, Aiden's companions looked around carefully, trying to find the source of the attack, when a faint click could be heard, right before another spear shot from a different wall and struck Valennia. She cried out and clutched at the gruesome injury on her arm, until their attention was drawn away by yet another spear striking her as she flailed about.

"Stop moving, the floor is trapped," Ronan ordered. "Pacian, let's clear a path to the door while everyone stays still." Pacian did as ordered, crouching to examine the floor while Ronan checked nearby. "There are pressure plates all over the place," he hissed. "I don't think there's any doubt we've landed right in their base. You hanging in there Val?"

"They have succeeded only in making me angry," the Akoran warrior growled.

"I can get to her from here," Maggie said, nimbly picking her way amongst the tiles on the floor until she stood alongside Valennia, and started to tend her wounds. Aiden and the rest had to hold still for over a minute before Ronan gave the all-clear, and everyone started to move single file towards the door. Pacian was already there, listening with his ear to the ancient wood for any signs of trouble on the other side.

"Let us open the door and surprise them," Valennia whispered, the wound on her arm reduced to a red welt. Pacian slowly gripped the rusty handle and attempted to open it, only to discover it was jammed. At that moment a small hatch slid open above the door and a gloved hand dropped a large glass bottle through it. Demonstrating his finely honed reflexes, Pacian caught the vial and saw a volatile bubbling liquid inside. Alarmed at what he was holding, he threw it over his shoulder to the furthest wall, where it shattered.

Flames immediately spread over the wall as the liquid spread, pouring down to the floor and slowly oozing its way towards the group. Everyone moved to put some distance between them and the fire, coughing as the smoke began to build up in the small room.

"Follow my lead!" Valennia cried, readying her axe and eyeing the closed door before them. Before Aiden could respond, she cried out a challenge in her native tongue and charged through the door, which exploded from the impact and was followed almost immediately by the sounds of fighting.

"For the king!" Sir William bellowed, drawing his sword and rushing to her aid as he ran through the broken doorway.

With a deep breath, Aiden summoned his shield and drew his sword, leading his remaining companions in a charge through the door to whatever waited for them on the other side.

Chapter Fourteen

Aiden emerged from the smoke-filled room into a scene of chaos. The magical light on his belt allowed him to see a long stone corridor they'd entered disappearing off into the darkness, with large alcoves at regular intervals along each side. Before him, Valennia and Sir William fought against figures in dark cloaks wielding short, curving blades with deadly precision.

As the rest of their companions rushed out of the burning room, Valennia pressed the attack, sweeping her great axe back and forth against a number of elusive shadowy figures.

Aiden rushed to Sir William's side and swung his blade at one of the assailants, meeting only thin air as the agile killer dodged to one side, managing to slash at Aiden in response. His spectral armour absorbed the impact, allowing him to hold Sir William's flank while the old knight moved in.

Wielding Solas Aingeal with two hands, he swept the blade into the ranks of his enemies, slicing through both their flimsy armour and their flesh with equal ease. The sword flared with light on each hit, and mindful of its deadly touch, their foes gave up the attack and focused on simply staying alive.

"They're trying to delay us," Sir William bellowed. From what Aiden could see, they now faced only four opponents, and with Sayana and Ronan joining the fight, the tide was turning their way. Crossbow bolts flew through the air as Nellise brought her weapon to bear.

Unable to see a way to win, their enemies pulled back into the corridor. Aiden and Sir William pressed forward, trying to keep up with Valennia as she ran after their shadowy assailants, swerving and diving through the corridor. Two of them turned to stall their pursuers while the others got away.

Val met them head on, narrowly missing her target who pressed his back against the wall while the axe swept past. What he hadn't anticipated was her foot coming up to his chest, pinning him in place while she brought her axe back up for another swing. The assassin slashed away with his blade, but the Akoran warrior didn't even notice as she brought her axe down on his skull, ending his life in a spray of gore.

A jet of flame shot past Aiden and took one of the fleeing assassins in the back, engulfing him in flame and ending his life within moments. Sayana stepped past, a ball of fire still hovering in her hand. The last of them disappeared into one of the alcoves.

"He's going to tell the others we're here," Maggie warned, but was silenced as a Pacian-shaped blur ran past in pursuit, dashing around the alcove's corner with only his rapid footsteps giving any indication of his progress.

Around the corner was not an alcove at all, but another corridor leading away through the darkness. Aiden felt that they were exposed, charging along what appeared to be an unused part of the sewer system with their lights revealing their exact location.

They were heading deep into the complex far quicker than they should and making too much noise. Aiden's fears were confirmed moments later when he heard a click underfoot. He stopped and lurched backwards hoping to avoid whatever he'd just set off and felt a breeze waft past him as a log attached to ropes dangling from the ceiling wooshed past, narrowly missing him.

With their trap foiled, dark shapes emerged from hidden doors in the wall nearby and descended upon Aiden and his companions once again with daggers flashing in the dim light.

Aiden went to the aid of Sayana, who was trying to fend off three assailants at once and was still standing only because of the protective magic surrounding her. Ignoring Kinsey's earlier advice, Aiden recklessly swung with all of his strength and managed to cut an assassin right across his body, severing the straps on his leather armour and sending him to the ground.

Ronan appeared from behind the group and with a quick one-two from his twin swords, cut down another of their ranks. This freed up Sayana to take the offensive, and with her shining axe she finished off the last of the three.

More were charging down the corridor to join their brethren in the fight, but fortunately, Maggie stepped forward with a solution. She sent a spray of water from her palms straight up at the ceiling, and her lips moved quickly in a prayer to nature.

"Duck!" she called to Pacian, who never hesitated when someone told him to do so. He dove to the ground and skidded on the dusty stones as Maggie's prayer took effect, freezing the stream of water and summoning a driving wind to blast down the corridor. Jagged shards of ice bombarded the oncoming assailants, battering them and leaving them a bloody mess, an easy target for Valennia and Sir William to carve their way through.

Maggie screamed a moment later when a heavy club smashed into her from an assassin who emerged from a small hatch in the wall. The raelani druid's arm was clearly broken from the strike, and she fell to the ground as Valennia kicked the assassin back through the door. The concealed opening slammed shut behind him, though his work was already done. The remaining opponents fled from the scene, disappearing into the shadows and leaving Aiden and his companions a few moments to take stock.

"I'll patch her up," Nellise offered, moving forward to assist Maggie. Aiden looked around to check on the others, who watched the shadows warily.

"They thought they had us, but we certainly proved them wrong," Sir William rasped, leaning against the wall to catch his breath.

"I hate blundering around like this," Aiden remarked bitterly. "They could hit us again at any time."

"They're in their element, and we're not," Ronan responded, receiving a nod of agreement from Aiden. "The only way we get safe is to finish what we started."

Maggie let out a whimper of pain as Nellise, crouched by her side, held her crystal in hand and began her healing the druid's crushed and bloodied arm. It was a sight both gruesome and remarkable, to see even a former priestess of the Church of Aielund providing healing to what could be considered a member of a rival faith.

Turning to Valennia, Aiden could see that she was favouring one leg, the other dripping with blood from numerous small cuts. Her thick hides almost to shreds and lines of blood appeared where her enemy's blades had reached skin.

"I can still fight," she growled in response to his unasked question. "Leave your shaman to heal the tiny woman while we press ahead, Aiden. We cannot allow them to regroup."

"I concur," Sir William added.

"This will take more time than we have to heal properly," Nellise murmured, her attention mostly focused on channelling healing energies to her patient. "But this will get Maggie back on her feet."

"Lucky me," the druid said in little more than a whisper. "I can move. We shouldn't stay here any longer."

"Alright, we head onward same as before," Aiden said to everyone. "I doubt they would have put this much effort into defence if their headquarters wasn't close. Keep your eyes peeled." With Ronan and Pacian in the lead again, they slowly headed down the ancient passage until their progress was halted by a heavy stone door, covered in dirt and mould. A few moments of Pacian's expertise persuaded it to open, revealing another corridor disappearing into the distant darkness.

A short distance along this section Ronan whispered that he'd found an empty room just off to the right, he guided everyone through to give them a chance to rest and take stock of their situation.

There was grime and mildew heavily encrusted upon walls lined with dirt from countless years of neglect. Heavy cobwebs hung in the corners, but no signs of spiders could be seen, and judging by the dry, dusty odour, nothing had moved down here for a very long time.

"How are you faring?" Aiden asked Sayana, who was sitting against the wall next to him.

"I'm hanging in there," she answered firmly.

"I have seen better days," Sir William sighed, looking worse for wear as he leaned heavily on his sword next to her. Nellise put Maggie's arm into a makeshift sling, and there was no telling how effective she was likely to be in a fight.

"Can you and Ronan scout ahead some more while we catch our breath?" Aiden asked of Pacian, who nodded in response. "I'd like to turn the tables on these bastards and surprise them for a change."

"What do you have in mind?" Pacian asked warily.

"Nothing subtle," Aiden suggested with a wink. "Oh, take these so you can creep around without lighting yourselves up," he added, taking his magical goggles that allowed their wearer to see in the dark out of his pack and handed them to Pacian. He fitted them over his eyes and along with the sailor, silently headed back through the door and disappeared. Valennia closed it and stood watch, while Nellise continued her work on Maggie's injury.

Aiden fidgeted incessantly while he awaited the return of his two scouts. Both Pacian and Ronan could see quite well in the dim conditions and Aiden could only hope it was enough of an advantage to allow them to remain undetected as they moved about the complex. When they finally returned to the antechamber, the news was better than he could have hoped for.

"The only other way out of this section is through a door fifty yards further down the corridor," Pacian told him. "I found a trap on that door and cut the wire, so we can get through it without setting off whatever surprise they had in store for us.

"I saw a lot of tracks in the mud underfoot," Ronan added. "I'd bet a gold sovereign that's their base."

"Okay, then we hit it hard and fast," Aiden suggested, speaking to the entire group. "Charge in at anything moving and don't give them time to respond."

"It will be my honour to lead the charge," Valennia said, "and I will permit you to stand beside me, old warrior," she added for Sir William's benefit.

"With luck and providence, we will end this vile organisation once and for all," the knight responded.

"I need a few more minutes to stablise this," Nellise advised, still working on Maggie's injury. The flow of blood had been staunched and Nellise was attempting to heal over the terrible wound. Maggie was barely conscious, her face pale and glistened with sweat from the pain.

"We'll close the door behind us while you finish up," Aiden suggested. "Pace, stay with them and keep watch, but join us as soon as you're able. Okay Ronan, lead us to this door you found and we'll finish this." Ronan nodded and the group cautiously followed the sailor down the corridor, watching the walls for any sign of unwanted visitors. Aiden's heart started beating faster as they approached the door in question, another ancient block of dirt-covered stone.

Although it appeared to be clogged with grime, Ronan was easily able to open it and the door swung open on silent, well-oiled hinges. As soon as it was open far enough, Valennia let out an ear-splitting battle cry and charged through, with Sir William, who had been caught off guard by the noise, following behind in a struggle to keep up.

Aiden rushed through next and saw a wide chamber of roughly thirty square feet in size. Arched openings revealed passageways off to the left and right, and straight ahead was a large table with vials of dark liquid and an assortment of weapons were scattered upon it. Seven dark figures who had been gathered around the table immediately fled, dashing though the left arch, with Valennia and Sir William close on their heels.

Aiden moved to pursue but was struck by the possibility that this was another trick. He hesitated in the middle of the room and slowly turned to regard the other passage to the right. There was no indication anyone was there, but with these shadowy foes, that meant little.

Ronan and Sayana dashed past, but slowly to a stop when they noticed Aiden torn between aiding his allies and following his hunch. Aiden held up a hand to indicate silence, then crept through the right arch and turned a corner, discovering a large room filled with simple beds, small tables with the remains of several meals piled upon them. Beyond this, on the far wall a hooded individual dressed in expensive leathers was helping a robed man through a narrow, concealed door.

Sensing the leaders of the organisation making a break for it, Aiden, Ronan and Sayana immediately moved in with their weapons at the ready. The dark, leather-clad warrior heard them and turned to look, revealing a woman's face visible beneath the hood. Her eyes were dark and a long scar ran down the right side of her face.

"Go," she instructed the robed man, "I will hold them."

Aiden spoke a command word and raised his right hand, feeling the ring upon it humming with power. He clenched his fist and the robed man, who had been about to slip away, found himself held by an invisible force. Aiden tried to pull him back inside the room but the man held fast to the door jamb.

The female assassin drew a short blade with each hand and dashed towards Aiden, sliding across one of the tables and landing lightly on the ground before him. Fortunately, before she could move any closer, Ronan and Sayana stepped up and cut her off. The assassin rolled to Aiden's left in an attempt to get around them but Ronan's cat-like reflexes kept her at bay.

The standoff came to an abrupt end a moment later when the robed man held in the doorway raised one of his hands and from it, blasted Aiden with a torrent of dark lighting. He screamed as the strength ebbed from his muscles and he staggered onto one knee, his energies drained by the crackling black energy. The ring's hold vanished and within the span of a heartbeat, the robed man was gone.

Struggling back to his feet, Aiden turned to the female assassin who faced off against Ronan and Sayana, unable to make a quick escape without getting through at least one of them.

"Where is Holister?" Aiden asked, in no mood for games. "Answer truthfully and you may yet live." The woman held each of her swords towards an opponent, and backed off a little more when Aiden moved forward, drawing his own weapon to corner her. She glanced briefly at the door and Aiden knew if they failed to stop her here she'd disappear into the night. In spite of this, she actually smiled.

"Sarah Holister, at your service," she answered in a husky voice. "And now that you know who I am, I can't let you live to tell others." To his surprise, the woman's smile widened as if eager for the challenge and before Aiden could react, she was on the attack. She darted forward and went for Sayana who was unable to counter the assault. Her spectral armour flashed again and again as Holister repeatedly broke through her defences.

Ronan rushed in to hit Holister from behind with his own pair of short blades but she sensed this coming and in a remarkable feat of athleticism, kicked one of Ronan's legs out from under him and arched over backwards to flip over his prone form. Ronan rolled over so he was facing the ceiling and brought his blades up just in time to catch Holister's.

Aiden use the power of the ring once more to give Holister a shove that sent her tumbling backwards, but she ended up on her feet and rushed back in. It was barely enough time for Ronan to get back up and meet her in a flurry of swords.

Despite Ronan's obvious skill, he was outmatched by the master assassin before him and quickly found himself pushed back from the onslaught. She seemed to have a sixth-sense about what was going on around her, for she easily dodged Sayana's shining axe when she brought it to bear.

Aiden stepped forward to assist Ronan but received a swift kick in the stomach from Holister, who followed through on the move with an aeriel cartwheel. As soon as she landed, her blades whirled around to cut Ronan both times, forcing the sailor back as blood seeped from his wounds.

Sayana knew she was completely outmatched by her opponent, so held her axe to one side and raised her other hand. Before she could invoke her sorcery, Holister swept her blades in a wide arc, cutting across Sayana's extended arm. If not for the protection of her spectral armour, her limb would have been completely severed. The force of the blow was such that green sparks exploded around Sayana as the spell failed completely.

Aiden had finally caught his breath and also determined it was pointless trying to outfight Holister with his meagre skills, so he sheathed his sword and picked up a nearby chair, which he smashed over her head while she was recovering from her attack on Sayana. Holister staggered backwards, trying to recover giving Sayana time to pull away without risk. Blood flowed freely along her arm where Holister's blade had cut through her protection.

Aiden finally had the advantage and raised his hand, using the power of his telekinetic ring to hold her in place. She struggled against the ring's hold, attempting to simply break free but when it became clear she couldn't, Holister flicked the wrist of one hand, sending one of her swords flying towards Aiden. It struck him on the right shoulder, releasing her from the magic as he clutched at his bloodied arm.

Once free, Holister ran in and drove her knee into Aiden's stomach, dropping him to the ground as he gasped for breath., fully aware he was exposed to an attack. Instead, she was forced to contend with Ronan, who pressed her hard from the other side, drawing her attention away. It was a costly move, as even with a single blade, Holister was more than a match.

She rolled on the ground and came to a sliding halt behind him, cutting at the back of one of his legs which dropped him to one knee. She then followed through with the hilt of her weapon, smacking Ronan on the back of his head. He roared in pain and fell forward, dazed from the blow.

"Enough of this," came Nellise's ringing voice from the door behind them. Everyone in the room turned to see the cleric standing in the doorway, her helmet gleaming in the dim light. A trail of dried blood on one side of her face served only to highlight her determined appearance. Holister turned and looked at her with detached calm, drawing a spare dagger and glancing around to make sure this wasn't a trick as the cleric spoke an ultimatum — "I give you this one chance to surrender."

"Or?" the assassin asked, walking forward carefully to face her from across the room.

"Or I will break you and force your capitulation anyway."

"Make me," Holister grinned without mirth. Nellise didn't say another word, instead raising her staff and moving in purposefully. The assassin awaited her approach and as soon as Nellise moved to strike, sprang into action.

Holister tested her skills with cunning strikes, feints and sheer brute force. Nellise was hard-pressed right from the beginning and took several hits to her armour, with a couple of them drawing blood from between the gaps in the iron plate. What she was managing to do, was to keep Holister completely occupied, so much so that she failed to notice Pacian was creeping up on the master assassin from the shadows.

Aiden was finally able to breath properly again and this time reached into his scroll case for an incantation of paralysis. He whispered the words and glared at Holister until the parchment crumbled to ash in his hands and a ripple in the air flew towards the assassin. The result was less than he'd hoped for. Holister seemed to hesitate for only a moment before continuing the fight, shrugging off the incantation with sheer force of will.

Pacian sensed a moment of confusion in the assassin's rhythm and took full advantage, leaping forward like a cat and stabbing her from behind. Holister cried out in pain but reflexively still managed to slam her elbow into Pacian's face.

He stumbled backwards with blood flowing freely from his nose, but his efforts had not gone unrewarded — the distraction allowed Nellise to crack her staff into Holister's arm, shattering bone and forcing her to drop her weapon. The cleric didn't give her time to recover however, and struck at the assassin on the head with her staff again and again until she finally dropped to the floor.

Aiden was taken aback by the brutal display. Nellise breathed heavily from the exertion with blood dripping from her weapon. Her face was a mask of hatred, and it seemed as though she was about to continue the assault, yet something held her back. The battered assassin looked up at her with something akin to genuine fear, awaiting the final strike which did not come.

"Finish it," Pacian growled, moving to stand near Nellise. "She's a piece of low-life filth, just like those monsters who made you watch their slaughter in that cave. She's got nothing to say to us but lies." The cleric held the end of the quarterstaff over Holister's face, poised to strike.

"We've won," Aiden pointed out cautiously. "There's no need to kill her."

"She'll lie and try to weasel her way out of this," Pacian retorted. It occurred to Aiden that Pacian could easily have done the deed himself, but he seemed to be more interested in convincing Nellise to do it.

"She's a wanted woman," Aiden continued gently. "There's no way she's going to walk away from this. Let her live, and we'll learn what we can before she gets thrown in prison." Nellise continued to hesitate for a moment longer, and then let out a loud sob as her shoulders slumped. Turning away, she walked over to a wall and leaned back against it, sliding down to the floor, crying softly.

"Fine, I'll do it," Pacian grunted, readying his dagger to finish off the assassin but caught at the last moment by Ronan, who held back the thrust.

"Aiden says we talk to her, and that might be hard to do if she's dead," he said evenly to Pacian. The two men locked eyes for a tense moment, until Pacian relented and backed away.

"Thank you for my life," Holister croaked as Aiden hobbled over to stand before her. Looking around, Aiden saw a nearby chair that hadn't been damaged in the fight, so he pulled it over and sat down.

"Who hired you to kidnap the princess?" he asked bluntly, having no inclination to bandy his words.

"I don't know their names," the assassin replied. "We don't talk directly, just through papers left at a certain place at a pre-arranged time."

"Told you," Pacian said with disgust, which Aiden chose to ignore.

"Show me these papers," Aiden ordered, and Holister directed his gaze to a table nearby. There were a few sheaves of paper near the lantern, which Ronan picked up and idly browsed.

"There's not a lot here," he reported, "just a few brief sentences about times and places." He took out the note they'd retrieved from the assassins in the alleyway where Criosa had been poisoned and compared the two. "The handwriting is identical. Number One strikes again." Aiden nodded and considered this for a moment, just as Valennia, Sir William and Maggie entered the room.

Each of them appeared bloodied, though it was probably more their enemies' than their own. Maggie was in the middle of healing Sir William, who appeared to have taken a hit to the head, but otherwise the three of them seemed well enough. Aiden turned back to his captive and moved onto the next topic of interest.

"It seems you and your lackeys were expecting us," he stated. "How did you know we were coming?"

"My employer wishes you dead," Holister said, breathing heavily, "and after I heard about your victory at Culdeny, I figured you might be kind of tough, so I made plans to lure you here. It wasn't difficult to convince the thieves' guild to send you our way, given the alternative was their death."

"Perry," Ronan remarked ominously. "That son of a bitch played us. All that time he needed to 'think about it' was bullshit."

"Don't judge him harshly, I didn't make it easy for him," Holister coughed. "Can I get my wounds looked at? You wouldn't want me to die before I tell you everything, right?" Aiden didn't answer right away, as he was fuming over Perry's betrayal.

"I take it this is the elusive Holister Swiftblade," Sir William remarked, looking down at her with disdain. "At last we meet."

"And you are?" she asked.

"Sir William Bryce-Clifton, of the Order of the Rose Eagle."

"Never heard of you," Holister replied, causing the knight's moustache to bristle with contempt.

"Who was that robed person with the black lightning?" Aiden continued, eager to get this over with.

"An associate from down south," the assassin answered. "I was in retirement when I got news of this job, and most of my old crew were dead or out of reach, so I had to recruit some help. They're some sort of religious fanatics that worship the old god of death, but they're basically just assassins when you get right down to it. The sleeping poison is theirs."

"The god of death," Aiden murmured, recalling reading about such things in an ancient text. "It was called Maecal, which roughly translates to 'entropy' in modern Aielish. They used to perform ritual sacrifices and often kidnapped people to use in their twisted ceremonies. They weren't all assassins though. In fact, there were some passages referring to them mercifully ending the lives of the suffering. They were more of a cult than a proper religion though, and everything I read suggested they were all but extinct."

"There's a few still around," Holister replied dryly. "Honestly, I don't know as much about them as I should, but they were available for a mere pittance, so I brought them on board." Aiden pondered this for a moment, but mentally filed it away for later consideration.

"How much were you paid?" Maggie inquired.

"Five thousand gold sovereigns," Holister answered, drawing a low whistle from Ronan and a look of incredulity from Aiden. "I wasn't keen on taking this job, but the offer just kept going up until I couldn't say no."

"That's a staggering amount of gold," Maggie breathed. "Who could possibly afford it?"

"Probably only three people outside of the royal family," Holister said. "Senator Augustus Johnson, Ronald Bartlett and Lady Aryssa Chelsea."

"Bartlett's dead," Aiden informed her. "We might have to look into what this Lady Chelsea is up to. I assume the rest of Bartlett's family still has the bulk of his wealth, too. God knows the man was involved in this from the beginning, but there has to be someone with connections to the family fortune for all of this to still be in motion."

"Yes, his brother, Thomas Bartlett," Holister said. "He lives in a modest place in the north of the city, and he's a likely candidate. Senator Johnson is a shifty one, and he's been accused of shady dealings behind the scenes so it wouldn't surprise me if he was involved somehow too."

"Where do we find him?"

"You'd either have to gain entry to the Senate, or go break into his mansion," Holister breathed. "It's some sort of historical mansion in the north-eastern part of the city."

"I have to say, I'm surprised to find you so... co-operative," Maggie remarked.

"You beat me," Holister shrugged, somewhat awkwardly considering her injuries. "My operation is ruined and as I said, I'd like to keep living, if at all possible."

"There's more to it," Pacian added from nearby. "She's not telling you everything, I guarantee it."

"In that case I think we'll let the king's spymaster, Mister Kinsey take it from here," Aiden replied, drawing a less than cheerful look from the beaten assassin. "So you remember him, yes? That's who you're going to have to deal with if you don't talk to me."

"I swear, that's all I know," Holister said emphatically.

"I have one last question. The plan, as I understand it, was to kidnap the princess back in Bracksford, so you and your people were never meant to be involved. Yet you've been here in the city for at least a week... which means you were hired for some other reason. Explain it to me." Holister stared back at Aiden for a long moment before answering.

"You're a sharp one, I'll give you that," he said, "but I can't answer that question so you'd better just take me to Kinsey... unless of course you've got the stomach to get the information out of me."

"He doesn't, but I do," Pacian said, leering at the beaten assassin.

"Kinsey would be more than happy to take it from here," Aiden finished evenly, ignoring Pacian once more.

They were a weary group indeed as they made their way out of the complex. The assassin was too injured to complain, and staggered outside to be marched through the streets with Ronan's sword at her back.

They made their way upstairs and upon opening the front door to the old building, once more looked out upon the snow-covered streets of Fairloch.

"We're in the docklands," Ronan remarked, looking out onto the street. "We're fortunate it's snowing again — it'll keep the streets clear. Come on gorgeous, you can go first," he said to Holister.

Valennia's armour had been ruined in the fight and she shivered in the frigid conditions, so Aiden took off his longcoat and draped it over her shoulders. She gave him a wan smile and nodded in appreciation, subdued and spent after the titanic fight.

After roughly ten minutes of trudging through the cold streets, they reached the Fair Maiden Inn and were all properly chilled from the experience, but they were intercepted by a familiar looking man with a cane, his dark-haired associate Kara and two City Watchmen.

"Mister Wainwright, I do believe you have something that belongs to me," Spymaster Kinsey greeted them.

"How did you know we'd be coming here tonight?" Aiden asked as his companions filed back inside the inn.

"I may be blind below ground, but on these streets, little escapes my notice," the spymaster replied, giving a nod to Kara who smiled and nodded at the recognition. Kinsey gestured to the guard who took Holister into custody. "Congratulations on your success. I must admit I was surprised to learn of exactly who you were parading through the streets."

"It's not over," Aiden warned. "Some of her associates got away, and she knows more that he isn't telling us."

"I'll see if I can persuade further co-operation," Kinsey said. "Get some rest and see to your injuries, Aiden. I will contact you again shortly for a proper debriefing." Aiden nodded, and watched the spymaster walk Holister away until they disappeared into the night. Pacian was the only one still standing outside with him.

"You know, if Nellise had killed her, we'd never have learned anything," Aiden pointed out. "I can't really expect you to not be you, but you need to learn some limits."

"There's no guarantee what she said is the truth," Pacian retorted. "She was filling our heads with bullshit just to buy her associates some time to get away."

"Maybe," Aiden answered dubiously. "I hope Kinsey has better luck with him than we did. Let's get inside, I'm freezing."

"Oh, here are your goggles back," Pacian said, taking the device off his head and handing them back to Aiden. One look from the soft lantern light showed they were covered in the same thick muck as Pacian.

"Why don't you hang on to them," Aiden muttered as they walked into the welcome warmth of the inn.

Chapter Fifteen

The thought of ascending the stairs to their rooms was too much, so they collapsed on the sofas near the fire to unwind from the tense fight. Nellise and Maggie undertook the task of seeing to their injuries, for they were a mess of lacerations, abrasions and bruises after the battle. Aiden slowly peeled off his plated leathers and undershirt, doing his best to avoid re-opening any clotted wounds. Bowls of hot water, spirits and clean bandages were provided by the inn's sole remaining waitress. She had been cleaning up after a busy night before Aiden and his companions came through the door.

Nellise was silent and pensive as she worked, clearly struggling with some issues. Aiden had never seen that side of her, when she stood over the defeated assassin and threatened to continue beating her. Aiden asked her about this as delicately as he could, but she was in no mood to talk.

"Not now," she answered quietly, allowing her pale hair to fall in front of her face.

Once they had been bandaged up satisfactorily, they finally headed upstairs for a long overdue rest. Aiden slid into his bed and lay there for some time, exhausted but unable to sleep. It wasn't that his mind was distracted by recent events or mysteries as yet unsolved, but rather a faint scratching noise from somewhere in the room that kept catching his attention.

He tossed and turned for a few minutes, but if anything, this seemed to make the sound grow louder. Aiden finally threw off his covers and went over to an elaborate dresser near the door and found the source of the noise.

A large hourglass was sitting on the dresser, the white sand contained within slowly sifting through from the top chamber to the bottom one, creating a noise far louder than should have been possible. Each grain of sand scraped at the others as it hit the growing pile at the bottom, and Aiden suddenly had the feeling he needed to be somewhere.

Looking up into a large mirror before him, he saw his own reflection in the near-darkness of his room, yet over his shoulder was a large, reptilian eye gazing directly at him, suspended in a cloud of shifting purple hues.

Gasping, Aiden turned around and saw a corridor leading away behind him, constructed of old stone and with a familiar darkness. Short tunnels led off either side as he crept along with the sound of a hollow wind sending a chill down his spine. The corridor twisted and turn, and before he knew it Aiden was lost in a maze, his heart racing.

He came to an abrupt halt when he heard an ominous noise to his left, the sound of something heavy slamming into the ground. Dust fell from the ceiling as the entire corridor shook and slowly, his mouth dry, Aiden turned to look down one of the side tunnels. A dark, reptilian shape was silhouetted against the faint lantern light in the distance. Although he couldn't make out any details, he knew it was looking right at him.

Aiden turned and saw another shape in the darkness watching him. His heart was pounding in his ears as his instinct to run flared up. He charged along the corridor through ankle-deep water, well aware from the sounds of heavy footsteps that he was being pursued.

The corridor turned and went down a wide staircase, which Aiden took three stairs at a time. Water flowed into the passage from above with the sounds of dragons approaching from behind him growing louder by the moment. Thinking quickly, Aiden turned and hid under the staircase, finding a small alcove that he could duck inside.

He lay down in the water, almost completely submerged beneath the surface save for his face, and looked out past the staircase before him in breathless anticipation. A dark, draconic form leaped over the stairs, its shadow blotting out the light for a few moments as it lumbered past. Aiden managed to get a quick glimpse of the dragon as it dashed down the corridor. It was quite emaciated, and he thought at first that it was Salinder, but this dragon was green in colour.

Holding his breath, he lowered his face beneath the water to wait until it had passed him. Nearly a minute went by before he lifted his head to take in a fresh breath and saw two gigantic eyes peering through the gap in the stairs at him and a deafening bellow echoed off the walls accompanied by Aiden's scream.

* * *

He jolted awake, gasping for breath and trying to untangle himself from his bedclothes. He sat up and looked around, noticing that it was daytime and that Pacian was staring at him from across the room with a dagger in his hand. He had clearly just awoken, and his look of terror was disconcerting to say the least.

"What the hell are you screaming about?" Pacian asked, glancing around the room.

"I... it was a dream," Aiden stammered, still trying to shake the horrid feeling of being hunted.

"More like a nightmare," Pacian remarked, sheathing his dagger and taking a deep breath. "A really loud nightmare." Aiden rubbed his face with his hands and then poured himself a glass of water from a pitcher with shaking hands. He had to assume that Salinder was trying to communicate with him, with clearly mixed results. Aiden briefly grasped the shard hanging around his neck and thought he could detect a little warmth, though it might have been his imagination.

It was difficult to translate the imagery in the nightmare to anything specific, except for the palpable sense of urgency. He didn't understand why he'd been told to speak with the wizard Desmond about contacting the dragon again, when the cranky bastard didn't seem to have a clue what he was talking about. Aiden was beginning to feel the need to speak with Salinder again soon, and he would have to think of a way to make it happen, short of dying again.

Looking out through the window, Aiden saw a blanket of white snow piling up on the streets, with more coming down from the slate-grey sky. The winds were strong and cold, and few people could be seen attempting to traverse the bleak streets below. It was a perfect day to rest and recuperate by the fire after their victory on the previous day, and judging by the blue and purple welts on Aiden's body, he was in dire need of it.

Dressing himself in several layers of clean clothes, Aiden made his way to the door and upon opening it had the idea that Sayana might have some insight into the strange nightmare he'd experienced last night. She and Maggie shared a room across the hall, so Aiden crept over and knocked softly to give the ladies fair warning of his impending entrance.

"Sy, are you awake? I had the most bizarre nightmare last night that I—" Aiden said as he opened the door, but stopped abruptly in mid-sentence when he looked inside and saw Sayana still in bed, with Ronan in her arms. Both of them stared back at Aiden in surprise, and the whole moment seemed to freeze.

"Can you give me a minute here mate?" Ronan asked, the first to regain his composure. "No, make it two — I have a reputation to maintain."

"Excuse me," Aiden choked, emotions he didn't know he had welling up and threatening to overwhelm him. He hastily closed the door and backed away with the feeling of a heavy weight upon his chest.

"What's going on out here?" Pacian asked, peering out of his room half-dressed.

"Nothing," Aiden muttered, and then turned and walked downstairs, wondering why he felt so betrayed when they hadn't even technically been together. His head told him that Sayana was free to choose to live however and with whomever she wanted, but his heart was possessed of its own agenda.

At that moment, he felt a deep ache in his heart from feelings he'd been suppressing since she had ended their brief relationship in the wilds near Bracksford nearly two weeks ago. The flurry of events had allowed him to ignore it, but only once he realised there was no getting her back did he feel the full weight of losing her.

The common room of the Fair Maiden was packed this morning, and although Aiden wasn't completely aware of the time of day, he knew the foul weather had something to do with it. Commoners and merchants alike sat at their tables with platters of hot food and drink, waiting out the storm in comfort and security. It was a scene that briefly reminded Aiden of the Bracksfordshire Arms Inn during the unnatural weather that had people crowding the common room, awaiting clearer skies.

He didn't see any of his companions at the tables nearby, so he picked one of the few empty seats over near the wall and sat down, oblivious to the relaxed and friendly atmosphere around him as he tried to process his feelings. After a few minutes he caught the attention of a waitress and ordered some food, just as Pacian came down the stairs to join him, with Maggie in tow.

"You'll never guess who I saw in Sy's bedroom just now," he blurted.

"Ronan," Aiden answered without hesitation.

"No, it was Ronan — oh, you know. I guess that's that why you look so miserable," Pacian remarked awkwardly. "I'm sorry mate, that has to hurt."

"Yeah," Aiden grumbled. This was shaping up to be a very lousy day.

"I suspected you two had something together, but it's not my place to really comment on this," Maggie added shrewdly. "Young people will be young people.

Aiden noticed Ronan, still getting dressed, making his way toward them through the crowd. This didn't help Aiden's current goal of erasing the image of him lying on top of Sayana from his mind.

"Aiden, look, I didn't know you and she were..." the sailor began hastily as he arrived at the table, awkwardly tucking in a loose shirt with his uninjured arm.

"Don't worry about it. I have a sneaking suspicion that we're not together anymore."

"Ronan, I think you should go see a cleric or something," Pacian remarked. "Sy seems to have infected you with 'elf-ears'." Aiden blinked at this and looked at the sides of Ronan's uncovered head, noticing that his ears were slightly pointed at the back, much like Sayana's.

"Yeah, uh, that's actually one of the reasons we hit it off so well," Ronan explained, self-consciously covering his ears with his long hair. "We're both orphaned half-elves who are also properly talented and sexy."

"It's not a big deal really, there are plenty of us with beautiful ears like those," Maggie added, pulling aside her grey-streaked auburn locks to reveal her own pointed ears. "In fact, when you get right down to it, humans and dwarves are the ones with the strange, non-pointed ears."

"She's right, you lot are a bunch of freaks," Ronan agreed laconically. "But seriously, you never said you two were an item Aiden, so really, you've only got yourself to blame."

"I don't recall assigning blame to anyone for anything," Aiden said quietly, noticing the serving girl arriving with their meal.

"Right... well, I think I'll leave you to eat your meal in peace."

"You're going out into that weather?" Pacian asked, picking up some hot-buttered bread from the tray that was placed before them.

"Yeah it's cold, but I feel a powerful need to be elsewhere right now," Ronan replied, slightly ashamed as he turned and made for the exit. "I'll be back soon and we'll talk about our next move."

"What happened to Nellise?" Maggie asked after he'd left. "I can sense her energies are very uneven after last night."

"And she's having a crisis of faith," Aiden answered delicately, giving his friend a dark look.

"Hey, don't look at me like that," Pace snapped, "I was just reminding her of the truth of the situation, and she backed down. Mark my words, Holister is too dangerous to keep alive. But I guess she's not ready for doing what needs to be done."

"So, you're actually trying to turn her into you?" Maggie asked, distaste evident on her tiny features.

"It's for her own good," Pace said with a shrug.

"I'm too tired and sore to correct that statement," Maggie sighed, touching her injured arm which seemed to have improved greatly since the previous night. "Listen, I don't want to sound selfish, but I'm running out of time. I haven't had any news from the lord of Amalis, and I have to assume my order is still plotting to do something big in the near future. Your help would be greatly appreciated."

"I hear you and believe me, I want this whole situation cleaned up as soon as possible too," Aiden assured her. "We've dealt a blow to the assassins, and I think we're getting closer to putting a stop to it all so if you can hold on for a couple more days..."

"It's not me that has to hold on, Aiden," she pointed out. "Two more days is probably all the time I can afford to give. You gave me your word you would help me, so I expect you to follow through on it. I've sacrificed a lot to help you out, after all."

"You have, and I will," Aiden promised. "Just be aware that we've also sworn to help the Crown, and that has to take precedence."

"I understand, but my patience has limits," Maggie answered. "I'm going to do some healing on us and then go and clean myself up. You two boys try to stay out of trouble, okay?" She pulled a crystal out of her pouch and proceeded to do just that, touching each of them on the shoulder briefly and leaving behind a tingling sensation spreading through their injuries. As she walked away, Aiden spied Nellise moving through the crowd towards the stairs.

"You saw that too?" Pacian remarked, his eyes lingering on her distant figure.

"Leave her alone, Pace," Aiden advised. "If she wants to talk about it, I'm sure she'll let us know." Pacian shrugged and went back to his meal. After their second helping of the stew, Aiden's heart felt heavy as spied Sayana coming down the stairs searching for someone. As soon as she spotted him, she started to move through the crowd towards their table.

"Bugger this," Aiden muttered, having no desire to speak with her right now, as he wasn't sure he could trust himself. He abruptly stood and decided this was a good time to have one last try at getting some information out of Desmond. He was still disturbed by the nightmare he'd had last night, the vivid imagery surely the work of his elusive dragon ally.

"Can I borrow this?" Aiden asked, grabbing Pacian's cloak from the back of his chair without waiting for an answer. He threw it around his shoulders as he headed towards the door, noticing Valennia approaching from across the room, still wearing his longcoat. "Not now," Aiden told her as she seemed about to speak, moving past the surprised woman as he tried to lose Sayana.

The cold weather hit him in the face like a block of ice, and he wrapped himself tightly in the borrowed cloak as he strode out into the bitter winds. It wasn't far to the University tower from here, but a quick glance behind him showed that Sayana had not been dissuaded by the frigid conditions, for she was following him through the snow.

Aiden managed to keep his distance from the persistent girl until he reached the tower a few minutes later, though pausing to open the large double-doors gave her the chance to catch up with him.

"Couldn't you hear me calling you?" she exclaimed, shaking from the cold as she stumbled inside the foyer right behind Aiden.

"Was that you? I thought it was the wind," he replied dryly. "You're mad for being out in this weather without a coat, by the way."

"You didn't give me much choice," she protested. "I needed to talk to you about this morning."

"You're a free woman, Sy," Aiden replied as he started walking across the large circular chamber to the stairwell. "You can be with who you want to be with." The metal guardian stood in the middle of the floor, passively keeping watch over the University.

"I hadn't meant for you to see that," she told him quietly so that her voice wouldn't carry in the stone chamber. "Please understand, I'm going through a difficult time here in the city. Ronan was there in my time of need, but before you say it, I hadn't intended for things to go that far."

"He's had his eye on you for a while now, did you know that?" Aiden asked, taking the spiral stairs up to Desmond's laboratory.

"Did he? I never noticed," Sayana mused. "Anyway, I did not think it would bother you, for you have the interest of another woman."

"I do?" Aiden said, stopping on the stairs to look at her in confusion.

"You are as blind as I was about Ronan it seems," Sayana remarked.

"What, Criosa?" Aiden asked incredulously. "She's a princess Sy, and I know you don't know much about royalty, but I'm sure her father has arranged for her to meet another noble somewhere. It's the way things are done in civilised society, and a country boy such as myself isn't part of that picture. Now if you'll excuse me, Desmond and I are about to have a very interesting conversation."

"You're trying to talk to that old buffoon again?" Sayana asked as Aiden continued up the stairs. He didn't bother to answer, for he still felt betrayed by her and whether or not his feelings were justified, they were still distorting his thoughts on the matter.

Upon reaching the laboratory Aiden opened the door and walked right in without knocking, his mood black and his patience already worn thin. The lab was much the same as when he had last seen it. At the table sat the cranky wizard, who was looking up at Aiden with an imperious gaze.

"What in blazes do you think you're doing, barging in here like a madman?" he thundered, standing up and grasping a staff that leaned against his desk.

"I have it on good authority that you know what I'm talking about when I say the word 'Salinder' to you," Aiden answered in a measured voice. "If you give me some nonsense about a wood plane or some other tool I'll knock you on your backside." He pulled the shard of crystal that hung around his neck out for the wizard to see, holding it so the light caught the smooth surface. "Do you know what this is?"

"A piece of glass... that carries with it a miniscule aura of power," Desmond replied, his curiosity replacing his outrage. "From the shape of it, I could easily assume that it used to be part of something larger. What has this to do with anything?"

"There is a dragon of gold in the Aether that communicates to me in my sleep, using this," Aiden explained bluntly. "It used to be a ball of crystal, but I broke it a few years ago. Salinder has one of these, and was able to connect with me through it, mostly in the form of dreams. I am told you have the means to communicate with the dragon and if you are able to, I would request you do so, right now."

With a flick of his staff, Desmond caused the door Aiden had walked through to swing shut, leaving a startled looking Sayana on the other side as the bolt slid across to lock it in place.

"My dear Mister Wainwright, I do owe you an apology," Desmond explained. "Please understand that the king swore me to secrecy on this matter, and had you been this forthcoming on our previous meetings, we could have forgone the substantial waste of time that ensued."

"Then you do know what I'm talking about?" Aiden asked, relieved to finally have the truth.

"Yes yes, I'm not a complete nincompoop," he gruffly answered, returning to form. "I must confess that I did have a good laugh about the bevelling plane quip afterwards though. I'm quite the cut-up around here, you know."

"So, the king knows about Salinder as well?" Aiden asked impatiently, not finding this area of discussion as amusing as the old wizard.

"Indeed he does, Mister Wainwright. This surprises you?"

"I'd like to know more about all that, if you don't mind," Aiden said evenly.

"I do mind, I mind very much," Desmond retorted. "I only tell you what I have because it is clear you have some knowledge about this affair, but that does not entitle me to break my oath to His Majesty. Clearly you have a connection to this entire matter, and I will discover what that is by going directly to the source. Now, let's set up, shall we?"

Desmond turned and walked across the room, heading to a large piece of cloth draped over a large something. He pulled back the fabric and revealed a metal cylinder over two yards in height, with small pipes snaking around its base and a glass-like tube running down the middle. Aiden's breath caught as he realised he was looking at a duplicate of the cylinder he'd seen back in Bracksford, in the possession of a sage named Dale who Aiden had worked with briefly.

"Please refrain from touching this device, as it is a rather unstable contraption that predates the formation of our Kingdom," Desmond advised, removing another cloth from a nearby table and uncovering several curious instruments.

"So this actually works?" Aiden asked, trying to keep his excitement in check.

"Of course it works, what on earth are you talking about?" Desmond replied gruffly. "Usually Terinus would handle this sort of thing but I'm fairly confident I can accomplish what we need. Now just stand back and let a professional handle this, if you please." Aiden took a few steps backward, his gaze locked on the device before him. It was in worse condition than the one back in Dale's house, with numerous scratches, dents and the like, but otherwise it was identical in appearance.

Desmond fetched a small wand-like stick and placed it into a receptacle, and the similarities with its counterpart ended there. A small blue light appeared on the panel and a dull humming sound could be heard emanating from the central tube. A trail of blue sparks started to dance around inside it, growing with intensity every second.

Aiden took a few more steps back without even thinking as the device started to vibrate intensely, but Desmond seemed to take it in his stride. Withdrawing the small wand from the panel, he pointed it towards the centre of the room where he had placed a small metal disk. The wizard intoned a series of strange words Aiden didn't recognise, and lightning shot forth from the wand, striking the metal disk and creating a blinding flash of light.

Shielding his eyes with one hand, the luminance gradually faded into a purple mist, allowing Aiden to see exactly what was happening. There was a tall, mirror-like ellipse with violet light swirling inside it in the middle of the room.

"Behold the powers of the ancient world," Desmond intoned theatrically over the loud, unsteady hum from the cylinder behind him. "Before you stands a doorway, a portal into the aether that one may step — wait, where are you going?" His speech was cut off as Aiden stepped through the ellipse, which was as easy as walking through an archway. Once his head had crossed over, the sounds of the cylinder disappeared instantly, and were replaced by the soft echoing ambience of the Aether.

The sensation of standing here in the flesh was entirely different from his last visit, likely due to his being dead at the time. The purple mist surrounding the small island he stood upon seemed to be moving, something he didn't recall noticing before.

Turning to his right he saw the bulk of the golden dragon, its immensity almost blocking the silhouette of the castle wall and gate standing behind it. The awe Aiden felt was tempered by a measure of pity, for the once magnificent creature was a shadow of its former self, bearing upon its withered hide the atrophy of years.

You are late, spoke a clear, deep voice in his mind. Despite the dragon's appearance, its "voice" had lost none of its potency.

"I didn't know there was a schedule to keep," Aiden replied, feeling small and insignificant. Desmond stepped into the realm behind him and looked around, momentarily taken aback by the scene.

Did you not receive my messages? The dragon asked.

"I had a weird dream once but I recall no specific message," Aiden wondered after a moment of thought.

It appears my direct control over this device is not as complete as I had hoped, Salinder remarked, opening his claw to reveal the glowing sphere within.

"All I could fathom was a sense of urgency and fear," Aiden explained. "Now that I'm here, just tell me directly what you were trying to say." A faint tremor ran through the ground beneath his feet, accompanied by an ominous rumbling sound that echoed in the mist. Salinder raised his head and looked to the castle gate until the tremor subsided.

"Forgive my interruption," Desmond spoke in the politest manner Aiden had ever heard from him. "I do not believe this reality is altogether stable, so perhaps you should expedite your conversation."

It is stable enough, Salinder replied, resting his head once more on the ground before them. The means by which you came to be here however, is not, so your advice remains pertinent, wizard. Expedite.

"The two of you do indeed seem to be acquainted, which answers my questions regarding the veracity of Aiden's statements," Desmond continued. "I would ask, however, if you would be so kind as to tell me why exactly you have included this young man in such a sensitive matter? Or not... as you deem fit," the wizard blurted after a few moments of the dragon silently gazing at him with one huge golden eye.

"Before we go any further, I need to ask something," Aiden stated. "My memory isn't what it used to be. My entire childhood is unknown to me, and I want to know if you had anything to do with that."

In a way, yes, the dragon replied, and Aiden immediately felt a wave of shock sweep through him. Your injuries at the time were restrictive, and I could not save all of you. Something had to be left behind, and I chose the least useful aspect of your being to sacrifice. You are otherwise intact, and able to function in the required manner.

You were dying, Aiden, and I stitched your soul together from what scattered remnants I could grasp from the Aether. You live, because I will it to be so and if what you are now is little more than a tool that I use to fulfil my task, then that is how it shall be. Aiden was momentarily speechless, hearing Sayana's worst fears confirmed at last.

But there is no need for animosity, Salinder continued in a more relaxed manner. We strive for the same goal — the protection of your Kingdom. Desmond looked on silently, content to watch the proceedings with a keen eye while Aiden paced around in an effort to calm himself and afraid at the news he was indeed a puppet of the powerful creature. He took in the scene around him and realised the dragon was basically trapped here on this island of reality, withering away for their benefit.

Do you remember the battle of Fort Highmarch? Salinder asked.

"I felt like I lived through that fight hundreds of times over," Aiden muttered in reply. "How could I ever forget it?"

Does the land beneath you seem familiar? Does the castle wall behind me?"

"Yes... yes this is all from the battle when you confronted that iron warrior," Aiden continued, recalling the smaller details. He realised what else had been within the range of the dragon's incantation at the time, and a cold shiver ran down Aiden's spine. "You once said you brought all this with you — wait, does that mean it is here as well?"

Salinder did not answer, though Aiden felt his eyes drawn towards the castle gate behind the dragon. There were slender chains drawn across the front that he hadn't noticed with a casual glance, and it may have been his imagination, but he thought he could see the door flexing slightly, as if being pushed.

"What's on the other side of that door?" Aiden asked quietly, not sure he wanted to know the answer.

Beyond that door lies a pocket of null-space, in which I have imprisoned the entity that King Alaric the second, the grandfather of your current monarch, referred to as the Ironlord, the dragon explained. You witnessed its might on the field at the Battle of Fort Highmarch. There is a storied history behind the origin and destructive life of this construct, but for now I will only say that it is a threat to all life on Feydwiir.

"Then why not destroy it?"

"It cannot be destroyed," Desmond explained grimly. "Entire armies have stood before its might and none have survived. On expeditions to neighbouring lands we have found remnants of their civilisations that bear the distinctive footprints of this infernal contraption. In his righteous desire to avoid the same fate for Aielund, King Alaric the second made a pact."

"With you, I assume," Aiden surmised, looking to Salinder.

Realising that it could not be destroyed, Alaric came to me and begged for another solution, the dragon said. If it could not be destroyed, then it must be imprisoned. But attempts to transport it through magical means to a holding place deep within the earth failed, leaving one option — banishment to another plane of reality. But a prison without guards is quickly circumvented, even in this place, and so it was that I agreed to spend the rest of my days ensuring the Ironlord could not escape and return to plague the world.

"And what price did you exact from Alaric for this service?" Aiden asked warily.

Are you aware of the history of dragonkind? came the question.

"Of course, it is well documented," Aiden replied curiously. "You used to dominate the entire island, but as man's influence spread your kin were hunted down and slain, to protect cattle and innocent lives."

What you so casually speak of is the wholesale genocide of my species, Salinder thundered in his mind, and the two men clutched at their heads from the volume. What few remain are bitter, angry, or insane from the perpetual war mankind has waged upon us. Before man there were others who toyed with our very existence, and I would have an end to it. The pact I made with Alaric was to stop the slaughter of my kin within the realm. It is for this reason that I keep my vigil, and because the Ironlord would eliminate my cousins from the world just as surely as Man.

Aiden silently pondered this for a long moment, glancing at Desmond to see an ashamed look upon the old wizard's weathered features and feeling some of that himself.

"What is it you want from me?" Aiden asked, curious as to what role he was supposed to play in all this.

My time grows short, Aiden, Salinder replied tiredly. I have kept my word, and remained at my post these long years, but even I am not immortal. I was ancient and weary even before Alaric came to me, a century ago, and now the weight of years grows heavier by the day. Soon I will not be able to keep it locked away any longer and this reality will collapse, releasing the Ironlord back into the world.

"So it would just fall back to Feydwiir?" Aiden asked, puzzled.

In a fashion, though it is more akin to swimming than falling, as you may recall.

"Then would it appear again where you first left the world?" Aiden inquired. "Would it not simply be stuck here floating around forever?"

It would float for only a brief time, for there are other forces at work in this place.

"The Aether is ever-shifting," Desmond explained. "Much like the sea, there are tides, eddies and currents that constantly move about. To continue the metaphor, there are places where the Aether becomes shallow, almost touching our world. There is only one such place that has been documented on the island of Feydwiir, and it is to this place that the land we now stand upon has drifted. When this reality is no more, the Ironlord will be deposited at this location almost instantaneously, free to continue its rampage unchecked."

You cannot count upon the aid of my kin any further, Salinder added. You asked what I wanted from you? I need you to find a way to destroy it once and for all.

"But... you said it couldn't be destroyed," Aiden replied quietly, thunderstruck by this revelation.

We were not able to find a weakness before it became imperative to act, the dragon corrected. Research has been ongoing, but those who carry on this process are old and tired. You have an aptitude for knowledge, Aiden, and I need you to carry on this task.

"Much has been learned and uncovered this past century," Desmond explained solemnly, "but our numbers are growing fewer every year and young blood is needed to replace those who have passed on. We have to be careful who we talk to however, for there are those in the world who would actively welcome the return of this unstoppable monstrosity. Discretion is called for, which is why we must ask that you mention this to no one, not even your closest friends. Not yet, anyway."

"They wouldn't believe me if I told them," Aiden muttered dryly, recalling the reactions he had received when he'd mentioned the dream he'd had over and over again. "I don't know if I'll be able to help you, but I'll do my best to find a way to stop this thing. Is this what you were trying to tell me in those dreams?"

No, that was another matter concerning my cousins and the device which you... The dragon's eye suddenly opened wide and stared at Aiden. A scream echoed from behind him, and whirling around he saw Sayana standing there, having just stepped through the portal to the tower.

She was gaping at the dragon before them, and Aiden could see light visible from under her clothes as she summoned power to protect herself. A challenging roar blasted from Salinder's gigantic maw as the ancient dragon's head rose up, and suddenly Sayana was encased in a shimmering bubble of energy, her arms pinned against her sides.

HOW DARE YOU ENTER MY PRESENCE, Salinder thundered as the ground beneath their feet began to shake once more. The dragon's head whirled around to look at the gate behind them and saw the chains straining to hold it shut. A loud, rhythmic thumping sound came from beyond, and Aiden looked on in terror as he realized the Ironlord was trying to free itself.

"The portal is collapsing," Desmond cried over the rumbling sound. "We need to get back to the tower immediately!"

It is taking advantage of the distraction, BEGONE! Salinder told them, his telepathic voice strong and clear over the rumbling around them. Sayana was thrown back through the portal with a squeal while Salinder shifted his bulk to concentrate on holding the gate in place. Desmond took Aiden by the shoulder and thrust him through the flickering portal to the tower beyond.

Instead of the easy step through, this time the journey felt like agony as the rippling doorway tore at him and although it only lasted a brief moment, it was so sharp and intense that darkness descended over him just after he felt the cold stone of the tower floor beneath his cheek.

Chapter Sixteen

Aiden slowly opened his eyes and tried to recall what had happened. He looked around the room and saw the mundane furniture, assorted devices and artefacts of Desmond's laboratory. There was a piercing rattle echoing through the air and the old wizard was unconscious, lying on the stone just next to him. The portal itself had vanished, leaving only a blackened scorch mark on the metal floor plate.

Aiden slowly got back on his feet and walked over to Sayana, also unconscious but evidently free of the dragon's binding incantation. Satisfied that both of them were going to survive, Aiden turned his attention to the metallic rattling noise coming from the cylinder nearby.

The blue glow was flickering in the tube, and the noise emitted from the device was slowly turning into a screeching sound and smoke was pouring from the tube. Scanning the panel, Aiden saw a flashing red light with a strange rune above it. His curiosity outstripping his caution, he pressed the worn metal plate and the red light vanished, along with the horrid screeching sound which faded into a sort of whimpering noise and was soon gone completely.

He studied the contraption for a few moments, noticing that the blue light was still glowing within the tube, though it was no longer swirling around. A thought occurred to him as he looked down at the panel again and saw a familiar switch and pressed it, flipping open a small hatch only inches across. Rummaging around in his belt pouch, he pulled out the small cube whose secrets had continued to elude him for weeks.

His hands shaking with trepidation, he fitted the cube into the square slot and gently pushed it in. When he had done this back at Dale's place in Bracksford, nothing further had happened. This time he was rewarded with a curious display of coloured lights next to the hatch. A faint humming sound could be heard from the contraption and the blue glow began to fade from the tube.

"Don't touch that, it is an incredibly delicate artefact," Desmond croaked, picking himself up off the floor and dusting off his robe. Aiden quickly attempted to pull the cube out of the slot, but it refused to budge and he was reluctant to try and force it lest he damage either device. He spun around and stood between the wizard and the device, hoping Desmond wasn't going to come over for a closer look.

"It's okay, I managed to make it stop," Aiden assured him, trying to appear casual. "Are you okay? Perhaps you should sit down for a moment."

"Nonsense, I'm not some doddering old fool," Desmond muttered, leaning heavily on his staff and doddering over to a wall to lean against it for a few moments. Aiden moved his right hand to the panel behind him and felt his way around to the cube, and then to the small switch next to it that should pop it back out again. It wouldn't budge, however, no matter how hard he pressed down upon it.

"We were lucky to make it out of there," Desmond said, looking at Sayana's unmoving form lying on the flagstones. "From Salinder's reaction, I can assume that your friend is more dangerous than I had accounted for."

"I don't know what she's done to warrant that sort of response," Aiden protested, feeling the switch move under his hand at last and grasping the cube before it could fall onto the floor. It was quite warm, but not uncomfortably so. With a minor feat of dexterity, he managed to close the small hatch on the panel without looking, although it did make a tiny click sound as it closed, prompting Desmond to glare at him.

"Stand away from the device, Aiden," he ordered, "I cannot take the chance that you might inadvertently damage it."

"Of course," Aiden responded, slipping the cube into his pouch as he moved over to Sayana. "That whole experience was quite overwhelming," he continued, speaking honestly. "I can scarcely believe I've been asked to help destroy that whatever it is. I'm not even a proper wizard."

"A fact of which I am keenly aware," Desmond grumbled. "Nevertheless, I am not one to ignore the will of a dragon, much less my own king, and so I shall make it my task to assist you wherever possible. You needn't be too concerned though, as you'll be more of a research assistant than anything else. It's not like you were being asked to slay the damned thing single-handedly."

"I still have to finish up this assassin business as well," Aiden mused quietly, feeling overwhelmed from every direction.

"Continue your work tracking down the perpetrators of this conspiracy, and once that is resolved I shall help you to understand more of what is at stake here," Desmond said.

"I have one last question," Aiden responded. "You mentioned the dragon's little island of reality had drifted to that shallow place where our worlds connect. Where is that place?"

"It resides within the western borders of Tulsone," Desmond replied tersely, clearing papers from an overstuffed chair nearby. "A small temple was built there long ago to mark the place. Over the years, prophets and monks have flocked there to meditate, unwittingly touching the Aether in the process. Soon the Ironlord will appear there and begin its cycle of destruction anew."

"Tulsone... but that's where the king is waging his war," Aiden surmised. "So that's what it's all about? He's trying to get to that temple and hit it before it hurts anyone else?"

"I'm afraid so," Desmond nodded, sitting in his overstuffed chair at last and appearing relieved for doing so. "His Majesty sought to gain permission from King Evariste Davignon of Tulsone to take his army through their lands, but this was met with an understandable measure of suspicion and mistrust. Negotiations broke down and King Seamus was forced to invade in order to be in position in time, thus resulting in an unnecessary war in which thousands have perished."

Aiden could scarcely imagine the magnitude of what he had learned today. Sayana was finally waking up, and looked up at Aiden with a vague expression on her face. His feeling of betrayal felt insignificant compared to the events taking place in the world right now, so he pushed aside any childish emotions and helped her get back on her feet.

"Are you hurt?" Aiden asked.

"Just a few bruises," she whispered tremulously. "If I'd known what was on the other side of that glowing door I wouldn't have stepped through it. What on earth were the two of you doing in there?" Aiden exchanged a glance with Desmond, unsure of what to say. It was possible she'd heard some of what they'd spoken about, but if she called him out on any lies it wasn't going to be the end of the world.

"Getting to the bottom of a few mysteries," he told her cryptically. "I think I should tell you that you were right about me — that dragon does have a hold over me, but believe it or not it's using me to help the Kingdom anyway. And since I'm already doing that, I guess we can think of Salinder as an ally. But why does it hate you so much? When you were thrown back through the portal I could swear he was trying to kill you."

"Maybe he's sensing my distrust and hatred of him and his kind," Sayana answered in a menacing voice. "Even if this 'Salinder' seems benign, other dragons in recent history have not been so benevolent Aiden, and you would do well to be cautious around that one." Aiden didn't answer, his attention caught by a tattoo on her exposed shoulder that set his mind thinking about sorcerers, and the dragon's reaction to her.

"Desmond, when you were using that strange device over there you mentioned that 'Terinus, the king's wizard usually handles this'," he said to the old wizard. "Did he ever actually go through the portal to speak with Salinder directly?"

"Yes, but only once," Desmond answered. "I don't know what transpired between them but Terinus did retreat from the portal after less than a minute, swearing never to step inside again. Ever since then only the king has actually crossed the threshold into that realm."

"Are you sure Terinus isn't a sorcerer?"

"I have never witnessed him using sorcery, and I've been here at the University for a most of my life, young man," Desmond replied, sounding grumpier by the minute. "His command of magic is the greatest I have ever seen, and it takes a lifetime to attain the mastery he exhibits with each incantation. Even if he had some natural talent for it, the possibility of him also achieving any degree of sorcerous power while also mastering conventional magic is preposterous — there just aren't enough years in one lifetime, my boy."

"Then perhaps it's power itself Salinder distrusts," Aiden surmised, looking at Sayana in a new light.

"Nonsense," Desmond huffed, picking up on what Aiden was thinking. "We conducted long-established tests on her and concluded she was no more harm than that damnable student that blew the top off the other tower. Mark my words, it's irresponsible young people like him with access to equipment well beyond their ability to control who are the real threat to this country. No, this poor young woman is cursed, unable to enact even minor invocations without putting herself in bed for a day to recover."

"Well, it's probably time we got going," Aiden responded.

"Yes, well, go about your business then, but remember what you have learned here today, Mister Wainwright, and know that I will be calling on you in the near future," the old wizard instructed, and then leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes to take a nap. Aiden ushered Sayana out of the laboratory and closed the door, then started down the stairs in silence.

They opened the tower doors to a blast of cold wind and looked out at the freezing conditions with little enthusiasm before Aiden had to say something. "Listen, about Ronan," Aiden said, receiving a withering gaze from Sayana.

"I don't want to talk about that anymore," she replied curtly, then stormed out into the weather. Aiden hurried along to try and catch up, cursing himself as he went. This had turned into quite a fine mess, and apparently it was entirely his fault, although he couldn't pinpoint exactly where he had made the mistake.

Aiden had lost sight of her by the time he had stepped inside the Fair Maiden, but he surmised that Sayana had returned to her room for some privacy. It was possible Ronan awaited her there, but Aiden did his best to ignore that particular thought. Instead, he made his way across the crowded floor towards a table where Pacian dozed in a chair, half asleep.

"Nice bruise," Pacian remarked lazily, looking over at him. "You seem to get beaten up a lot, you know."

"This time it was a little different," Aiden muttered, gently touching the side of his face that had hit the floor earlier. "There was a dragon involved, so I think I came away from it better than could be expected."

"Dragon?" Pacian asked, sitting up straight. "Is there something I should know?"

"It's complicated," Aiden explained, "but no, there isn't a dragon about to eat the city. Just give me a few minutes of peace, would you? I've had a hell of a morning." Pacian was gracious enough to remain silent as Aiden rested his head on the back of the chair and stared up at the ceiling.

The distinctive sound of a man with a cane approaching heralded the arrival of Mister Kinsey, whose ruffled appearance indicated he had not slept the previous night. He stood across the common room looking right at Aiden and gestured for both he and Pacian join him in the kitchens.

When they stepped through the door, Aiden saw some of the kitchen hands being escorted outside by Kara, who gave him a quick nod before closing the door.

"All clear, boss," she declared, leaning against it with her arms crossed.

"My apologies for the impromptu meeting," Kinsey addressed them, leaning on his cane. "We should have a few minutes of privacy at least. I trust you are all recovering from your efforts? My people told me in detail the results of your work. Quite impressive, though lacking in subtlety."

"We go with what works," Aiden remarked with a shrug. "You look like you've had a busy night," he added, noticing the heavy bags under the man's eyes.

"I've been waiting for many years to get my hands on Holister," Kinsey growled, "and I wasn't going to sleep until we'd had some time to talk."

"Were you able to discover anything valuable?" Aiden asked, leaning forward eagerly.

"She eventually gave me some information on her past crimes, enough to close some murder cases the City Watch had on their books, but so far, she has failed to further enlighten us on the plans her associates have in store. That isn't the reason for my visit, however. One piece of information I gleaned from our discussion is the sum of money she was paid to perform this job."

"Yes, she told us that too," Aiden nodded, taking the time to detail the exact nature of the talk he'd had with the assassin last night, and Kinsey listened patiently to the whole story before speaking again.

"Based on this information, perhaps you would consider visiting the home of Thomas Bartlett." Kinsey said when Aiden had finished.

"No argument there," Aiden replied. "What about Senator Johnson, and this Lady Chelsea?"

"Kara will investigate Chelsea, though I've no real reason to suspect her at this time," Kinsey explained. "Johnson's a powerful politician, so investigating him is going to take time and resources I don't have. What we can do is cross Bartlett off my list before, but do so discreetly, if you please,"

"Are you suggesting that I break into a man's house illegally?" Pacian asked with exaggerated innocence.

"I am suggesting no such thing," Kinsey replied evenly. "We have never even spoken of such activities, and my meeting here with you was merely a courtesy to Her Highness."

"Gotcha," Pacian winked, chewing on some bread to hide his grin. Apparently, he felt differently about the situation.

"Make sure you aren't discovered, because I have it on good authority that he is quite a capable swordsman and wouldn't take kindly to finding you snooping around his home. Here is his address," Kinsey said, handing Aiden a scrap of paper.

"We'll get it done," Aiden promised.

"Good fortune to you both," Kinsey finished, nodding to Kara who opened the door and allowed the staff to get back to work. She slipped outside and disappeared from sight, while Kinsey went out the way he came at his own stately pace, with Aiden and Pacian heading back out after he'd left.

"I like him," Pacian said. "He's the king's go-to man for getting things done, even if they aren't, strictly speaking, legal."

"Yes, I can't imagine why you'd have anything in common with Kinsey," Aiden drawled. "You know, with the storm outside, this might be the best time to carry out this little investigation anyway," Aiden mused. "No one is going to see us breaking in. If we're quick, we can be back before sunset."

"Right, well, I'll be taking my cloak back now," Pacian reminded him. Aiden reluctantly conceded the warm garment back to its rightful owner and then headed upstairs to his room and quickly dressed in his leather armour. He looked around for his longcoat, but then recalled he'd given it to Valennia last night. When he returned downstairs and pushed through the crowd towards the door, she appeared next to them.

"Aiden, I require my daily payment in order to purchase new clothing," she declared, moving to obstruct their passage. Aiden fished around in his pouch, but came up empty.

"Come with us to the bank and I'll pay you. You can probably return my longcoat too."

"If you wish the return of your garment, then I shall hand it over now," she stated, moving to take off the coat.

"No, that's okay," Aiden blurted, catching a glimpse of what little lied beneath it. "You can keep it until you buy something else to cover yourself with."

"As you wish. Lead on, then," she relented, stepping aside so they could exit through the door.

It seemed the inclement weather was here to stay, at least for the foreseeable future. They moved along the freezing streets for a few minutes before arriving at the Royal Bank, a small fortress of a building that was blessedly warm inside. A quick talk with a dully attired woman behind a long, polished counter revealed that he had, at his disposal, the sum of fifty gold sovereigns, an amount that made his eyes bulge in disbelief.

The crown was a generous employer, though he did realise this was supposed to be for emergencies only. He withdrew a couple of gold coins and flipped them to Valennia.

"Get yourself some proper armour while you're at it," he told her, smiling slightly at the shocked look on her face as she caught the precious coins. A moment later she was taking off the longcoat, and this time nothing was going to stop her.

There were several gasps from bank patrons and staff at the scantily clad women in the hall, and more than one elderly man was slapped for his wandering eyes by his wife. Her body was covered in bruises and cuts from the battle, and it was for that reason alone that Aiden took a moment to examine her — in case she needed medical attention or something.

Leaving her to take care of her own shopping across the street, the two boys pressed on through the terrible conditions. He hunched down in his longcoat as they walked, wishing that he could be sitting next to the fire instead of out here freezing his behind off.

Aiden was snapped out of his idle reverie by Pacian, who seemed just as miserable pushing his way through the ever-deepening snow banks covering the streets.

"So do you want to talk about it?" Pacian asked bluntly.

"About what, exactly?"

"Sayana being in bed with Ronan, what do you think?" Pacian reminded him.

"Nope, can't think of a thing to say," Aiden replied mildly.

"That's a lie and we both know it," Pacian chuckled. "You've never been short on words, Aiden, so if it's bothering you, just speak your mind."

"Of course it bothers me," Aiden snapped, "do you think I'm made of stone? She has her reasons for ending our time together, but I guess she still felt something for me because when she noticed Criosa and all that flirting, she wanted some reassurance."

"That's more like it," Pacian said with a nod. "Look, she's new to the civilised life, and there are a lot of interesting people to meet along the way. Let her have some fun and frankly, you should do the same."

"Bed Ronan? He's not really my type," Aiden joked, though his heart wasn't in it.

"Funny. I mean there are plenty of girls here in the city to uh, 'bump into', and they're not royalty or anything," Pacian clarified. "A few of those serving girls at the inn are very nice, and I don't mean they're pleasant to talk to either, if you get my meaning."

"I'm sure Valennia does," Aiden pointed out, not willing to take relationship advice from Pacian, who groaned in response.

"That was an accident. I guess when I'm drunk, old habits kick in. I can't remember a bloody thing."

"Go easy on the beer next time," Aiden advised. "Imagine if Nel heard about it."

"She'd better not," Pacian muttered, his breath freezing in the chilly air as they passed through a gate to the affluent northern part of the city.

"Not that you're a couple or anything," Aiden mused. "How's that working out for you anyway?"

"Hey, she's going through some changes lately and I don't want to pressure her," Pacian protested.

"Are you trying to win her favour or that old argument you two have?" Aiden inquired archly. "The one where you try to convince her stabbing people is the best way to resolve issues, while she tries to make you into a proper gentleman."

"I think I can do both," Pacian replied after a moment's thought. "Once she comes around to my way of thinking, I'll seem like the perfect soulmate and then I'll make my move."

"So, did you head straight for Val, or did you try to kiss Nellise at some point during the other night when we were drunk?" Aiden pressed.

"How should I know?" Pacian muttered mournfully. "If she saw me snogging Val it sure would explain her attitude towards me since then. My real concern is that bloody knight. He should know better than to make a play for a woman young enough to be his granddaughter."

"Are you still hung up on that?" Aiden asked in disbelief. "I think their relationship is more spiritual than physical."

"It better be, or I'm gonna take that poncy sword of his and shove—"

"Okay I think this is the street," Aiden interrupted quickly, looking at the small piece of paper with Thomas Bartlett's address scrawled on it. Although in the wealthy quarter of the city, the buildings here weren't exactly mansions. A few brave souls hurried along through the streets going about their daily work where possible, but with the shroud of fog and snow reducing visibility down to less than twenty yards, Aiden guessed they shouldn't have any trouble with this task.

"Ok that's the place on the corner," Aiden whispered, nodding towards the small, two-storey house that was crowded up against all the other small abodes in this part of the city. There were a few people about, but they were more intent with getting out of the weather than watching for thieves.

"Watchman over there," Pacian added, subtly gesturing towards a man wearing the helmet of the City Watch, who seemed to be casually patrolling the street. Pacian pushed Aiden back towards the wall of a small house behind them, which offered a little shelter from the wind.

"Let's just see how long it takes him to walk his route," he advised. Pacian watched with his sharp eyes and made notes as to how often the guard passed by. There were, in fact, two guards that went along this street, on separate patrols that happened to cross over.

"Okay, we're not getting in the front door without being seen," Pacian whispered. Most of these old buildings have a back entrance into an alley. Let's go try that." Aiden agreed and followed Pacian down the street, then around the corner where they located the right alley and made their way down the narrow passage past refuse and discarded junk.

Aiden had been keeping count and pointed them to the correct door. Pacian took a look around and took off his gloves. For this job, he needed all the precision his hands could offer, and the gloves would just get in the way. "I don't see any smoke coming from the chimney and no lanterns are visible through the windows, so I think he's out for the time being."

"This reminds me of old times," Aiden reminded him as the adrenaline started to kick in.

"You remember all that now?" Pacian asked absently, fetching the tools of the trade from his pouch.

"Only the jobs we did after I fell in that cave."

"Maybe doing this more often would help jog your memory," Pacian shrugged, pausing for a few seconds longer before he attempted to pick the lock after nearly half a minute it finally made a satisfying click, allowing them entry to the small house.

"Are you getting sloppy in your advancing years?" Aiden remarked while glancing at their surroundings.

"That was the strangest lock I've ever seen," Pacian whispered back. "Took me a bit longer to figure out than I thought, and in the end, I just forced it. It'll need replacing." They fell silent as they looked around. The room before them was lit only by daylight filtering in through the small windows. The fire was out yet the interior was still a vast improvement on the bitter chill outside.

At this point, Aiden generally left things to Pacian, who had a nose for sniffing out secret compartments whether in a wall, inside a desk, or even under a loose floorboard. He could only guess at what they were looking for here, and it would take all of his skill to track down any incriminating information hidden inside the house.

As Pace went to work, Aiden took in the lavish carpeting, plush furniture and cabinets filled with exquisite glasses and plates. The place had a dry, musty aroma suggesting it wasn't often used. Several paintings of elderly statesmen adorned the walls, and upon closer inspection he could see they were family members from years past, patrons of the Bartlett family during the developing years of Fairloch. Pacian spent nearly ten minutes going over every nook and cranny downstairs, with disappointing results.

"It would have been helpful to have an idea what the hell I'm looking for," he hissed in frustration. "If it was coins, I could have ransacked the place and been gone five minutes ago." The sound of a key rattling in front door made Aiden's heart leap into his throat, and a quick glance showed Pacian stifling the urge to curse loudly. A nearby stairwell beckoned them and within moments they were creeping up to the top level of the house, just as the unexpected owner entered.

There were three doors leading off a small corridor at the top of the stairs, and all of them were open. Pacian crept forward on the plush carpet, trying to minimise the creaking of his leathers beneath his longcoat with Aiden following closely. It didn't sound like the newcomer was heading up the stairs just yet, giving them time to duck into the closest room to hide.

Judging by the desk and cabinets, it appeared to be a small office with a large quantity of papers scattered about. Thomas was either a disorganised worker, or he had left the place in a hurry. Pacian crouched down under the desk and Aiden moved across the room until he found an alcove to squeeze in, near a wardrobe door. Thinking it a good place to hide, he opened the wardrobe and stepped inside, noticing a chest at his feet.

He gestured to Pacian who came out from under the desk and cautiously made his way over to the wardrobe and Aiden kept a lookout while Pacian dealt with the chest's lock. An assortment of valuables was revealed within, including a sealed envelope. Pacian fetched it out and softly closed the chest, handing the envelope to Aiden.

Holding it towards the window for light, he noticed the seal was already broken and pulled out a sheet of paper covered with writing, inked in a familiar style.

My dear associate, I regret your recent loss. Your brother was a man of conviction in difficult times. It is, however, troubling that Commander Black was unable to secure the princess for us. I would have preferred to have her out of the way rather than eliminated, but desperate times call for desperate measures. I have contacted a former assassin, along with diverse associates of a professional nature to assist in this regard.

If the Senate prove to be as intractable as Criosa, then they must be eliminated as well. Your work thus far has been invaluable to the cause, and I would have you make all necessary arrangements to assist our allies. Please destroy this missive along with the others. Sincerely, Number One.

Aiden placed a hand against the wall to steady himself, for Thomas' failure to burn this note had turned this whole affair in their favour. The sound of footsteps coming up the stairway put a damper on his spirits, and set his mind racing as to how they would get out with this damning evidence.

Chapter Seventeen

Aiden's heart thundered in his ears as the footsteps approached. He briefly considered pulling out one of his few remaining scrolls to give him an edge in any confrontation, but quickly withdrew his hand, dismissing the sudden desire as a waste of a limited resource.

Pacian took up position on the side of the doorway, gesturing at his dagger and making a slashing motion across his throat. Aiden shook his head to indicate this would be a very bad thing.

Their visitor crested the stairs and Aiden quickly fell back against the wall next to Pacian. Moments later a balding, middle-aged man who seemed quite fit walked into the room, wearing an expensive longcoat over fine clothing and bearing a family resemblance that prompted Aiden to wonder if the entire Bartlett family were criminals.

As Thomas moved over to the desk, he noticed them and immediately bolted back out the door and down the stairs. Aiden was taken completely by surprise at this reaction but Pacian leapt after him like a cat chasing a mouse.

Aiden snapped out of his trance and rushed after them as Pacian took the man down in a flying tackle that sent both of them tumbling down the stairs with fists flying. Aiden hurried after them but there was nothing he could do to help, for the two of them were rolling around smashing into furniture and tables, knocking plates and other ornaments to the floor.

Pacian drew a dagger and slashed a wide cut on Thomas's face, just missing his left eye. Thomas responded by reaching up to a nearby table with one hand, grabbing a vase and bringing it down on Pacian's head. He reeled from the blow as the vase shattered, dropping his dagger and flailing against the floor. Thomas kicked him away and struggled to his feet, but Aiden drew his sword and rushed forward with the point levelled at the man's chest.

"Who the devil are you, and what are you doing in my house?" Thomas exclaimed, breathing hard after the short but vicious fight. His eyes didn't leave Aiden for a second, giving the impression of a dangerous, hunted individual.

"Never mind who we are," Aiden replied grimly. "We know you're involved with the people who attempted to kidnap the princess, and I want to know everything you do about who's behind this."

"What letter? I don't know what you're talking about," Thomas protested, wiping a line of red from his face. Aiden looked down at Pacian to make sure he was still alive and saw blood flowing from where the vase had struck him.

"Pace, are you okay?" he asked, but before his friend could answer Thomas took advantage of the momentary distraction and drew a rapier from its sheath under his longcoat, skewering the note in Aiden's hand with one deft movement and ripping it from his grasp. Aiden immediately gave him his full attention, holding his sword up defensively but silently cursing himself for underestimating this man.

"You are trying to frame me," Thomas growled after pulling the note off the sword and reading a little of it. "I know that handwriting, and I plan to send you back to your master in tiny pieces." Aiden's mind whirled at the possibility that the note was false, planted there to frame the man.

"Wait a moment," he protested as Thomas screwed up the note and threw it into the fireplace. "No!" Aiden cried, but was forced back as Thomas slashed viciously with his blade.

Aiden was hoping that Pacian would shake off the daze and help out, but couldn't wait for him to get back on his feet. Instead of trying to fight him, Aiden desperately tried another approach.

"I yield," he cried, lowering his blade. Thomas looked confused for a brief moment, checking to make sure Pacian wasn't trying to sneak up on him before sending Aiden's sword across the room with a flick of his wrist.

"I do not require your surrender, only your death," Thomas warned.

"We didn't plant that note there, but I have a feeling that whoever did wanted people like us to find it," Aiden explained hastily. "We're working for the Crown, not whomever this 'Number One' person is." Thomas levelled his gaze at Aiden for a long moment.

"I believe you, because he would not send a couple of untrained boys to frame me," Thomas finally stated, lowering his sword.

"Thank you," Aiden breathed as the tension left the room. "I need to check on my friend, is that alright?" Thomas nodded as Pacian got back on his feet, his hair matted with a surprising amount of blood.

"Head wounds bleed the most," Thomas called out. "You'll be fine. The same cannot be said for my carpets."

"How did you get involved in this, and why would they be trying to frame you?" Aiden asked, pulling out some bandages from his longcoat pocket and beginning to wrap them around Pacian's head.

"I don't know if you're familiar with my brother, Ronald Bartlett, but he is a renowned businessman who operates—"

"Yes, we met briefly, not long ago," Aiden interrupted, less than eager to bring up the subject of Bartlett's death.

"I see. He was involved with some important members of the Senate, having conducted business with them for many years," Thomas continued, checking outside the window. "Ron was always very busy, whether it was with the company or meetings with Senator Augustus Johnson, but he would never discuss the nature of their affiliation. I had the distinct impression it was somewhat illegal, so I didn't press the matter. This all changed when I learned of my brother's recent death in Lachburne."

"I heard about that, and I'm sorry for your loss," Aiden offered, keeping his voice measured so as not to reveal any diret involvement.

"Don't be — the man was a recalcitrant bigot," Thomas replied without emotion. "As part of the company's assets fell to my control, it wasn't long before Senator Johnson came to me and wanted to bring me on board with his associates, informing me it was a matter of national interest and that as a true patriot, it was a duty I could not refuse."

"I declined. He told me I would regret the decision, but that he respected my courage to tell him to his face. Johnson really does think a lot of himself, you know, he's quite an arrogant old toff." Aiden finished bandaging Pacian's wounds and helped him to his feet.

"So, Senator Johnson is this 'Number One' chap then?" Aiden asked.

"No, I don't think so, but he certainly believes himself equal to whoever is," Thomas attested. He peered through the window again as he spoke, warily watching those passing by. "Augustus would not be content with following orders for long, of that I am certain."

"Are you expecting someone?" Pacian asked, still smarting over his loss to the expert swordsman.

"I've had the distinct feeling that I have been followed since my last meeting with the good Senator," Thomas explained. "Running into the two of you upstairs took several years off my life, and has forced me to reconsider the level of safety..."

"Safety of what?" Aiden prompted when Thomas's voice trailed off. He was leaning against the wall next to one of the windows, and did not answer. Then the window suddenly shattered inwards and Thomas slumped to the ground, a crossbow bolt in his chest and an expression of regret on his face.

Aiden stepped forward to go to his aid but caught a glimpse of a man in a dark cloak just outside the window with a compact crossbow aimed towards him. He leaped to one side as another bolt went past, narrowly missing his neck and lodging into the wall behind them. Aiden crawled across the floor to Thomas, who was staring up at the ceiling with eyes devoid of life.

The wound in his chest seemed to be smeared with a foul-smelling black substance, and it didn't take a vast leap of logic to realise he had been shot with a poisoned arrow. Pacian hurried over to the wall next to the window and cautiously peeked around the edge of the frame.

"He's getting away," he hissed, pushing the window all the way open and beginning to clamber outside.

"What about him?" Aiden asked, pointing at the still form of Thomas Bartlett.

"There's nothing we can do for him now, except avenge his death," Pacian growled, hesitating no longer as he pushed through the window and landed on the other side. Cursing under his breath, Aiden joined in the pursuit.

This particular window opened onto an alleyway, and the two boys could see the assassin dashing away from them near the other end of the narrow passage. Pacian was already running, dodging past boxes and piles of garbage, with Aiden following as quickly as he could manage.

Their target had disappeared around a corner, which they both took at high speed and continued the chase. The black figure should have been easy to spot against the white ground, but the snow was still falling thickly and the assassin was reduced to a grey blur, taking yet another corner in the maze of alleys.

By the time they reached the point where they'd last seen their target, he was nowhere to be found. Pacian looked about frantically, and then kicked a box of rubbish in frustration. Aiden looked on the ground to see if he could follow the man's footsteps in the snow, but he couldn't make them out from all the other footsteps in the area.

Aiden was silent and outwardly calm, but inside he screamed in frustration at the loss, both of the assassin and a man who had the integrity to stand against the schemes taking place in the upper hierarchy of the Kingdom.

"We're done here, Pace," he told his friend, trying to keep the dejection from his voice, "let's get back with what we know." Pacian stood in the middle of the alleyway for a long moment before nodding his head in agreement.

"I'm going to make the bastard behind this bleed for what he's done," he vowed.

* * *

The two boys made their way through the back alleyways of Fairloch. Before they emerged onto the main streets, Pacian spent a few minutes cleaning the blood from his head wound with some of the freezing cold water on the ground. He was still a mess under his cloak, but hopefully the City Watch wouldn't notice.

Fortunately, the City Watchmen posted at the main gate between the Market and Senate Districts had their hands full arguing with a brash young woman with long dark hair who was protesting the confiscation of her property. Aiden suddenly realised it was Kinsey's agent Kara, who was creating a diversion to allow them to make their way back to the Fair Maiden without attracting the attention of the City Watch, and he was silently grateful.

The warmth of the inn was as inviting as ever when the two boys slumped through the door. The crowd at the inn had thinned out since they had departed, and it came as no surprise to Aiden that Mister Kinsey was seated at a table near the door, patiently awaiting their arrival.

"You seem to have a nose for finding trouble, Mister Savidge," Kinsey remarked as they gingerly eased into the available seats. "Perhaps one day we will be able to engage in discussion without your blood dripping on the floor."
"You have a strange way of greeting people," Pacian replied warily.

"Duly noted," Kinsey replied curtly. "Now, please explain to me why the two of you appear to have been in a life or death struggle on what was supposed to have been a simple investigation." Aiden glanced at Pace, who merely shrugged back at him. There was no avoiding the truth — it would only be a matter of time before Thomas Bartlett was found dead, so it was probably best to be straightforward about this delicate issue.

Aiden went on to explain everything Thomas had mentioned, including the contents of the note, Senator Johnson's direct involvement and that Thomas had no real affiliation with the conspirators.

"Show me this note," Kinsey instructed eagerly.

"Unfortunately, we ran into Thomas and there was a struggle, during which he managed to take the note from me and throw it into the fire, before we could explain our presence in his house. He claimed it was false, planted there to implicate him and destroy his reputation. He was then shot with a poisoned arrow, dying almost immediately," Aiden concluded grimly. "We gave chase, but lost the culprit in the back alleyways." Kinsey remained silent, appearing thoughtful for a long moment before responding.

"They have covered their tracks well, though it is unfortunate that Mister Bartlett himself disposed of the note, for now we have no evidence aside from your word. I will have one of my men investigate the body, as a poison that kills that quickly would be a rare and expensive thing and that in itself may help us narrow the search. Despite implicating Senator Johnson, your word alone is not enough to conduct a full investigation of such a high-ranking member of society."

"We covertly investigated one man based on the word of a known criminal," Aiden retorted. "Why wouldn't we look a little closer at this senator in the same manner?" Kinsey looked back and forth between the two of them for a moment and then slowly stood up, leaning heavily on his cane.

"I will speak with Sir Godfrey. If I can persuade him, together we will have a better chance of convincing the duke," he told them, though with a noticeable lack of conviction. "I suggest you get your rest, gentlemen, as if I am successful we will need to move quickly. I will send word via one of my associates as to the outcome of my request." Kinsey hobbled away through the crowd and Aiden finally relaxed.

"That went well," he remarked.

"I think I should get my head looked at," Pacian said, gingerly touching his scalp underneath the hood of his cloak.

"That's a good idea," Aiden answered casually. "You should also get your injury checked out too."

"You're hilarious, you know that?" Pacian muttered. Looking around, he spotted the distinctive white clerical robe of Nellise sitting at a table across the common room. Her hood was up, but it was impossible to completely obscure her striking looks so easily. Gesturing for Pacian to follow, Aiden walked across the room. She was talking with Sir William, and the two of them went quiet as the boys approached.

"I hope we're not interrupting anything," Aiden greeted them. "Pace could use some patching up, if you're okay with that." Doubt entered her golden eyes as she looked up at Aiden, but she nodded silently and gestured at the empty chairs.

"Gentlemen, please join us," Sir William said cordially. He stood from his chair and offered Aiden his hand, which he shook firmly.

"I wish to offer my congratulations on our stunning victory last night," he continued as they took their seats. "I regret that I fell for their bait and took off after the rest of those assassins, but I was well-pleased to finally see that you had taken down that reprehensible Holister. Stirring work indeed, sir! Not just as a service to the crown, but to avenge my own failure to catch that scoundrel many years ago. I consider myself in your debt, Aiden, for bringing her to justice, and finishing the only meaningful contribution I have made to the Kingdom in my long decades of service."

"Praise should go to Nellise, Sir William," Aiden corrected, looking at the young cleric as she retrieved a crystal from her pouch and began whispering soft prayers. Within moments, he felt an invigorating sensation sweep through the air, and Pacian's wounds began to heal over.

"Is that so?" Sir William asked, raising an eyebrow. "It was our lovely young priestess who told me of your triumph this morning and she neglected to mention her role in it."

"We were on the verge of defeat when she stepped into the room and challenged Holister personally," Aiden explained. "Certainly, Sayana and I helped, but it was Nellise who struck the final blow."

"It wasn't all that final, as it happens," Pacian remarked bitterly as his wounds were also mending. "She had the opportunity to finish her off properly, but went kind of soft at the end. That's the reason Holister is still alive right now, instead of being food for worms."

"What you call softness, I call strength," Sir William told Pacian firmly. "She has not abandoned her ethics as readily as you would like to believe."

"I'm getting pretty sick of your superior attitude, Willy," Pacian snapped. "This world is a nasty place, something you failed to learn in all your long years."

"Easy Pace," Aiden warned, seeing a potential for unpleasantness growing.

"Why were you passed over for higher titles I wonder?" Pacian pressed, ignoring Aiden. "Dozens of knights serve the king, moving up the through the ranks to become counts and earls, and yet here you sit as the lowest of the nobility, complaining about a life wasted. You want to know what I think? It was your vaunted ethics that got in the way, and those who would do whatever it took to fight bastards like Holister were promoted and celebrated as heroes, until the king eventually stopped calling on you altogether."

Sir William's expression was unreadable, but instead of the outburst of anger Aiden had been expecting he merely drew Solas Aingeal from its sheath and placed it on the table in front of him. Nearby patrons blanched at the sight of a drawn weapon in the common room of an inn and backed away. Pacian himself flinched visibly as he glared at the weapon, but he held his ground.

"I serve a higher power," the knight spoke quietly but firmly. "Long have I waited for the chance to aid King and Country, but lately I've come to see that I have always, first and foremost, been a servant of God. Despicable men are moving through the world seeking to twist the glory of our civilisation to their own ends. I would not sacrifice our ethics in order to thwart their plans, for that would make us no better than them. If you truly think your ways and means are right by God, then take up my blade and mete out whatever justice you see fit to those deserving of your wrath."

"Pace, back off... right now," Aiden warned. Pacian turned and casually walked away from the table without a second glance, ignoring the dangerous look Sir William levelled at him.

Chapter Eighteen

"I am losing patience dealing with that one," Sir William muttered, sheathing his sword once more.

"I'm not going to defend him this time," Aiden grumbled, "but I do apologise for interrupting your talk with his nonsense. I give him a wide latitude due to our long friendship and the fact he doesn't have much else in the way of family, but my patience with him is also wearing thin."

"What have you two been up to, Aiden?" Nellise asked curiously. "Those wounds weren't from last night."

"Pacian and I did some investigation earlier," Aiden confided, rubbing his temples. "Before that I had an interesting encounter at the University. It's been an eventful day, to say the least."

"By 'eventful' I must assume 'dangerous', judging by Pacian's injuries," she remarked.

"Tell me, Nellise," Sir William asked, "that issue Pacian hinted at concerning dangerous men. To what was he referring?" Nellise lowered her eyes and let her hair fall before her face. Aiden suspected she was in no mood to talk about the incident in Akora, but was surprised a few moments later when she quietly began to relate the story to the old knight. Her voice fell to a whisper in a few places but she didn't stop until she had finished explaining the tragic event.

When she was done, nobody at the table spoke for nearly a minute. Sir William seemed to be thoughtful, although his moustache quivered with barely controlled emotions held just beneath the surface.

"You have spoken to the clergy of this, yes?" he asked of her, receiving a timid nod in reply. "Did you find no solace within the halls of the Church?"

"I was counselled briefly, but my other transgressions took precedence," Nellise replied, her voice conveying a feeling of disappointment rather than anger.

"I know that it's been hard for you, having to work your way through your problems while dealing with everything else," Aiden offered, lightly touching her hand with his own to comfort her. "But we're always here to support you, should you need it."

"Thank you, Aiden," she answered quietly. "Though you dispute my claim of being an angel, your words and actions continue to prove otherwise."

"I sensed that something was amiss from the first day we met," Sir William said slowly. "I now understand the source of your pain madam, for you are doubtless finding it impossible to resolve your newfound desire to fight evil with the peace and tranquillity you have known through your contact with God."

"'All men are brothers, all women are sisters' the Codex says," Nellise stated, "but I have encountered men whom I would scarcely call human, let alone my own brother. It is far easier to strike them down than to try and help them see the lost divinity within themselves."

"They need not be separate ideals," Sir William stated, drawing curious looks from Aiden and Nellise. "Your hatred and fear of such men is what is causing the distance between you and God, for such feelings are antithetical to the divine light that flows through all things. But I will tell you something now that I suspect even the Church does not know — there is no evil. At least, not as we think of it."

"I would beg to differ on that point," Aiden replied dryly.

"Darkness is merely the absence of light Aiden, not a force in and of itself," Sir William proclaimed. "So it is that evil is merely the absence of good — those we fight may act out in terrible and destructive ways, but we should remember their actions and thoughts have closed them off from God, and while they may be alone and afraid, they are not truly monsters."

"Are you saying we should take pity upon them?" Aiden asked with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"No, merely consider them as misguided," Sir William continued, directing his remarks at Nellise, who watched the old knight intently. "They lash out at the world, attacking people with swords, or words, or other unspeakable acts to try and deal with their pain. But it is a lie that they have been told, or they have told themselves for nothing is truly separate from the divine."

"We should not fear them or become angry with them for their actions, for they are like angry children, striving for attention from a universe they believe has turned its back on them. Hold on to the purity of your spirit and hear the sadness and rage of their empty existence echo in your soul, and allow their hatred to pass through you unheeded. You will weather their intemperate nature and remain strong, bolstered by the knowledge that you walk in the light, even in places of utter darkness, for at no time are you ever separate from God."

Aiden was silently impressed, never having heard anything quite like it, even from the ancient books he used to read. Nellise was similarly thunderstruck by these sentiments, and both of them remained silent for a good long while after Sir William had finished.

"I will ponder your words, Sir Knight," Nellise spoke slowly, looking at him with a curious expression of admiration and longing. "There may be some merit in your perspective, though it may take some time to fully digest this startling revelation."

"You have all the time in the world, dear lady," Sir William replied with a smile. "My heart would leap to see you unburdened from your worries at last." The two of them continued to talk about lighter matters, and Aiden felt it was a good time to head over to the bar and order some food.

He sat alone as he ate a meal, allowing his mind to idle and simply enjoy the plate of roast chicken and potatoes in the relaxing atmosphere. The end of the bar where Aiden was enjoying his meal was dimly lit, but inside his pouch there seemed to be a blue glow. He stopped chewing his food and slowly opened the pouch, noting that the light seemed to be coming from a corner of the cube.

"There you are, I've been looking everywhere for you mate," Ronan remarked suddenly, clapping Aiden on the shoulder and causing him to almost choke on his food. He snapped the pouch shut again and turned to look at the sailor, hoping he hadn't noticed anything unusual.

"You scared me half to death, Ronan," Aiden admonished him, mopping gravy from around his mouth with a napkin.

"Sorry about that," the sailor apologised, "I tend to do that to people. Look, I just wanted to say that I'm sorry about that whole thing with Sayana, and if you want me to steer clear, I'll do so."

"No, it's okay," Aiden dismissed after a moment's thought. "I overreacted earlier, and really you're both free to do whatever you want. She and I talked about it a bit, and in the end we both agreed that she should storm away in a huff and stop speaking to me."

"Yeah I'm sure that was mutual," Ronan remarked laconically. "But if you're fine with it, so am I." Aiden was distracted by the familiar dark-haired form of Kinsey's associate Kara approaching from across the room, looking right at him.

"Oh, and before I forget, I should mention that I went looking around for Perry and his crew, but they've moved base again," Ronan continued, a strange tightness in his voice. "Something tells me that place we met him last time wasn't even a proper headquarters. It was probably just set up for our meeting. Long story short — I have no idea where he's disappeared to now."

"Does that bother you?" Aiden asked.

"No, why would it?" Ronan answered, a little too quickly. A long moment of silence ensued during which he fidgeted with his glass, before finally telling the truth. "He played me, Aiden, right from the start. The contact led me to their 'base' was put there to lure me in. I left on good terms, and there's an unwritten rule that you respect former colleagues 'cause you never know if they might come back and work for you again. But not now — he's sold out, and probably laughing at me right now." The glass in his hand suddenly shattered, causing a minor stir as people turned to see what the noise was.

"You're usually pretty hard to read Ronan, but something tells me this is really bothering you," Aiden drawled.

"It's more than just me. Everyone who works for him is now in peril. Perry's consorted with a bunch of mad bloody killers and they're half as likely to murder them all just to keep 'em silent," Ronan spoke quietly, but through gritted teeth. "There are some good people in that guild and they're all in as much danger as we are now, so I've got to find them before the assassins do."

"So, you're not quite through with the guild after all, I guess," Aiden deduced.

"Just this last job, and then I can sleep at night," Ronan assured him.

"Yeah that's great," Aiden replied, suddenly noticing Kara trying to catch his attention from a nearby bar stool. "We'll have to deal with Perry later, as I suspect things are about to come to a head on this whole assassin issue. Get the others ready to move, I'll be back shortly. There's someone I have to speak with."

"Not a problem, I'm raring to go," Ronan answered. Pushing his plate aside, Aiden left a few coins for the waitress and walked over to the elusive young woman.

"Our mutual friend says that Sir Godfrey wishes to speak with you personally," Kara confided in hushed tones. "They're expecting you in the castle."

"Right now? Okay, I'll head straight over there," Aiden replied. "Oh, and thanks for the little display at the gate to the Senate District."

"I made a right arse of myself," she conceded with a half-grin, "but we all have to make sacrifices. Kinsey wanted me to keep an eye on you in case you got into trouble, but I never expected you to try and walk through a guard post right after a fight. Not all the City Watch have been bribed, but I reckon enough of them have that you'd have gotten into pretty serious trouble if they'd taken you in for questioning."

"I appreciate it," Aiden responded.

"Now get going, Sir Godfrey is a busy man," the mysterious spy prompted, and Aiden didn't hesitate any longer, making his way out the door and heading towards the castle at a brisk pace.

Upon reaching the castle he was forced to wait in the cold weather however, as a royal carriage thundered across the bridge accompanied by half a dozen mounted guards in heavy armour. Aiden caught a glimpse of someone with blond hair and fair features sitting in the back of the carriage, but it might have been his imagination.

Aiden made his way past the castle guards, who waved him through at a glance. His arrival had apparently been expected, and within a minute he was within the sheltered walls of the keep. They kept out the worst elements of the weather, but it was still very cold inside.

"Mister Wainwright, it is a pleasure to see you again," announced Castellan Hodges, striding forward to offer his hand in greeting.

"Good afternoon," Aiden replied, shaking his hand. "I believe Sir Godfrey requested my presence?"

"Indeed he has sir, and I shall take you to him. I must say, we have heard many tales of your exploits over the past few days and I am astonished with your accomplishments. Tracking down that scoundrel Holister was a masterstroke, both for the Crown and for your own reputation."

"My reputation?" Aiden asked as the castellan ushered him towards a pair of doors.

"There were many here in the royal court who doubted your capabilities, and those of your comrades," he continued. "I must confess, I was one of them, but the princess was most vocal as to your talents, and so we gave you the benefit of the doubt. Please understand your lack of training or experience in this area was most troubling for us."

"To be fair," Aiden pointed out, "one of our number has some old contacts in the criminal world, and it was he who led us on the trail that brought us results."

"Well, in any case, your people have certainly risen to the occasion, sir," the castellan offered.

"Don't celebrate just yet," Aiden cautioned. "We still haven't found out who the people behind all of this are, and some of Holister's associates got away."

"I'm sure Sir Godfrey's assistance will help expedite matters."

"Oh, speaking of Criosa, how has she been of late?" Aiden inquired as they stood before the large oaken doors.

"Sullen, and frankly a little frightened by the prospect of being hunted like this, though she does a masterful job of hiding her feelings," Castellan Hodges explained fondly. "Criosa was always quite spirited, and doesn't take well to being cooped up indoors all the time, which I think was behind her decision to speak before the Senate this afternoon. Any excuse to get out of the house, wot?"

"Wait, was she in that carriage I passed on the way in?" Aiden asked, suddenly concerned.

"Yes, but rest assured, she is well protected," the castellan said.

"Why is she speaking to the Senate?"

"The current bill the chamber is discussing involves the war, and our place within it," he confided delicately. "There is a movement to cut His Majesty off from the royal treasury due to the lack of consultation with the government prior to declaring war. I suspect that businessmen with interests in the Tulsone market are outraged at losing money from trade and pushed for the discussion to happen, but surprisingly it seems to have caught on with most of the other Senators. Whether or not it passes is now down to a handful of others, so Criosa went to speak before them to beg for the bill to be discarded, so as not to abandon her father in the middle of enemy territory."

"I had no idea there was such opposition," Aiden breathed, remembering what he had learned about the real reasons for the war, and realising that secrecy was undermining support from the king's allies at home.

"There has been growing dissent from the nobility in the capital ever since hostilities began," the castellan confided, "and at times it has bordered on treason. But it is not my place to speak of such things — I am merely a servant of Aielund. Now, Sir Godfrey is awaiting your presence."

The conversation ended abruptly as he stepped into the royal court, and Aiden had no choice but to put aside his myriad questions and follow Castellan Hodges in. Sir Godfrey was resplendent in his plate armour as he talked quietly to the familiar figure of Mister Kinsey, who stood leaning on his cane in the centre of the plush carpet that led up to the empty throne.

"Ah, the erstwhile Aiden Wainwright returns," Sir Godfrey greeted him as Kinsey watched casually. "Sterling work you and your companions have achieved thus far, sir, though I do find the information you have uncovered to be unsettling to say the least. There are matters that require my time elsewhere, so I must needs be brief, but I wished to impress upon you the gravity of your request."

"Do you have a problem with investigating the Senator?" Aiden asked.

"In the manner in which this is going to take place, yes," the knight replied stiffly. "This is highly irregular, though Kinsey has been most persuasive as to the reasons for the covert nature of this investigation. To put it bluntly, the capture of Holister has shown me that you are a capable young man and have our best interests at heart so I am permitting this to proceed, though we will all be at considerable risk should you decide to go ahead."

"If you believe Johnson is a threat, there should be no question that this action is necessary," Aiden remarked.

"Should you be unable to find anything incriminating on his property, upon his return from the Senate, Augustus may learn of your intrusion and will be outraged. You may face prosecution," the knight added grimly, "and the duke will have no choice but to expel me from the Order of Aielund for allowing this transgression to happen."

"Prosecution?" Aiden asked faintly, not thrilled with the sound of that word.

"The senator is a powerful man, Aiden," Kinsey explained. "If you fail to find evidence against him, he will destroy you, and your companions will face a similar fate."

"So I implore you to think carefully before moving ahead with this," Sir Godfrey pressed. "Once you enter that house, there is no turning back." Aiden was silent as he contemplated everything he had learned, and the price for being wrong. His measure of Thomas's character came into question, but his death only served to underscore the value of the information.

"I'm not wrong," Aiden stated. "Johnson is part of it, and that house has the incriminating evidence. If he turns out to be innocent, we'll deal with that when it happens. But it won't, because I'm not wrong."

"You are a man of conviction. Rare in one so young," Sir Godfrey observed, locking eyes with Aiden for a long moment. "One last question — Mister Kinsey informed me that the note you found in Thomas Bartlett's property mentioned something about assaulting the Senate. Princess Criosa has just left to address them personally, and I would ask if these people truly intend to follow through on that."

"The note was fake, Sir Godfrey," Aiden assured him. "Its purpose was to implicate Thomas, so I think it is safe to assume that everything in it was a fabrication."

"I sent along four royal guardsmen with the carriage as a precautionary measure," the castellan said. "Unless these blaggards have more than a dozen men at their disposal, they will find themselves hard-pressed if they choose to attack."

"Very well," Sir Godfrey nodded, satisfied with the report. "Good fortune to you, Aiden, and may you find what you are looking for, for all our sakes."

"I will see you in an hour or two," Aiden told them firmly, "with the evidence you need to end this conspiracy once and for all."

Chapter Nineteen

When Aiden returned to the Fair Maiden, he saw Ronan had gathered the others together at a pair of tables on the far wall. Sensing time was of the essence, he caught their attention and gestured for them to follow him outside. The entire group was fully equipped, and Aiden was pleased to see Maggie's injured arm appeared to be fully healed.

"We're finishing this up in the next few hours," Aiden told her. "Then we'll head south and help you with your problem, as promised."

"I look forward to getting back out into nature," Maggie answered.

Towering over the little raelani, Valennia wore a fine steel breastplate under her heavy cloak, the front of which appeared to have been hammered outwards to better accommodate her physique. On her head was an imposing helm with a flat visor that could slide down to cover her face during a fight. Her great axe had been sharpened and its edge gleamed in the cold light of day. People turned to stare at the heavily armed woman standing proudly in their midst.

"Did the city watch give you any trouble, Val?" Aiden asked.

"The corrupt warriors of this city stood at a distance and watched me pass, but did not challenge me directly," she replied confidently. "If they took issue with my imposing visage, they chose not to act, like the cowards they are."

"I have no idea if we're going to be allowed into the Senate District, looking like this," Aiden muttered to himself as he looked over his companions, many of whom had discarded subtlety in favour of heavier equipment, no doubt as a result of their last encounter.

"Okay we're heading north, but let's try and be discreet about it," Aiden instructed, leading them around the nearest corner and up a narrow alleyway beside the inn. "I still have the authority of the duke, but I don't particularly want anyone to know where we are moving, or why."

"What exactly are we doing?" Maggie asked, walking double-time to keep up with the rest of them.

"We're paying a visit to our good friend, Senator Johnson," Aiden replied with a wink. "He's tied up at the Senate in an important meeting, and we will be taking advantage of the situation to make ourselves at home, if you know what I mean."

"We are taking his house for ourselves?" Valennia asked obtusely. "I prefer to vanquish our enemies before taking their land, but if this is your custom..."

"Yes, it is," Aiden answered with a straight face. "Ronan, is there any way past the guard post on the gate without being seen? And I want an answer other than 'the sewers'."

"Okay then, how about 'yon aqueducts'?" the sailor quipped, followed by groans from everyone nearby. "Hey, if you want to go where nobody will follow, you can't beat a river of shit."

"Fine, if there's no other way..."

"Nope," Ronan shrugged. Aiden reluctantly let him take the lead, and within minutes they were climbing through a sewer grate, down a ladder into the turgid darkness. Once he had climbed to the bottom, Aiden and Sayana summoned their lights to show the way.

"Are you sure you know which house to head for?" Aiden asked as they waited for the last of their group to climb down. The smell was as bad as ever, although he tried his best to ignore it.

"Yeah, it's the First King's estate," he answered, as if it should be obvious.

"I heard it's a heritage building, but does that mean it was Alaric the First's house?" Aiden inquired, always interested in history.

"I'll field this one," Sir William offered, leaving Ronan free to lead them through the dark tunnels. "Fairloch was always planned to be the capital of the Kingdom, but construction was going to take a considerable amount of time, so the King had a more modestly sized estate built, to act as his court until such time as the castle was finished. It took twelve years, in case you were wondering."

"I was, thanks," Aiden responded. "What happened to it after the King eventually moved out?"

"He handed it over to the most loyal of his Lords, the Earl of Kingswood," Sir William continued, seeming to take great pleasure in educating them about the city's early days. "Since then, it has always remained with the same family, as the sons and daughters of that Earl have always felt it was their duty to continue serving the Kingdom."

"Was it the Johnson family?" Nellise asked, walking alongside her new best friend.

"It was, and still is," the knight replied soberly. "If that trust has been abused by the senator, his entire family will be disgraced. It would certainly play into the hands of the Lords, who want nothing better than to see this whole Senate experiment cast aside and the House of Lords reinstated as the sole governmental body within the realm."

"I don't get it," Pacian remarked bluntly, matched by Sayana's blank expression.

"Well, it's all quite involved actually, with politics being what it is and all, so perhaps I'll tell you about it another time," Sir William muttered, sensing it wasn't a good time for a history lesson.

He was interrupted by a signal from Ronan, indicating that they should keep quiet. Aiden immediately tensed, unsure what the problem was, but then saw the sailor move over to a ladder leading to the surface. A pile of snow had built up at the foot of the ladder, having fallen through the grate above.

Ronan climbed the ladder as quietly as he could, and paused to listen through the grating. Aiden was doubtful he could hear anything at all, given the sound of the rushing waters at their feet, but nevertheless, the sailor seemed satisfied with whatever he'd heard and carefully opened the grate.

Aiden gestured for Pacian to go next. The two of them disappeared for a few moments before Pacian waved the rest of them up. By the time they'd all exited the sewer, the sun was starting to set in the west and young people were moving through the streets, lighting lanterns for the evening.

They were in a narrow alleyway between two very large buildings, though it was far tidier than the lane they'd entered into the sewers from — a strong indication they were in the wealthier part of the city. The stars peeked out between breaks in the clouds above, and the hint of moonlight provided barely enough to see by. The buildings were taller and cleaner, made of white stone and the paving on the roads seemed to be smoother than other areas of the city.

"We're about ten minutes from the estate," Ronan breathed softly, mindful of his voice carrying in the cold air. "It's not far from the Senate building, though, so there are going to be more guards in that area. This is about as close as I can get us via the sewers, so if we run into any guards, you'll have to deal with them."

"I'll hang back and make a diversion if we need it," Pacian advised. "Nel, if you can scream really loud, that'd be a huge help."

"I suppose I can muster a convincing scream if need be," she answered hesitantly.

"Whatever works," Maggie concurred. Ronan then proceeded to lead them through a winding series of alleyways, avoiding the main streets as much as possible.

Despite their earlier precautions, the number of City Watchmen in the area seemed to be minimal, and Ronan had no trouble guiding them around the few he spotted. True to his word, within a few minutes the sailor brought them to a large, spacious-looking building amongst elaborate gardens. He took them on a slow saunter around the perimeter of the property, which was surrounded by a formidable looking barred fence on all sides.

"That's it," Ronan stated simply as they peered around the corner of the alleyway they stood in after finishing their quick appraisal. "Not a guard in sight — maybe the security on this place really is as good as I've heard and they don't bother watching it?"

"Either that, or they've been pulled away to another location for some reason," Aiden mused, recalling the young spy who had provided a distraction for them earlier that day. "Maybe our friend Kinsey is giving us a hand by keeping the Watch busy. Either way, we're clear to move in. Just be ready to deal with any servants working inside."

"How?" Pacian asked.

"We're here on official business," Maggie suggested. "You've still got the letter of authority from the duke, so use it."

Without any further hesitation, Aiden walked out of the alley and across the street, heading straight for the front gate. It was locked, but there was a small silver bell hanging next to it for visitors to alert the staff. Aiden rang it and waited patiently for a response. Presently, the front door opened, revealing a middle-aged man. He was dressed as a butler in expensive, dark attire, and his receding hairline ended in thick eyebrows that were drawn together above narrowed eyes.

"Can I help you?" he called across the six or seven yards between the gate and the front door.

"My associates and I have come on behalf of the duke to search the premises," Aiden called. The butler seemed alarmed by this and quickly made his way to the gate.

"I need proof of this authority," he demanded. Aiden held up the note with the ducal seal upon it, and after reading it through, the man's face fell.

"I see. Very well, you may enter, though I will ask you to at least wipe your feet before stepping inside."

"Thank you," Aiden answered as the gate was unlocked. Falling into step behind the butler, he led his companions in single file through the snow-covered gardens. They were picturesque, but the beauty was mostly lost on the tense group of people passing through. Upon closer inspection, the house itself was very old, and was built in a squared-off style with small windows, archaic compared to more modern buildings like the Fair Maiden Inn. The front door was a large, over-designed affair with gold fluting around the outer edge.

Inside was a small foyer, furnished with a hat stand, shoe rack, and a dresser for longcoats and other apparel, all of which were empty. The air was warm and dry.

"So what's all this about? The butler asked, clearly nervous about letting them inside. "My master will be most upset with this intrusion into his privacy.

"Please relax," Maggie assured him. "We'll try to be quick and as little bother as possible, so if you and your staff would co-operate, we can be done and you can go back to your duties without further disruption."

"This is highly irregular," the butler complained, looking down at the diminutive woman. "I see no representatives of the City Watch here and your letter, while authentic, it mentions nothing specific as to a search of these premises." While he spoke, Aiden gestured at the others to start searching the house.

"We can't talk about the nature of this search," Aiden said to the butler, "but if you have an issue with our methods, by all means take it up with His Grace at your convenience."

"Well... the duke's signature is legitimate, and it is quite clear about providing you with what assistance I can," the butler hedged as Aiden's companions went about searching the place. "Very well, go ahead, but my employer will have things to say about this when he returns."

"Please gather your people into the kitchens, if you could," Maggie continued, exerting some authority to get them to cooperate. The butler reluctantly did as he was told, calling the staff away from their current tasks and into the kitchen. There were four servants in addition to the butler, and none of them struck Aiden as being much of a threat, so he started to look around the house, leaving Val and Sir William to keep guard.

The huge dining hall was magnificently appointed, with large, expensive tapestries hanging from the walls and a fireplace on the other side of the room. Although roughly two centuries old, the house appeared to be in remarkably good condition with little sign of aging. Most striking of all however, was the oversized chandelier hanging over the twenty-foot long table, with two dozen candles flickering through sculpted glass providing a mesmerizing effect.

Ronan was moving along the back wall, searching without success behind the paintings for hidden compartments while Pacian had gone up the nearby staircase to check the top floor. Sayana found a narrow stairwell leading down to a basement and disappeared through a small service doorway. After a few minutes of this, Nellise moved closer to Aiden, making sure nobody else was listening before she spoke.

"Do you have any idea what we should be searching for?" she asked quietly, prompting Aiden to ponder the sort of evidence they'd be likely to find. It was unlikely the senator would keep any written evidence lying around, unless he was lacking in both intelligence and good sense.

"Journals, notes, letters... something in the rubbish that he's thrown out and not destroyed properly... perhaps even signs that he has been meeting with the assassins," Aiden told her at a normal volume so Ronan could hear him.

"Nothing like that out here," the sailor called as he started looking in vases and under furniture. "Course, it was always a long shot that he'd keep damning evidence out in his dining room."

"Hopefully Pace is having better luck," Aiden remarked. "Keep an eye on the servants," he added, "I'm going to see how he's doing upstairs."

Aiden crossed the room and headed up the stairs two at a time, discovering a long hallway at the top with five doors leading off at regular intervals. The sound of someone shoving furniture around emanated from the first door on the left, and peering inside, Aiden saw Pacian had carefully gone through the room from top to bottom. From the nature of the material he guessed this used to be a study, or office, complete with an enormous mahogany desk and cabinets filled with papers.

"We could be here for hours — look at all these papers," Pacian griped as soon as he noticed Aiden enter the room.

"Just stick to searching for vaults or secret compartments," Aiden advised, daunted by the sight before him. "If the information we need is in those cabinets, it's going to take days to find it, but I'm betting Johnson keeps his damning evidence someplace safe. Check out the other rooms, I'm going to see what's happening downstairs," Aiden said, dejected.

He hurried down to the ground floor without waiting for a response from his friend, and glanced at the butler and his staff being watched carefully by an increasingly impatient Valennia. There was something odd about the expression on the butler's face that irritated Aiden, a kind of haughtiness that alluded to a sense of satisfaction concerning their failure to uncover evidence against the senator.

"Tell me you found something," Aiden asked of Ronan, who was emerging from the kitchens with patches of flour on his dark longcoat and gloves. He shook his head slightly in reply.

Aiden had genuinely thought they would uncover the Senator's links to the assassins and the greater conspiracy against the Crown somewhere in the house, but now the prospect of ruining Sir Godfrey's carrer, not to mention other possible consequences for Aiden and his companions was a very real possibility.

"If you are quite finished tearing up my master's home," the butler remarked, "I will direct my staff to begin cleaning so it will be tidy for when he returns and destroys what remains of your lives."

"Speak again and I will remove your tongue," Valennia said in a voice filled with promise. Aiden noticed Maggie over near the basement trying to catch his attention during the tense moment, so he walked over to speak with her.

"Aiden, Sy thinks she's found something downstairs," she said, trying to keep her voice low.

"Some good news I hope?" he asked quietly.

"I'm not sure, but it seems a little strange to me," the raelani druid replied, her tiny brow furrowed in thought.

"I saw that look!" Valennia suddenly shouted, causing everyone in the room to stare at her in astonishment. She was pointing an accusing finger at the butler, who shied back in terror from her fury. "You know something, servant. Speak!"

"I have no idea what you are talking about!" he cried.

"Val, what the hell are you doing?" Aiden exclaimed.

"When Margaret spoke of a discovery downstairs, this one flinched. He fears what you will find down below." Aiden initially hesitated to take her word for it, but when he saw the butler was clearly uncomfortable, he knew Valennia was on to something.

"Keep an eye on them while I go and check it out," Aiden advised. "Ronan, come with us." The sailor followed him and Maggie down the narrow stairs, ducking their heads to avoid the low ceiling along the way.

Maggie led them along a short passageway and through an old wooden door into a sprawling chamber. Away from the warmth of the fires upstairs, the basement was freezing with icicles forming on the ceiling. Aiden shivered in the bitterly cold air as they continued along, walking between shelves filled with casks of wine and blocks of cheese hanging from the ceiling until they finally found Sayana in an open area at the end of the room.

She was inspecting the walls, moving her palms slowly over the ancient stone blocks. On the floor around her were a dozen sleeping pallets and a pile of blankets in the nearby corner. The implications were obvious.

"Do you think the assassins or their associates stayed here?" Aiden asked, suspecting the truth.

"There's no direct evidence of that," Maggie explained, looking around with her hands on her hips. "But Sy found a few faint tracks on the dust and said they were similar to the ones she saw when we took down Holister."

"I think there could be a hidden door," Sayana said to them. "There are no signs of those footprints near the basement door, and it is unlikely they could have entered or left the house through the front door without someone noticing."

"I think whoever was here, left only recently," Maggie added. "Call it a hunch."

"I'll take what I can get at this point," Aiden breathed. "You, Val, and Sy have done some great work here." Sayana suddenly stopped, and began carefully following a crack in the wall with one delicate finger until she had outlined what appeared to be a door, cunningly hidden in the stone.

"My turn," Ronan suggested, moving in to carefully examine the discovery. Aiden's feeling of relief quickly turned into one of caution, for if the assassins had been here only recently, then something was afoot.

"Should we send word to the duke about this?" Sayana asked as she watched Ronan figure out how to open the door.

"There's not enough here to get the senator into any kind of trouble," Maggie said, shaking her head. "We'd need solid evidence to have even a chance of putting him away, and a few beds hidden in the basement just won't cut it."

"Maggie, bring the others down here if you could," Aiden asked of her. She hurried up the hall to the stairs, leaving him with Sayana and Ronan for a few moments.

"This is going to be awkward, isn't it?" Ronan observed, still tracing out the edge of the door. Sayana crossed her arms and looked cooly at Aiden, as if daring him to say what was on his mind.

"Look, I just want to know if we can work together without a problem," Aiden stated plainly. "The last thing we need are distractions, considering the type of people we're dealing with."

"I'm fine," Ronan shrugged.

"I'm so glad to hear that," Aiden drawled.

"It sounds like you're the one with the problem," Sayana remarked.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry," he apologized. "I'm not the best at dealing with women."

"I am," Ronan smirked.

"Not really," Sayana said, her voice barely more than a whisper.

"Wait, what?" Ronan blanched as the sound of footsteps returning down the corridor interrupted their delightful conversation.

"You didn't have to be so intimidating toward those people," Sir William warned Valennia as the rest of their companions approached. Ronan and Sayana went silent, and Aiden felt the need to smack himself on the forehead for making this worse instead of better.

"They work for the man you consider to be a traitor, and you would have me coddle them?" the Akoran woman shot back.

"I suppose we should be thankful you didn't kill one as an example to the others," Pacian remarked dryly.

"Do you think that would have worked?" she wondered, sounding disturbingly genuine.

"Rest assured, I made sure they are simply locked in one of the rooms upstairs," Sir William said.

"Enough," Aiden barked as they arrived at the sleeping area, sensing an ominous trend in the diverse group. "Ronan, can you get that door open?"

"Yeah, sure," the sailor muttered, fidgeting with a piece of the stone wall until it slid open to the rumble of stone against stone. Beyond the door was a narrow stone tunnel, and the sounds of water rushing became distinct and clear.

"A secret passage," Sir William remarked. "I wonder if it was part of the original construction."

"I doubt it," Ronan murmured. "The sewers weren't built as part of the original city, and I'm afraid that's where this door leads to, if my nose isn't mistaken." A quick whiff told Aiden that this was indeed the case, and he recoiled slightly at the stench.

"Was there any sign the door was opened recently?" Maggie asked.

"Hard to say," Sayana replied with a shrug.

"We follow it and find out more," Pacian suggested, moving ahead to be the first one down the tunnel. Valennia followed, and one by one they filed through. Aiden re-summoned his arcane light, placing it on his sword and holding it like a torch to illuminate the passage. It was dank and mouldy, and more than a little cloying as most of them had to stoop to avoid scraping their heads along the low ceiling.

The sound of rushing water increased in volume until eventually the tunnel ended abruptly and they emerged onto the walkway astride the turgid flow of the aqueducts. They stood at a junction, with the vast network of the sewers leading off in three directions.

"The scrapes on the floor show this door was opened within the last hour," Valennia reported, crouching down to look closer at the filth-encrusted stone. "There are obvious tracks here, but it seems whoever passed this way tired to cover them. Our prey knows they are being followed, though they did not count upon a tracker of my talent pursuing them."

"Where do the tracks lead?" Aiden asked, daring to hope they might be able to pick up the trail. If they could find these assassins and capture or kill them, it would vindicate their quasi-legal search of the Senator's home. Valennia carefully examined the stone further, taking a few moments to follow the markings before answering.

"Many passed this way," she explained absently. "They are wearing armour... and they all move in that direction," she finally answered, pointing across a small walkway that led to the other side of the tunnel. She moved ahead, being careful to check the ground every few yards to ensure they were on the right path.

Aiden's sense of direction underground was terrible and he had no idea of where they were heading, but after ten minutes the trail suddenly veered into a dry, narrow passageway off from the main system, ending in a solid stone wall.

"The tracks are indistinct," Valennia stated, "but appear to end here."

"More secrets," Ronan muttered, moving forward to closely inspect the wall.

"Does anyone have a clue where we are right now?" Pacian asked.

"We were moving west," Sayana replied. "I do not know where in the city that puts us, though."

"Moving west takes us very close to the Senate building," Sir William postulated. Everyone was silent for a moment as that information sunk in, and Aiden almost gasped as he suddenly understood the magnitude of what was going to happen tonight.

"The note we found at Thomas Bartlett's place," he breathed, having the full attention of everyone present. "It was trying to frame him for plotting to do something terrible to the Senate. I thought it was just a fabrication, but if those black robed cultists are heading there, then they were actually planning to kill key members of the Senate and place the blame for the murders on Thomas."

"Except they killed him after we uncovered the note," Pacian pointed out. "We almost stopped their plans right then and there, but they're pushing ahead with anyway."

"And the princess is speaking at the Senate tonight," Aiden continued. "They'll either grab her or kill her along with the others." He moved to assist Ronan, who was already working on it as fast as he could, with Pacian rushing over to help out as well.

"What could they hope to achieve by assassinating members of the government?" Nellise asked nobody in particular.

"This 'Number One' individual clearly seeks to seize the throne, and he or she is taking steps to eliminate the king's strongest supporters," Sir William replied tersely. "The audacity of this plan beggars belief."

"Found it," Pacian cried in triumph, pressing in a small piece of stonework that caused a part of the wall to slide open. A small passage beckoned, and at the edge of their light, a stairwell leading up could be seen.

"This was used recently," Sayana said, checking the floor for signs of passage. "We are closing in." Ronan slipped past her and moved down the hallway, taking the stairs two at a time and disappearing around the corner. The rest of the group followed quickly, with a pressing sense that time was growing short.

When he reached the top of the stairs, Aiden found Ronan standing before another blank wall, but one which stood out starkly from the ancient, dirt-covered stones they had been passing the entire journey with its clean, white brickwork. The wall had a latch on it, which Ronan turned as the rest of them caught up, opening into a dimly lit room.

Holding his glowing sword aloft, Aiden could see a room lined with shelves of books and a desk covered in loose papers. Tiles lined the floor underfoot and a door across the room was slightly ajar, through which the sounds of whispered conversations from nearby could be heard echoing. Ronan and Pacian crept forward cautiously, wary of some sort of trap but found nothing awaiting them in the room.

"Is this the Senate?" Aiden whispered as the rest of them made their way into the room, weapons drawn.

"The tiles and stonework do bear a resemblance to the Senate building, "Sir William mused, "although I am not familiar with some of the more obscure antechambers and storage rooms in the building itself."

"Come over here and take a look," Pacian prompted the knight.

"Yes, that is the entry hall for the Senate," Sir William confirmed after peering through the gap. "Nothing seems amiss, from what I can see."

"The trail of mud from below ends here," Valennia declared. "If they travelled further into this structure, it will be impossible to tell."

"We should get to the Senate itself and warn them," Sir William advised.

"And stay there to guard them as well," Aiden said, nodding. "Can you get us there?"

"Outside this door we turn right and take the stairs," the knight detailed. "The chambers are on the next floor, not far from the staircase."

"It might lend us a little more credibility if you take the lead," Aiden suggested. "Take this note of commission from the duke. If any guards try to stop you, his authority might be enough to get us through." Sir William took the note, and then smoothed his moustache and tidied up his appearance.

"It doesn't matter how pretty you look," Pacian remarked, "you're not going to get rid of that smell."

"More's the pity, I suppose," Sir William muttered, setting aside his vanity and stepping out into the hallway beyond. There were gasps from the bureaucrats going about their tasks as Aiden and his companions emerged from the storage room and strode casually along the expensive carpet, which would most likely have to be thrown out after being subjected to the unpleasant substances being ground into it with each step.

"You shouldn't be in here," a middle-aged woman with tightly bound hair remarked, scandalized by their appearance. "How did you get in?"

"It's special government business, madam," Maggie bluffed. "Can you tell me if you've seen any suspicious-looking individuals moving through here in the last hour?"

"Yes, and I'm looking right at them," she huffed. "Where on earth have you been walking, you smell terrible."

"Never mind about that," Aiden replied impatiently. "The people we seek are probably dressed in black robes, or similar attire. Are you sure you haven't seen anyone fitting that description?"

"No, not at all."

"Thank you for your time," Sir William interjected smoothly. "I'd be very appreciative if you would be so kind as to escort the rest of the people here out of the building. It's by the order of the duke." He showed her the letter from His Grace.

"Are we in danger here?" she asked timidly.

"Possibly," Sir William replied, "but we need to get everyone clear just to be safe. While you're at it, fetch the Captain of the Watch and make sure he comes here with support, as quickly as possible." She nodded silently, the consternation clearly visible on her face. Satisfied, Aiden and the knight turned and hurried to catch up with the rest, who were moving up the staircase at the end of the carpeted hall.

"Did you find any other doors in that little room? Aiden asked Ronan quietly, falling into step beside him.

"Nope, just that one we came through," he answered. "You're wondering how a bunch of black-robed killers strolled past all these people, aren't you?"

"It's like they just disappeared," Aiden said, mystified.

"Maybe they took the window?" Pacian offered helpfully. Aiden glanced at him, then looked to the walls and saw the darkened windows looking out over the frozen streets of Fairloch, and he realized that's exactly what they'd done.

"That's got to be it," he declared. Giving up the pretext of civility, Aiden raced up the stairs intent on getting to the Senate chambers before the assault started. When he reached the next floor, he was looking down a corridor at a set of large, polished double-doors with a guard standing to either side. They were lightly armed and armoured, and seemed to be ceremonial in nature.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is a closed session," the guard on the left intoned as Aiden led the others rapidly down the hall toward them.

"Does that door lock from the inside?" Aiden asked without stopping.

"What?" the guard replied, caught off guard by the blunt question. Aiden reached the door and tried to turn the golden handles, but found that it was indeed locked. The sounds of voices arguing something of great importance could be heard through the door, so it appeared there was still time.

"I need you to open this door," Aiden ordered the guard who had spoken. "There is a plot against the Senate, and these people with me are going to provide security while we move the senators to safety." Sir William handed over the letter of commission, which the guard glanced through briefly before giving it back, his expression changed from obstinance to uncertainty.

"Is there an imminent threat we should be aware of?" the second guard asked as he fumbled with a metal ring with a dozen keys upon it.

"Keep your eyes peeled, and when we go through here, secure the door and let nobody enter until the city watch arrives," Aiden advised as the door was unlocked. The sound of a man speaking instantly became clear as the doors opened to reveal a huge chamber with vaulted ceilings held up by tall, ornate columns. A number of large, comfortable chairs arrayed around a huge oak table in the centre denoted where twenty men and four women sat as they deliberated issues affecting the nation.

Aiden and his companions walked cautiously into the room, taking in the spacious, opulent surroundings and listening to the voice of the man who was speaking before the Senate. Across the room, Aiden spied Criosa seated at a special chair that appeared to be reserved for the King, wearing a regal blue dress and surrounded by her four royal guardsmen.

As the doors slammed shut behind them, the man who had been speaking went silent, and the entire body of senators turned to see who had entered. Criosa was making her way towards him, accompanied by her personal guards who didn't let her stray more than a few yards without protection.

"You are not permitted within these walls during a closed session, sirs," the foremost senator scolded him.

"Speaker of the house, distinguished senators — please forgive our intrusion," Sir William offered in an effort to placate the man. "We have been working under the auspicies of the Crown attempting to uncover evidence that—"

"Hush!" the speaker hissed, walking over to them to speak in a lowered voice. "After three days of debate, we are finally about to reach an agreement and end this debacle. I will permit you to remain, but whatever you have to say can wait a few more minutes."

He didn't wait for an answer, but instead turned and walked back to the assembly, apparently expecting them to follow his orders without question. Aiden was about to protest when Criosa rushed up to him and caught his attention.

"Aiden, what are you doing here?" she whispered as the speaker went back to addressing the senators.

"This place is about to come under attack from the assassins, or those associated with them," he whispered back.

"Just let him quash this bill first, then you can carry them out of here for all I care," she advised.

"I think they're in the building already so we need to get all of these people to safety. What is so important about this debate? In case I wasn't clear your lives are in danger."

"I have my guards, and you're all no strangers to a fight, correct?" she countered. "If something does happen, I'm sure you can deal with it."

"We have no way of guaranteeing the safety of everyone—"

"Oh, I have to say my piece now, excuse me," Criosa interrupted him, walking over to stand beside the awaiting house speaker.

"Criosa has it right, we should just grab them and drag them out of here, kicking and screaming," Pacian muttered.

"They have to come willingly, or we'll be fighting them every step we take," Sir William cautioned. "Not the best position to start a battle from." Aiden started to examine the layout of the room in case they had to fight here, noting the ample space and many windows through which assailants could approach. He caught the attention of Ronan and Pacian and gestured to the windows. They nodded in understanding and slowly made their way around the room.

The assembled senators stopped whispering amongst themselves and turned their attention to the princess, who stood next to the speaker and began to address them.

"It has been brought to my attention that this bill has drawn interest from more than a few of your number," she began regally. "I find this more disturbing than I care to admit. My father, our king, spent weeks in negotiations trying to persuade King Evariste Davignon of the peril we all face but when diplomacy failed, he had to act. Even now he fights for the safety and security of our great land, beset though he is on all sides by those that would see him fail. I can understand this desire from our enemies in Tulsone, but not here in his own home."

"If his supply lines are cut, he and the men with him will surely perish, and yet that is what you propose to do by closing the treasury. You will be responsible for his death as surely as those who will eventually put a sword through his body." Criosa became emotional as she spoke and wiped away tears from her eyes. The Senate as a whole didn't seem to be moved by this, although Aiden spotted one or two of the old men lower their eyes in shame.

"So, I implore you to consider well the implications of this bill," she continued, once more in control of herself. "Whatever you might think of this war, he is still our King, and it is our duty to support him in all things. Thank you for your time."

"Why would they want to cut funding?" Aiden asked Sir William under his breath. Criosa stepped away from the assembly as they whispered amongst themselves.

"I think we are about to find out," the knight answered ominously as Augustus stood. Unlike the others, he was wearing an ornate breastplate, though he did not appear to be armed. His receding hairline framed heavy-set features that betrayed no emotion as he took in the faces of the men around him.

"The floor recognizes Senator Johnson," the Speaker intoned.

"My esteemed Senators," Johnson began. "I thank Her Highness for speaking to us this evening, and I understand that this has been a difficult debate so I will keep my remarks brief. I must impress upon you all that it is not our duty to serve the king, but the Kingdom itself." His speech started quietly but built with each word into a powerful oratory.

"The people of this land count upon us to manage the realm in a responsible manner, and sending the Crown into bankruptcy to finance a war that has no purpose other than for His Majesty to bask in the glory of victory, over a foe that was not our enemy until we attacked them is selfish and wrong. Not only are we continuing to finance this travesty, trade deals with reputable Tulsonite merchants have been torn up, and the revenue loss is quite considerable for the entire Kingdom. Less revenue is less tax, and the combined effect of this is to drive us deeply into debt."

Aiden gripped the hilt of his sword in consternation, for while the senator railed against the Crown's spending, their enemies were doubtless moving into position. Ronan and Pacian had walked past the windows and made sure they were locked, which somehow didn't make Aiden feel any safer.

"We have been discussing and debating this issue for days," Augustus continued. "Let us put it to a vote and end this debate once and for all. Mister Speaker, if you would be so kind?" Aiden saw that Criosa was trying to appear calm, but her hands were clasped tightly together.

"All those in favour of discontinuing funding for the war effort, raise your hands," the speaker requested. "All those opposed?" the speaker asked, and more than half of the senators raised their hands — a clear majority. "The nays have it, the bill is defeated."

Criosa actually jumped a little with excitement before restraining herself and smoothing her dress once more. The Senate erupted into discussion, and Aiden looked at Augustus expecting to see bitter disappointment on his face. What he saw instead was more akin to calm resolve.

"I am truly sorry you could not be made to see reason," he spoke, loudly enough to be heard over the din. The senators hushed and gave him their attention, also sensing that something was about to happen. "Clearly you are no longer working in the best interests of the people, so I am force to disband you, permanently."

"You do not have the authority, sir!" the princess replied in shock. "Only the king may dismiss a member of the Senate, and not even he would dare disband the entire body at once. You are out of line."

"I wasn't asking your permission, Highness," Augustus corrected her, his voice quiet and purposeful. "In fact, I am going to achieve this through... other methods," he added, turning and walking towards an antechamber on the right side of the room. A startled shout from one of the senators heralded the appearance of twelve black-robed men who stepped out of the gloom cast by the tall columns, using some kind of shadow magic. They had been there, hidden from sight the entire time.

Chapter Twenty

The instant Aiden laid eyes upon the robed assassins, the room went completely dark. The thought that he had been struck blind flashed through his mind, until the sound of armoured men being cut down accompanied by screams of terror from the nearby senators echoed around the room. The darkness began to lift as Nellise countered it with whispered prayers of light. A subtle aura of radiance increased in strength with each passing moment.

Not far away, Criosa was holding one of the royal guards who was bleeding profusely from several injuries, along with the three other men sworn to protect her lying in their own blood. Two robed cultists stood there with bloodied weapons, and were on the verge of turning to finish the job.

Aiden reacted quickly, raising his hand and speaking the command word to activate his magical ring. With a gesture he shoved one of the men into the nearby wall and grabbed the other one, tossing him to one side before his weapon could hit Criosa.

Valennia roared out a battle cry that almost deafened everyone standing nearby, accompanied by the sound of her visor being slammed shut as she charged towards their robed enemies, who could only be seen as vague, shifting shadows moving around at the edge of the light. With her piercing cry, hell broke loose in the chamber as the terrified senators moved away from the oncoming enemy.

"Get her out of here!" Aiden shouted to Sir William, who rushed to Criosa's side and coaxed her gently towards the door, though the distraught woman had trouble letting go of the guards who had laid down their lives for her. Just as they reached the door, a vicious, scythe-like weapon pierced it from the other side, covered in the blood of the guards who had been stationed out there.

Criosa screamed as Sir William positioned himself between her and the door, and eased her backwards away from the threat. Once she was clear, he charged forward and slammed the full weight of his body against one of the doors, with Aiden rushing over to add his weight. Their enemies on the other side were shoved backward for a moment, but then regrouped and started to push the doors open again.

A curved blade suddenly poked through the gap stabbing blindly in the hope of hitting someone. The two men heaved with all their strength, but Aiden could feel his boots skidding across the carpet as the superior numbers of their opponents were slowly pushing the doors open.

Suddenly, it started closing again, as if several stout men had come to their aid. Without taking the time to find out why, Aiden and the knight redoubled their efforts until the doors slammed shut, and then Maggie rushed over and put the lock back into place. Turning to see who had helped them, Aiden saw Sayana standing there, palms outstretched towards the door and the faint light of her glowing tattoos shining along her arms.

Cries of help from across the room caught their attention, and it quickly became obvious that Valennia, Ronan and Pacian were outnumbered by the robed warriors, many of whom had simply rushed past and struck directly at the nearest senators, three of whom already lay dead on the plush carpet.

Sayana stretched out an arm and a trail of fire shot across the floor, all the way to the opposite wall. The line of fire swelled, billowing upwards to create a wall of flames that caught two of the assassins in its wake. They thrashed about as their clothing burned until they fell and stopped moving.

"We have to protect them!" Criosa cried, pointing at the terrified senators looking for some way to flee. She reached down to pick up the sword from one of her fallen guards as the sound of weapons hammering against the double doors grew louder. Thinking quickly, Aiden grabbed the nearest chair and threw it against the door, repeating this until furniture was piled high against it.

While Aiden went about blocking the door, Sir William lowered his visor, drew his sword and rushed forward to support his comrades. The palpable aura of darkness which had engulfed them vanished completely as Nellise channelled brilliant light to push it back.

Aiden went to Criosa's side as he took stock of the situation. His companions were involved in skirmishes all around the chamber, holding back the mysterious assailants to give the senators some space.

There was one robed warrior who had not rushed forward into the fight, and it was this man that Aiden suspected was responsible for the darkness. Holister had mentioned these men were part of some cult, and they clearly had access to dark powers as a result of their twisted devotion.

Valennia was their rallying point in the fight, for the Akoran warrior towered over the black robed figures surrounding her. With Ronan and Pacian keeping them busy with swift, darting attacks, Val was unleashing her full fury on the cultists, swinging her great axe back and forth with abandon.

Ronan took advantage of the chaos, his swords stabbing at their preoccupied enemies. The melee was furious, revealing the deadly skill of their opponents. The assassins Aiden and the others had faced had been trained for hit and run attacks, and faultered under the direct assault. But these men, armed with short, straight-bladed scythes four feet in length were clearly warriors first, priests second.

When Ronan thought he had the advantage of his opponent, another robed warrior dashed to aid his comrade and brought his blade across in a slashing strike to Ronan's side.

It was a deep cut, and the sailor couldn't recover from it fast enough to avoid the handle of the weapon coming up in a reverse motion, striking him in the face and dropping him to the floor, dazed and bloodied from the force of the blow. The assassin raised his weapon with the point down, intending to finish Ronan off in one strike when Valennia slammed into him, shoulder first against the wall.

Before the cultist could recover, she struck him in the head with the weighty haft of her axe, and then brought the sharp end around to take his head off in one swing. Sensing an attack from her flank, Valennia tried to dodge out of the way but wasn't quite fast enough as a blade cut into her arm.

Maggie darted her way through the fight, cutting and stabbing at the legs of the cultists as she went, too fast and small for their huge weapons to hit. When Ronan fell, she immediately went in his direction to see if she could get him back into the fight.

Sir William cut his way through the melee in an effort to take the pressure off Valennia, Solas Aingeal seeming to be particularly effective against their opponents as it sliced through armour and flesh alike. With Aiden guarding his flank, the knight dropped a cultist with a series of slashing strikes.

Aiden managed to get a close look at the men he was fighting, but all he could see was a metal mask of a helmet worn beneath the deep hood. The countenance of these masked assailants was terrifying enough, but it was the shape of the mask itself that paralysed Aiden in the middle of the fight, for he had seen it before in his nightmare of the Battle of Fort Highmarch. He didn't know why, but these men were part of the same cult that had been involved in that very battle.

With Ronan down, two of the cultists broke through the line and headed for the senators. Aiden saw them coming and invoked the power of his magical ring again, swiping away one of their weapons before they could get closer. The other one rushed at them but Aiden grabbed him with the force of the ring and lifted him three feet in the air.

Criosa stepped in, and with both hands, swung the heavy sword at the helpless cultist, leaving a trail of blood in its wake. Aiden tossed the body aside with a gesture and then drew his sword, moving forward to engage the other cultist. As he approached, the man extended his hand towards his weapon which lay on the floor several yards away. It suddenly flew through the air and landed hilt-first in his grip, and he brought it to bear just in time to parry Aiden's sword.

Another cultist rushed forward to assist and Aiden struggled to keep them at bay as they struck at him again and again. Nellise appeared at Aiden's side and together, they managed to hold off their assailants who suddenly found themselves on the defensive.

Aiden recognised that his skill just wasn't sufficient to break through, with every attempt to hit the cultists anticipated and turned away. Fortunately, Aiden was putting up such a fight that the man failed to see Criosa appear at his side and run him through with her sword.

Now three against one, the last cultist couldn't bring his heavy weapon around fast enough to hold them off, and soon fell under their combined efforts. Criosa and Nellise heard the warning from a senator about another enemy making his way towards them and rushed to defend. Aiden was about to join them when found himself standing relatively clear of the main skirmish and in direct line of sight to their leader, a towering figure holding a blackened scythe standing at the far end of the room

With his arms raised at Aiden, black lightning crackled out from his fingertips, striking his body and sapping his strength. The assault continued for several seconds, dropping Aiden to his knees and causing him to gasp in silent pain until a blast of icy shards engulfed the cult leader and his two closest brethren. The black lightning ceased immediately and the leader was the only one to survive the barrage.

"Maggie, you're a godsend," he gasped as the raelani druid appeared by his side and whispered a prayer of healing. As she worked, Aiden reached around to his scroll case and frantically pulled out what he had remaining. There were only two incantations left — one that would summon darkness, much like the cultists had used, and the other was a very complicated arrangement, involving some sort of rapid, limited travel that Aiden had only read about very briefly in his years of study. His headache was slowly clearing, and given the situation, he felt there was little to lose should it go awry.

His wounds had been staunched somewhat, and Aiden could feel his flesh slowly regenerating even as he crouched there. Whatever their leader had hit him with was devastating and he needed to be stopped before someone like Valennia or Sir William were hit by it, for without them their defence would surely fail.

Energy surged through Aiden, countering the effects of that strange black lightning and strengthening him beyond his normal capacity. Looking at Maggie with astonishment, she gave him a brief wink before hurrying away time find some other way to be useful.

His confidence returning, Aiden unfurled the scroll and began to invoke the runes inscribed upon it. It took a supreme effort of concentration to read out the complex language, and he nearly mispronounced more than one rune.

When the parchment crumbled to ash in his hands, he had expected to feel different somehow, but there didn't seem to be any noticeable effect. From what he had read of this sort of incantation, the caster had to exercise his will to achieve the desired result, so, raising his sword, he looked across the chamber to the raging battle and pictured himself stepping behind one of the preoccupied enemies.

Upon taking one step forward, Aiden felt a wave of energy pass over him, and suddenly he was exactly where he had pictured himself, standing right behind a robed warrior who was trying to break through Valennia's defences. Aiden stabbed the preoccupied cultist with one swift strike that pierced between the cultist's armoured plates. It was enough of a distraction for Valennia to take advantage and bring her axe down upon his head, cleaving metal and bone and instantly ending his life in a spray of blood.

Aiden's appearance brought chaos into the ranks of their opponents, but as they turned to deal with him, he concentrated and instantly appeared on the other side of the closest enemy, slashing at his less-protected leg and drawing blood. A flash of movement out of the corner of his eye prompted Aiden to twist around in time to see a scythe descending toward him.

The hit was partially deflected by the metal plates sewn underneath his leathers, but Aiden stumbled to one side from the force of the blow, keeping him purely on the defensive until a vythiric axe flew through the air and lodged itself into the head of his assailant, cleaving straight through the metal of his helm.

Turning to see an assassin bearing down on her, Sayana gestured with one hand and the axe lifted out of the dead cultist and flew through the air, chopping the newcomer in the chest and shattering his ribs.

Sayana was suddenly struck by a wave of black lightning crackling around her body. She cried out in shock and fell to one knee as Aiden turned to fix his gaze upon the ominous figure of the lead cultist. A heartbeat later he was standing beside the vile man, bringing his sword down in an overhead swing. It struck a barrier of spectral armour that prevented his blade from penetrating, but it provided enough of a distraction to break off the assault.

Aiden wasn't alone in this fight, for enough of the cultists had been defeated for Sir William to break through, the old knight bearing several wounds but with enough strength to continue the fight. Aiden tried to slash at the leader again but his blade was simply unable to cut through his defences.

As the priest brought his scythe around to attack Aiden, the young man disappeared and reappeared on the other side of the cultist leader, leaving the priest's weapon to hit only the ground where Aiden had been standing but a heartbeat earlier. Aiden swung his blade as the towering cultist brought up his hand, stopping Aiden's strike in mid-air before the man simply grabbed him by the front of his leathers and threw him against the wall several yards away.

Momentarily stunned, Aiden gasped from the pain echoing through his body and slumped against the floor. Sir William bellowed a challenge and rushed the final distance to the priest of death, Solas Aingeal bathing them both in a white light.

Their weapons clashed and as the old knight used all of his experience and cunning to assail the man. His holy weapon cut through the cultist's defences with ease. The priest unleashed more of the black lightning against Sir William, surrounding him in darkness, but the light from his sword grew brighter.

He redoubled his attacks, putting the priest of death on the defensive for the first time in the battle, though Sir William's face was bright red, and his breath came in short gasps from the effort.

Maggie, almost forgotten in the fight, darted across the floor towards Aiden. A large gash along her forehead indicated she had not been completely ignored during the battle, and once more she touched Aiden on the forearm and whispered a quick prayer.

"Ronan's going to be okay," she whispered, trying to catch her breath. "He took a nasty hit though—"

Before she could finish however, four more dark-robed figures burst onto the scene through the windows just above them, scattering glass over the floor. Aiden shook his head, trying to snap himself out of his dazed state but wasn't quick enough to help Maggie. The nearest of these reinforcements slammed the haft of his weapon into her side and whirled the scythe around to sever her left arm at the shoulder.

She screamed as the cultist grabbed her with one hand and hurled her through the air with supernatural strength, sending the wounded raelani druid crashing through a window and out of the building. Too enraged to be shocked by the small arm twitching on the ground before him, Aiden snapped out of his stupor and stabbed his blade into the foot of the assassin, plunging right through to the carpet beneath.

The cultist roared in pain and hesitated a moment before driving his scythe down towards Aiden's body. Expecting the counterattack, Aiden imagined himself above the cultist and found himself almost directly above the man, just as his scythe stabbed into the carpet where Aiden had been sitting. As he fell, Aiden brought his sword down in a devastating stroke that cleaved through armour and bone, dropping the assassin instantly.

While trying to regain his footing, Aiden heard a cry for aid from Sir William, who was now surrounded by three of their enemy's reinforcements. Recognising the danger posed by his holy blade, they moved quickly to eliminate him, cutting into him from all sides.

Aiden staggered over to assist by engaging the closest of the enemy, drawing his attention with a few timely strokes he'd picked up from Kinsey during their brief training session, but it wasn't enough. The knight smashed his shield against one enemy and slashed his sword at another, unable to break free from the enclosing ring of steel.

It was a masterful defence that could have gone on for several minutes, but in the end, Sir William was let down by his aging body which simply couldn't keep up. His shield arm buckled altogether under the assault of his opponents.

The knight's reactions slowed until he finally fell to the ground. Aiden roared with rage, cutting at his enemy in frustration as one by one his friends were struck down.

One of the assassins suddenly stiffened and dropped his weapon, then fell to the ground, revealing Pacian standing behind him with bloodied daggers. Two of the cultists slashed at him, only to find that Pacian had ducked out of the way with both men in close pursuit. A crossbow bolt struck one of them, quickly followed by another as Nellise provided support from afar. Criosa stood by her side with the bloodied sword in her hands and several long slashes along her dress, determined to keep any approaching enemies at bay.

Across the room, Valennia faced off against three cultists by herself, blood flowing from wounds in her arms and legs. With her visor down, the Akoran warrior-maiden was a fearsome sight as she tried to parry attacks from the combined force of her opponents, taking hits on her armour as she struggled against sheer weight of numbers.

A glancing blow to her helmet seemed to rattle Valennia for a moment, and two of her opponents leaped on top of her, attempting to pin her down. She staggered under the weight of the cultists for a long moment until, with a mighty surge of strength, Valennia threw both of them at the wall. The assassins crashed to the floor, but Valennia didn't give them time to recover, hefting her axe and cutting them into pieces in a berserker rage.

Aiden had kept his nearest enemy preoccupied while Nellise had lined up a shot, sending one bolt straight into the back of the cultist, allowing Aiden to finish him off with a precise strike. Struggling to catch his breath, Aiden staggered over toward Sayana, who was still trying to regain her footing after the priest's assault.

"Go and help Criosa, you're done here," Aiden advised, wiping blood from his mouth and steeling himself to head back into the fray. Only four of their enemies remained standing, but that was more than enough to eliminate the terrified senators who watched the fight from behind the overturned table.

Aiden could spare no time worrying about the sorceress, for when he turned back to the battle, he saw the priest of death approaching him once more. Aiden pictured himself on the other side of the room, and took a step forward but found that he had not moved. The incantation was spent, and he closed his eyes as he waited for the terrible black lightning to crackle forth again.

Aiden heard the distinctive sound in the air around him, but he felt no pain. Instead, there was the sensation of a warm breeze washing over him, and opening his eyes he saw that he was bathed in a warm light. Behind him, Nellise had discarded her crossbow and held aloft her crystal and the symbol of Kylaris, the cleric veritably glowing as she looked upon the cultist with a strange mixture of emotions on her face.

The darkness and the light surged and crackled around them as they fought for supremacy, with Aiden standing amidst the tempest of energies. The light flickered briefly, and he heard a deep chuckle from the robed priest as Nellise struggled to maintain her aura.

"You have strayed far from the light," she said to him in a voice tense with strain, but no longer afraid. "Feel the might of Kylaris burn away the darkness within you and face the judgement of your long-lost conscience."

"I have embraced the one truth of the universe, little lamb," the priest replied in a voice made hollow by his metal helmet. "I will show it to all of you before this night is through." Looking at Nellise's face, Aiden could see the doubt within. It was a test of pure faith, and the conflicted young cleric whispered her prayers fiercely, holding on to the words passing her lips as if they were life itself.

Across the room Pacian and Valennia fought the last of the other cultists, but Pace was clearly past the point of exhaustion and his reflexes were beginning to slow. He caught a glancing blow from the cultist's weapon shaft and fell to the ground, dazed.

Without pausing, the assassin brought his weapon up above his head in preparation for a killing strike. Aiden cried out in warning and charged across the distance, shouldering the priest before he could finish the job. The two men had dropped their weapons from the force of their contact and were reduced to punching and shoving each other around, until Pacian saw his opportunity and threw two daggers at the cultist, striking on his chest and slowing him enough for Aiden to grab both blades sticking out of the man and push them deeper, quickly ending his life.

The battle between Nellise and the dark priest had been raging this entire time, and the light from Nellise was slowly diminishing as the lightning began to reach closer and closer to them. The battle ended abruptly as Valennia, having stunned her opponent with a crushing blow to the head, sent her axe hurtling through the air at the priest of death, striking him soundly in the head with enough force to break through his spectral armour and end the assault.

Aiden, gathered up his sword and with a burst of adrenaline charged at the priest, catching him off guard and slamming his shoulder into the man. Both of them bore serious wounds from the fight, but neither was willing to concede defeat as Aiden focused all of his strength and wailed away at the priest like a man possessed. Valennia followed him in and retrieved her axe, fending off an assault on his flank as Aiden faced the priest.

As Aiden raised his force shield to block an incoming strike, it shattered into a hail of blue sparks when the scythe hit it and continued through to cut deeply into his arm, almost severing it in the process.

Staggering backward and trying not to pass out from the blinding pain, Aiden managed to keep his sword arm high as the cultist moved in, slashing back and forth with the weapon until it suddenly hit the shaft of Valennia's great axe.

Together, they scored several telling blows on the priest, who appeared to be about to topple over when he brought his scythe down upon Valennia in a devastating sweep, sundering the haft of her weapon and cleaving her breastplate. She dropped to the floor, bloodied and bruised.

In retaliation, Aiden cut his sword across the body of the priest and dropped him, just as Sayana rushed over to help, finishing off the cultist with a swing from her axe. As they stood over the fallen man, Aiden noticed the slain cultists around him were beginning to stir, bringing back terrible memories of the crypts beneath the church. One of them, with several of Pacian's knives sticking out of his body actually stood up.

"Oh no," Aiden groaned with dread as more of the priests began to stir. The senators screamed in terror and started clambering towards the blocked doorway in a panic. Valennia started frantically pulling herself away from the risen priests as they stood and Nellise gasped at the sight as she pulled Sir William's unconscious form back toward the table in the centre of the room.

Sayana saw this too and though she struggled for breath, raised her arms with the intention of creating something powerful. The faint light of energies surging along the markings visible on exposed parts of her skin flared, but faded again as she slumped, appearing too weak to complete the invocation.

And then something astonishing happened.

The feeble light in the room dimmed as Sayana lifted her arms again, and the dimming was accompanied by a strange tingling sensation in the air around Aiden that made the hairs on his neck stand on end.

The lights on Sayana's body began to coalesce once more and this time, as she began pulling in energy from her surroundings, including Aiden. He clasped her hand tightly and allowed her to tap into his strength until he fell to the floor, barely conscious. Sayana was able to stand now, the shimmering coming from the markings on her body growing brighter by the moment.

A strange smile appeared on her face, right before she pointed towards the small army of undead assassins rising before them and sent a massive ball of fire in their direction. The detonation was like nothing else Aiden had ever felt, an impact of almost physical sensation rattled him to his core as smaller pieces of furniture were tossed aside in the explosion's fury.

A wave of fire engulfed the cultists as the ball of fire struck the far wall, blasting it to pieces and erupting over the street outside. Pieces of smouldering stone and debris showered the room as the air was burned out before him.

Then, a stillness fell over the shattered chamber, accompanied by silence that was broken only by the crackle of flames from burning wood. The smell of charred flesh permeated the air as Aiden lay face down on the carpet, breathing heavily and praying the fire was enough to vanquish their enemies, for he had no more strength with which to fight.

Lifting his head, he surveyed the scene and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw nothing moving amidst the smoke and debris. Slowly rising to his feet, he looked to his companions and saw they were all still breathing. The remaining senators slowly peeked out from behind the enormous table with Criosa standing before them, clutching her sword with white-knuckled tension and her skin and dress partially covered in soot and dust.

Aiden slowly limped through the decimated ranks of the cultists to the far wall, which was now more of a balcony than anything else. There were no intact bodies to be found, but oddly, there was a small circle on the carpet that was free of debris or scorch marks. The cultist leader's scythe lay on the floor next to the circle, and looking around, Aiden couldn't see any sign of his body.

He felt a calm detachment from the scene, and noted that his numerous injuries weren't causing him any pain. This might be a bad thing, but right now he was just glad to still be alive. Looking down at the street below, he saw a huge crowd of citizens who had gathered to see what was going on.

A light snowfall drifted down from the sky as he spied Maggie, wrapped in a tourniquet and blanket that had been provided for her. She waved up at him with her remaining arm and he sighed with relief, noting the large bank of snow surrounding the building which must have cushioned her fall.

The sound of a sword being dropped on the floor near the senators brought Aiden's attention back to their situation, and with one glance he saw Senator Augustus Johnson, clad in an ornate breastplate and wielding a long dagger, slowly making his way towards the huge doors with Criosa held before him, his weapon poised on her throat. She barely breathed as she was led across the room, her blue eyes looking at Aiden in desperation.

"You think you've won here?" the senator uttered in cold rage. "All you have succeeded in accomplishing is the assured destruction of our Kingdom. There are forces at work beyond your comprehension while we squander our resources on a pointless war in another land."

"That is for the king to decide," Aiden rasped, attempting to distract the man. "It isn't your place to make decisions for him, let alone seek the assassination of the elected body. We've been following your trail for days, Senator, and with the evidence piled against you, you've no choice but to surrender." All he cared about was getting that weapon away from Criosa's slender neck.

"I'm afraid I won't be around to find out, boy," Augustus replied caustically as he started kicking furniture away from the door. As he did so, the sounds of banging could be heard coming from the other side.

"This is the City Watch! Stand clear!" came the muffled words as the doors started to buckle inwards.

"You've nowhere to go," Nellise remarked between breaths. "Best you surrender now rather than injure the princess and damn yourself in the process." Augustus seemed to consider this for a moment, as Pacian crept closer and closer to the man. Finally, the dagger came away from Criosa and she was pushed free.

"A wise move," Aiden told the senator as the man dropped his weapon and put his hands behind his head.

"More than you know," Augustus replied haughtily. "I have powerful allies, and I can assure you that I will not be hanged for this."

"I'd be satisfied with life in a dungeon for your troubles," Aiden muttered darkly.

"I will be imprisoned, certainly," the senator attested, "but my allies and I will be freed by my master long before the Ironlord defeats the king's army and comes to seize the throne. You have achieved nothing here today." Aiden stared at him in shock, alone amongst the people present in understanding that reference.

"How do you know that name?" he whispered, barely audible over the sound of the Watch breaking through the doors. Before Augustus could answer however, Pacian stepped up behind him and slashed a dagger across the Senator's throat.

"No!" Aiden gasped in disbelief as the senator fell to the floor to the screams of the people watching nearby. Nellise, aghast at the sight, ran forward to try and save the man. Pushing a stunned Criosa aside, Aiden limped up to Pacian, pure rage giving him a final burst of energy and stood there, nose to nose as he yelled.

"What the hell were you thinking?"

"Did you hear what he said?" Pacian yelled back, standing his ground. "Bastards like this always have a way of avoiding the consequences for their actions, but I made sure he paid the price this time." The doors finally gave way and a dozen watchmen burst into the room, weapons at the ready as they took in the incredible scene. Sensing the guards had their weapons pointed in his direction, Aiden calmed down somewhat.

"You've just crossed a line, Pace," he muttered quietly. "This wasn't some bandit leader or even a mercenary commander — you just killed a senator of Aielund in cold blood, and now we'll never know who was really behind all this. Remember 'Number One'? His 'master', as he just explained? This isn't him!"

"It doesn't matter," Pacian shrugged, keeping an eye on the guardsmen as they escorted the shaking politicians from the chamber one by one. "We've eliminated the assassins, and all the people he was relying upon to carry out his plans. We've cut off all his arms and legs, and there's nothing more he can do against anyone." Nellise, still kneeling over the remains of the Senator, looked up at Pacian with a combination of outrage and sadness.

"Aiden Wainwright and company?" A heavily built man with an impressive moustache asked, catching his attention. It was a senior officer of the City Watch and his expression did not bode well for them. "You're all coming with us until we can figure this out."

"We just saved these people's lives," Pacian retorted. "Ask them."

"The senators have vouched for you, as has Princess Criosa, sir," the guardsman explained, "except for the part about you stabbing one of the senators to death right in front of them. I'm not paid enough to figure out something as big as this, so take a few minutes to pull yourselves together, gentlemen, as I'll be taking you to see the duke so he can make a judgement."

Aiden gave Nellise a knowing glance, but she seemed unfazed by the implications. Nothing further was said as Nellise conducted some simple healing on everyone present, and once Sir William, Ronan and Valennia were back on their feet they were marched downstairs through the cold night towards the castle.

Chapter Twenty-One

Flanked by what appeared to be the majority of the City Watch, Aiden and his companions trudged through the cold streets on the way to the castle, stopping only to pick up Maggie on the way past. She sat in Valennia's arms, the Akoran warrior-maiden struggling with the load at first, but growing stronger with each passing minute as Maggie continued to treat her injuries even while she herself was terribly maimed.

The poor little raelani had managed to staunch her wounds after landing in the snow drift, but her right arm was completely gone. She seemed to be in mild shock, so she conducted her healing through a sort of hazy detachment.

Criosa had insisted on accompanying the weary group despite the reservations of the Sergeant of the Watch, and her presence was probably the main reason for the elaborate escort. She was an angel of mercy, moving amongst Aiden's battered friends to help tend to their wounds or offer simple words of gratitude and encouragement. She insisted the Watchmen relinquish their long cloaks to cover the injured group as they were marched through the streets.

Everyone but the Watch kept their distance from Pacian, who hobbled along oblivious to their shunning, proud of his deed. Aiden thought he'd be arrested on the spot, but Criosa convinced the guard to hold off until they had spoken with the duke.

The relative warmth of the castle beckoned as they crossed the drawbridge and were led directly through to the King's court, to be greeted by Sir Godfrey. He had been conferring with one of the City Watch who had run ahead to pass on the news.

Valennia put Maggie on the floor, where she was able to stand without any difficulty. While she was crouched, Aiden noticed the Akoran had acquired a new weapon which was strapped to her back. It was the cultist leader's scythe, still covered in blood from the battle.

"Are you sure you want to be carrying that thing around?" Aiden inquired, his voice weak and quiet. "For all we know, it's tainted from some kind of dark magic."

"I will purify it if necessary," she replied, "but I will not relinquish it, for it is a trophy of our glorious victory this night. I would have preferred to take the head of their leader but I could not find it."

"How about we get you a nice big axe instead," Aiden suggested. She answered with a shake of her head that had an air of finality to it. Further conversation on this topic was interrupted by the approach of Sir Godfrey, who was doing a very good job of keeping calm despite the grim news.

"Sir William, it is a pleasure to see you again," he greeted the old knight after spotting him in the group. Sir William had been silent since the fight, his greyish skin and drooping eyelids made him look far older than usual, but he seemed to perk up at the sight of the other knight.

"It's been too long, old friend," Sir William replied, his voice cracking with exhaustion. "I fear that affairs of state have conspired to keep you from the company of your peers."

"'Tis the burden of leadership I suppose," Sir Godfrey shrugged. "I am well-pleased to see you back in action in spite of your advancing years."

"Balderdash," Sir William scoffed, "you're only two years younger than I, so save your piteous sentiments for someone more deserving. I'm not quite ready to be put out to pasture quite yet, My Lord."

"Well spoken, sir, and it is tremendous to see you back in the thick of things. I only wish it was not under such dire circumstances."

"With respect, My Lord, it is the dark times that truly test who we are," Sir William replied solemnly. "It is only through challenge that we grow, even at our age."

"Quite so," Sir Godfrey nodded, smoothing his moustache in what Aiden would describe as a 'nervous fashion'. "I'm afraid we must talk of more pressing matters. The Watch has informed me of what has transpired at the Senate, Aiden."

"With respect, My Lord, they did not fully interview me on the spot," Aiden explained. "There is a lot more to be told."

"I should hope so!" Sir Godfrey bristled. "An attack of this scale on a major institution of our government is appalling, not to mention the death of one of our most prominent Senators."

"Pardon me for intruding," Criosa interrupted smoothly, "but will the duke be present for this meeting?"

"After he received word of the attack, I advised His Grace to put on his breastplate, Your Highness," Sir Godfrey replied in a more composed fashion. "We must take every precaution to ensure the safety of our leaders, and needless to say I would strongly urge you not to leave the castle again, Princess."

"Yes, I was expecting this," she sighed, resigned to remaining a prisoner here for some time.

As she spoke, a door on the far-left corner of the room opened and the duke strode out, clad in an ornate breastplate similar to that which Augustus Johnson had been wearing at the time of his demise.

Castellan Hodges scurried along behind him, trying to finish off attaching the straps to secure the armour, and a white-robed man Aiden recognised as a prelate of the Church hurried in to check the health of Aiden and his companions.

"Mister Wainwright!" the duke bellowed from halfway across the room. "I trust you can shed some light on the attempted assassination of over twenty members of parliament, not to mention the king's own daughter!"

"Things took a turn for the worse, Your Grace," Aiden began delicately, glancing at Pacian briefly. "A thorough search of Senator Johnson's house yielded no real evidence of wrongdoing on his part, until we discovered that he had been harbouring at least a dozen people in his basement." Aiden went on to describe how they had followed the trail which led to the Senate building, and the beginning of the attack upon the people therein while the prelate and Nellise began to heal their more extensive wounds.

He kept his remarks on the fight itself brief, as he was still coming to terms with the ferocity of the battle and the fact that they had won, despite the odds. Criosa had other ideas, however, and embellished their parts at appropriate intervals, making them out to be far more heroic than Aiden recalled. The duke seemed impressed, but when the discussion turned to the death of Senator Johnson, things became strained.

"Clearly the man was in league with, and possibly even organised the assassination plot against the Senate," he began in a measured voice, "and no one would have been enraged more than myself at the sight of the blaggard holding a weapon to our beloved Criosa's throat. But once he chose to surrender, it should have been plainly obvious to you, Mister Savidge, that he was no longer a threat, and indeed, could have provided further information as to the identity and whereabouts of this 'Number One' who continues to elude us."

"You're assuming he would have been co-operative," Pacian pointed out. "He was gloating at the thought of being released in the near future by his 'powerful friends' and I for one wasn't prepared to let that happen. Perhaps you wouldn't be dealing with a conspiracy like this if you had the guts to do what was necessary to protect your kingdom. The way I see it, this 'Number One' bloke has lost his key ally in the government and his organisation of expensive assassins has been killed. I don't know what happened to their leader, but if he's alive he's on the run now. In any case, the rest of them are dead and that's a win in my book."

"You should listen to the pretty blond man," Valennia added, drawing everyone's attention. "This senate man, Son of John, was your enemy. He brought in the robed ones to kill your elders, and he deserved to die for that crime. I only regret I did not have the opportunity to do it myself."

"I will not be spoken to like this," the duke growled ominously.

"All of you, please, remain civil!" Criosa cried in an effort to restore sanity to the room. The duke and Pacian glared at each other for a long moment until the old man stepped aside to catch his breath. The prelate finished up his healing and exchanged a long, brooding glance with Nellise that confused Aiden, but he didn't have time to think about at the moment.

"If we might stick to the issue at hand," Sir Godfrey interjected smoothly. "The individual who organised this is still at large... unless you think that Senator Johnson was this 'Number One' chap?"

"I had Mister Kinsey check his handwriting against the note that Aiden recovered," Duke Montague said somewhat more calmly than before. "They're not even remotely the same."

"Then the trail has gone cold," Sir Godfrey sighed. "We may never know who was behind this."

"If having his cause utterly destroyed wasn't enough to persuade him to run for the hills, we'll deal with him if and when he shows his face again," Pacian said with finality.

"Before he perished," Nellise mentioned quietly, tearing her gaze from the prelate, "the senator mentioned something about the 'Ironlord' coming to take the throne. Might this person, whoever he is, be 'Number One'?" At the mention of the Ironlord, Sir Godfrey and the duke went rigid, moving only to glance at one another.

"Augustus said this?" the duke asked quietly, receiving a silent nod from Nellise in reply.

"How on earth could he have found out?" Sir Godfrey whispered to the duke.

"He must have been told of it from someone who knew," the castellan mused ominously. "There may well be a spy within our ranks. I shall fetch Mister Kinsey at once," he added, turning to walk quickly towards a door that led further into the castle.

"I don't understand," Nellise remarked in confusion.

"The Ironlord is a matter of utmost secrecy within the king's court," Sir Godfrey explained. "I would have preferred to keep you in ignorance of this knowledge, but the cat is out of the bag, as they say."

"I haven't heard of this either," Criosa added archly. "Is it customary to keep your king's daughter ignorant as well?"

"When your father has ordered it to be so, yes," the duke lamented.

"Wait a moment," Nellise interrupted. "Is this the same Ironlord that attacked Fort Highmarch over a hundred years ago? The history books state that it was a barbarian warlord from the Windless Steppes who led an army against several nations."

"Those histories are a fabrication," the duke explained delicately. "It was thought that erasing knowledge of the true nature of this foe would diminish its influence over those that allied with it."

"I knew it," Aiden muttered under his breath, which nobody overheard.

"The Ironlord is a piece of living history from aeons past of this land, even before Aielund existed. It is not a man, but more of a device, similar to the constructs that our own University uses. This one contains a living spirit capable of higher thought, and bent on destruction."

"When it was spotted moving toward the borders of our land over a century ago, King Alaric the second brought together an alliance of diverse peoples to thwart it and the cult that had sprung up around it. It was hoped they would destroy the thing, but as they soon learned at the cost of many lives, it was impossible to kill."

"Our greatest hero, Reikthor, was at that battle," Valennia remarked soberly. "Our shamans tell us that he held it back while your leader enacted some mighty spell to make it disappear."

"Yes, and we are deeply indebted to the akora for that alliance, however brief though it was," Sir Godfrey replied gratefully. "It pained us to see your people taken over by a despot earlier this year, but word has reached us that your father, Morik, has reclaimed leadership of the akora, and assures us that the threat of hostilities has been averted."

"You can go home whenever you want," Sayana remarked. "Perhaps I might join you."

"Yes... home," Valennia mumbled, her face an unreadable mask. Aiden thought she would have been pleased by this news, but perhaps she simply had a strange way of showing it.

"As to making the Ironlord disappear, that part is mostly true, though it was not King Alaric who eventually won the battle," Sir Godfrey continued. He went on to explain more of the real history, repeating much of what Aiden had already learned from Salinder. When it came time to explain how they actually stopped the Ironlord, the collective disbelief from Aiden's companions was predictable.

"A golden dragon?" Nellise whispered, glancing at Aiden in shock. Sayana also looked at him with accusing eyes.

"Yes, and only this creature's sacrifice prevented the destruction of our Kingdom, and the lives of our ancestors," the duke finished. "This too was withheld from the records, and those who survived the battle were sworn to secrecy. Now, this infernal contraption is about to be loosed upon the world once more, and I can only pray that His Majesty's army is up to the challenge of destroying it once and for all."

"This is a lot to take in," Sir William remarked, smoothing his moustache.

"If swords and arrows were unable to stop it last time," Ronan mused darkly, "what makes you think they'll work now?"

"It is thought the Ironlord will be in a weakened state, vulnerable to such attacks," Sir Godfrey supplied.

"'It is thought,'" Aiden repeated in a hollow voice. "I don't know how you could assume that. What if it isn't?"

"Then it is likely that we shall bear witness to the destruction of our Kingdom," the knight stated flatly.

"Wait, we know of at least one other dragon in the area," Sayana interrupted. "I have no love for such creatures or the price they ask for their aid, but could we not persuade it to provide its services in the same manner as the last?"

"From the information we have received, there are no other dragons powerful enough to do what Salinder accomplished," the duke explained as Castellan Hodges entered the room with Kinsey at his side.

"You've had a hundred years and more to plan for this event," Aiden stated, "and the best you can come up with is to throw an army against it? That didn't work out so well last time. Is there no arcane device or spell that might be of use?"

"Alas, no," Duke Montague replied. "Despite the research conducted by the University and a thorough search of historical records, there was nothing that was deemed to be of immediate use."

"'Immediate use'?" Aiden repeated, his ears pricking up. "What exactly does that mean?"

"The only thing we found that might have a chance of being useful was uncovered only this year, in an ancient text thought to be written by the wizard Aeldrith before he began practicing the forbidden arts of necromancy," the duke said. "Given the source, I'm sure you can understand our hesitation to use it."

"Given the situation, I would think you would investigate every opportunity, regardless of risk," Aiden criticized. "Can I see this text?"

"As you wish," the duke shrugged. "It may be at the University still, where such things are kept safe."

"Actually, Your Grace," the castellan interrupted, "I have been reading through it of late, trying to make sense of some of the more obscure writings. I had the presence of mind to fetch it when the subject of the Ironlord came up." He carried in his hands a large book, its cover faded with time but still legible.

"'Ancient Artefacts from Olde Tymes'," the duke spoke aloud, having no trouble with the Olde Aielish that it was written in. "I see you've placed some bookmarks in here, castellan."

"Those are the sections I found most pertinent," he explained. "The item in question is called the 'Sceptre of Oblivion', thought to banish anything it touches into a distant realm."

"And what was the problem with obtaining it?" Nellise asked.

"As I understand it," Castellan Hodges disclosed, "there are three possible locations for the artefact, all of them quite perilous. There is mention of the dwarven city of Ferrumgaard, but since it was destroyed the chances of recovering it are remote."

"Yes, there isn't much left of that place," Aiden remarked, shuddering at the memory of his time there. "It might be possible the dwarves still have the sceptre, having brought it with them to their new home of Stonegaard after the evacuation."

"We hadn't considered that possibility," the duke mused, "but so much was left behind in the chaos, the chances are slim at best I would say."

"It might still be worth a try," Aiden suggested, carefully turning the page to where the sceptre was depicted. The sketch was faded terribly, but seemed to be an elaborately designed metal rod, almost a staff really. Aiden had briefly hoped that the sceptre he had found back at Ferrumgaard was the one being spoken of, but there was no resemblance. "What about the other possible locations for this relic?"

"If you look closer, the name 'Feybourne' appears at the bottom of that page," the duke pointed out. "We believe it is referring to an earlier version of the University located in the ruined city where relics like this would have been collected. The Archmage Cuthbeort was a renowned artificer who may well have held the sceptre in his collection for a time. Of course, Feybourne has also fallen, and the time it would take to sift through the ruins and recover it would be untenable."

"Feybourne?" Maggie chimed in, speaking for the first time since Aiden had seen her flung out of a window. "Ever since they moved into the area, my order declared it a sacred site and limited access to the ruins. That was before they became rather adversarial towards the Kingdom, too. Aiden and I were going there to deal with the problem, so we can probably break in and conduct a search of the place."

"Are you sure you're up to it?" Aiden asked quietly, trying to avoid specifically mentioning the loss of her arm.

"I can regrow my arm," she told him, "and I still have a job to do and I'm not going to let it stop me. I may not be able to juggle for a few days, but I can still walk and breathe, and until that changes I'm going to finish what I set out to do."

"Did I fall asleep and miss the part where we've agreed to look for this thing?" Ronan remarked dryly. "If the king's advisors didn't think it was a good idea to try and find it, why should we be any different?"

"Because you have the time to conduct a search," Duke Montague said, "and also because Aiden is something of an expert in this field, is that not correct?"

"I think the wizards at the University might disagree on that point, but tracking down artefacts is a speciality of mine," Aiden agreed. "But more than that, I know what's coming if we don't do something to help."

"Sometime soon you shall have to explain to me how you came across knowledge of this affair," Sir Godfrey remarked suspiciously. "But, regardless, through your numerous acts of courage and the blessing of our own Princess, you have more than proven your loyalty to the Kingdom so I have no compunctions about allowing you to take the lead on this task."

"What about this third place you mentioned?" Ronan asked. Sir Godfrey and Duke Montague glanced at each other in trepidation as the old man cleared his throat before answering.

"Understand that this is purely conjecture at this point," the duke began. "The two locations mentioned in the text are quite clear, but there is another possibility. As I said, this tome was written by Aeldrith, before he began the dark path of necromancy. After he was defeated by the Church of Aielund, he fled to what is now referred to as the Isle of the Dead, not far off the coast, there to live out the remainder of his days in exile."

"You think he might have taken the sceptre with him," Aiden surmised, drawing a nod from Castellan Hodges. "Then if we don't find it at the other two locations, we may have to find out if the rumours concerning that benighted island are true."

"It is a remote chance, but if all else fails, that may be your only hope," the castellan warned. "I implore you to search Feybourne and Stonegaard thoroughly first, however, because if even half of what I have heard about the isle is true..."

"Well, let us hope it doesn't come to that," Aiden agreed, recalling the sight of the island from on board the Redoubtable and feeling a chill run down his spine.

"To Feybourne, then," Pacian nodded.

"I am more than willing to help in this noble endeavour," Sir William said, looking at Pacian, "but I will no longer associate with this man. Regardless of his protestations of altruism, he is a killer, and I will have no further part of anything he is involved with, or those who stand for his beliefs. And if this savage woman supports Pacian's misguided philosophy, then she also has no place in our company."

"That's fine," Pacian shrugged. "I was getting kind of sick of you anyway. The rest of us will manage without you anyway. Better, actually."

"Without my fearsome prowess, the battle would have been lost, yet you dare question my motives?" Valennia growled.

"There is no question as to your motives, madam," Sir William replied evenly.

"You don't get to decide who stays and goes, Willy," Pacian shot back, "only Aiden gets to make that call. What do you say, mate?"

"Valennia is invaluable in a fight, as is Sir William," Aiden replied after a moment of thought. "He does make a good point though — killing the senator was bad enough, but being proud of it? You're way out of line, Pace, and I don't think we need your particular kind of 'help' in the future. There's too much at stake."

"You're kicking me out?" Pacian cried in disbelief. "I don't believe it. I expected a short-sighted attitude from some of these people but to hear it from you? I get it... it's this place — it's changing you. If you think you're going to become one of these rich nobles and get some respect, then you're as deluded as they are." The rage and frustration Aiden felt growing within him since the Senate could not be contained any longer. He walked up to Pacian and stared him right in the eye.

"You and I? We're through," Aiden growled through gritted teeth. "I've tolerated your thuggish attitude far longer than any sane man should, and this is where we part ways. Three times now you've gone and killed a helpless man, and that's my quota. Stay the hell away from me, and if any of you have a lick of sense, you'll keep your distance from this maniac as well," he added, casting his baleful eyes around at his companions.

Nobody spoke after Aiden's brief tirade, and one could cut the tension in the room with a knife. The nobles stood back, watching without comment as events continued to unfold. Aiden stepped away from Pacian and gestured for Maggie and Sir William to follow suit, intending to find out where everyone stood.

"Anyone who wants to join us on the journey to Feybourne, now's the time to do so," Aiden said plainly. "There will be no indiscriminate killing. We're going to try and talk our way through first, but if it comes to it, we'll fight if we have to."

"I don't care what you think about me," Pacian said in a low voice. "I did what was necessary, and I'm not going to apologise for it. But I'm still working for the Crown, even if you don't want to have anything to do with me. Since time is an issue here, I'll go to Stonegaard and see if I can locate the sceptre and I don't much care if any of you come to help me or not."

"I am hardly going to allow you to lead an expedition to the homeland of a valued ally," the duke scoffed. "I would ask Miss Sannemann to take charge of that, if you would."

"Of course, Your Grace," Nellise answered. "I'll do my utmost accomplish the task you've set. Sayana, I'll need your expertise in magical affairs to assist."

"That's fine by me," Sayana answered, avoiding both Aiden and Ronan's inquiring look.

"You paid me to fight for you," Valennia said to Aiden. "Yet you have given me more wealth than I ever hoped to find in one single payment, which I accept as a measure of my worth. Since you have made it clear my servitude is ended, I am free to choose my own path. I will go with Nellise, to protect and aid her on her quest."

"I thought you'd be heading home?" Nellise asked curiously.

"I... choose not to," Valennia replied stubbornly.

"Alright, Your Grace," Aiden remarked, "it looks like we're going to tackle both places at the same time, which is probably a good idea for many reasons. Ronan, we could use your help."

"You got it," the sailor replied, moving to stand with Aiden, Maggie and the knight.

"I concur that this new arrangement is probably for the best," the duke replied diplomatically, as Pacian stood alone in the middle of the room.

"So, that's it? I'm cast out for doing what nobody else had the guts to do?" Pacian asked nobody in particular. "Fine, I'll help out in my own way whether you like it or not." He walked up to Aiden and offered his hand. "No hard feelings, mate," he said, which seemed like a magnanimous gesture on his part. Aiden shook his hand but said nothing, for there was nothing else to say. With that, he turned and stalked out of the courtroom, to the dead silence of those present.

"We'll make do without him," Kinsey remarked. "Aiden, if you could provide Nellise with half of the funds you were given by the Crown, I'm sure she could put them to good use."

"I'll be sure to do that before we leave," Aiden replied, feeling a measure of relief after the tense situation. "So if there's nothing further, I think we should all rest up before we head off."

"A splendid idea, one that we should all take heed of," the duke commented. "It has been a stressful time for all of us, but one I think you can all be proud of. You have ended the threat against the princess and saved the lives of many important people this evening, and for this we are eternally in your debt. Thank you."

Aiden nodded his thanks as they started filing out of the royal court in two separate groups. Criosa caught his attention on the way out, offering only a forlorn look as she was escorted further into the castle. She managed to mouth two words to him before disappearing into the castle, however — "Thank you."

It was small recompense, because for all of their achievements, the sentiment felt hollow to Aiden as the rift between his companions became greater than ever, and his simmering rage at Pacian did not relent.

Epilogue

After a brief word with the other three, Aiden decided they would move to a different inn for the night. At Maggie's suggestion, they headed to another establishment in the southern part of the city called the Tradeway Tavern, where the raelani druid had first stayed upon her arrival. It was one of the few places in the city that catered directly for raelish men and women who visited Fairloch, even going so far as to feature half-sized rooms the little people felt right at home in.

The feeling of warmth from the fire as they stepped out of the cold weather carried with it the scent of exotic herbs from the kitchens, and before long the four of them were enjoying a hearty stew that was more than filling, with fresh buttered bread on the side. There was little talk among the companions that evening, for they were all exhausted from their efforts. Maggie touched Aiden's hand briefly during the meal, offering silent comfort at the loss of his friend.

After his second helping of the delicious food, Aiden felt sleep slowly overcoming him, so he bid the others a good night and headed up to his room. It was smaller than the accommodation at the Fair Maiden, and the bed was noticeably less comfortable, but it was good enough for the weary young man.

After undressing he quickly dove under the blankets to escape the cold air. His thoughts drifted to the magnitude of the events they had dealt with that day, and he wondered if this "Sceptre of Oblivion" was going to be so easily recovered. The idea that Pacian would have gone to the dwarven city of Stonegaard to ask nicely if they could hand over the relic, if they had it, was laughable to Aiden. For all his cunning, Pacian was impatient and lacked subtlety.

Nellise would do a fine job and she seemed to have pulled herself together for that last battle, rising above the horrors of her past to regain her faith in a profound way. Taking on this challenge was a good sign, though he did wonder what Sir William thought of it. He would ask the knight in the morning, as they were gathering supplies for the journey south. They would have to deal with both Maggie's sect and search through potentially dangerous ruins if they wanted to find this enchanted sceptre.

Sayana too had seemed to cross a personal barrier in the last fight, gathering her strength when they needed it most. The only thing that had Aiden worried was the smile on her face as she blew half the Senate's wall to dust.

Tossing and turning with all of these thoughts crossing through his mind, Aiden opened his eyes, unable to sleep. He stared up at the ceiling and lamented he was able to see it, despite having blown out the candle he'd used to find his way up to the room. Glancing around, he saw a blue light coming from his belongings, inviting him closer to investigate.

He got up and opened the pouch, to see the glowing cube resting on a pile of coins, forgotten in the events of the day. Taking it in one hand, he held it before him and marvelled at the curious light softly emanating from the device. Out of instinct, he touched it with his thumb and almost dropped it when he saw the top panel of the cube pop open and light up.

It was a solid, constant light which outlined strange symbols and runes across its surface. He had seen these symbols before, inscribed on the side of the cylinders that both Dale in Bracksford and Desmond in the University had in their studies. The letters shifted and scrolled around, moving a little too fast for Aiden to make any sense of, even if he could read the language.

Several other dots of light had appeared on the side of the cube, and Aiden's heart quickened as he realised that the cylinder had somehow repaired the ancient relic, and its secrets were now his to behold.

Touching one of the glowing dots, Aiden fell back in surprise as the flickering images of runes and symbols jumped out of the screen and hovered above the cube itself, far larger than before. Enraptured by the display, the hours passed by as Aiden delved into the mysteries of the strange device and slowly but surely, he began to learn.

About the Author

Stephen L. Nowland resides in Frankston, Australia, where he spends his time creating stories, games and art to astound and entertain.

http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/sln

Further information on this novel and upcoming titles can be found at his website, and you can follow his progress on Facebook and Twitter.

https://www.facebook.com/stephenlnowland

www.stephenlnowland.com.au

@stephennowland

The Aielund Saga

Soldiers of Winter

Soldiers of Avarice

Soldiers of the Crown

Soldiers of Ruin

Soldiers of Legend

Soldiers of Tyranny

Soldiers of the Heavens

Other titles by the same author

The Ballard Trilogy

In the Wake of War

The Fortress of Gold

Upon the Ashes of Empire

