

The Carbynarah Chronicles

By Jon Franklyn

Copyright© 2017 by Franklyn Publishing

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be copied, reproduced, distributed, stored in, transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the Publisher and Author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the Publisher, addressed "Attention: Permissions Coordinator," at the address below.

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# Acknowledgements

**I would like to express my gratitude to the many people who willingly gave their support as I wrote this book. To those who tirelessly talked things over, read, wrote, offered comments, allowed me to pester them about ideas, and especially those that freely gave their opinions and assisted in the editing, proofreading, and design. There are too many to list them all... just remember that I appreciate all you did.**

**To Kent Garland atKent@GoMarketingUSA.com for his support, ideas, designs, website, social media and commitment to this project's success.**

**I would like to thank Julie. Without her love, support, and faith in me, I would not have had the courage to move forward. I would get all gushy here, but it would only embarrass her – so it is best to say that she is the light in my life that I write by.**

**To write any more would just take time away from you starting to read the first book in this series. I hope you ENJOY!!**

# The Carbynarah Chronicles

The Narrative of the Times

The Shakarine armies, led by their Warrior Wizard, had reignited the ancient tension between the members of the Wizards' Guilds and the citizens of Carbynarah. It had been a thousand years since the Treaty of Carta eased the tension caused by the Shadow Wars. It took several more years for the citizens' desire to eliminate all members of the Guilds, their families, and any others that used magic, to cease.

The wizards and their warrior spells had been responsible for most of the dead and wounded on the battlefields. Their magic had indiscriminately killed and maimed generations of men who fought in the Shadow Wars. It was common for battlefield widows to discover that on the same day that they lost their husbands they had also lost their sons and grandsons.

It was only after the citizens of Carbynarah had mercenaries and members of the Assassins' Guilds hunt down and kill magic users and their families, that the Wizards' Guilds finally accepted the citizens' demand to stop the use of warrior magic.

The signing of The Carta preserved the wizards, their families, and their Guilds-including all who used magic. The treaty forced the Wizards' Guilds to cease all use and teaching of spells.

The treaty had worked. The signing of the agreement, known as "The Carta", brought a thousand years of peace. Time had become a healing balm for the Wizards' Guilds. The Guilds focused on magical research to develop spells that would benefit humankind; thus, allowing wizards to become an integral part of society, responsible for providing better lives for the people of Carbynarah.

Magically enhanced crops grew twice the food and magical bobbles (like warmth rings) helped those living in the North Country keep warm during the cold winters. Every part of society had grown to rely on Wizards' Guilds.

But old fears began to manifest themselves with rumors of a Warrior Wizard leading the Shakarine forces against neighboring kingdoms in the north spread across the land. Magic users, their families, and their maiggii were being hunted down and killed or imprisoned. Crops that relied on the magical enhancements were failing and food shortages were becoming a problem in many of the Kingdoms of Carbynarah. These rumors, and the refugees escaping from the war-torn parts of Carbynarah, forced the leaders to call an emergency meeting to deal with rekindled fears.

The Shakarine attack of the High Plains, led by their Warrior Wizard, was the fear of the day. Many of the Kings representing Kingdoms across Carbynarah were unable to attend the Executive Committee Meeting of the Grand Council because they were defending their Kingdoms from the Shakarine and their allies' attacks.

It was during this meeting that King Timon, High King of the High Plains, via the Casfur, contacted Grand Master Raajanaar, the leader of the Grand Council. The Casfur, a magic orb forged by the Guild of White Essence – that allowed designated people to communicate with each other over long distances, glowed softly. The activation of the Casfur caused the council members to silence their discussion. All eyes focused on the lightly lit orb that rested on the table next to Grand Master Raajanaar.

"Grand Master!" screamed King Timon. The Grand Master turned toward the Casfur looking at the King's face that appeared in the small orb. "HELP! We are..." the King shouted with tears streaming down his face. He then took a deep breath before continuing, "My youngest son has been dispatched to your home. Be there when he arrives." Suddenly, the Casfur went dark.

# Chapter 1

The thunder, created by a lightning bolt streaking across the sky, brought Yron out of his bed. Magic! he thought. Something was wrong; the bolt was too far away from the barn to be one of Master Raaj's practical jokes. Yron grabbed his cloak as he ran down the stairs that led from his room in the loft of the old barn to the stable below.

By the time Yron reached the door to the barn, two more lightning bolts had flashed across the sky. The thunder followed immediately, and its echo rattled throughout the valley. The idea that magic could create lightning was something Yron was still trying to grasp. After all, it was only two days ago that Raaj had introduced him to the concept of magic as a weapon. This went contrary to everything Yron had learned as Raaj's maiggii over the past four years, as well as the two years before that when he served as Raaj's apprentice. Raaj had taught him that magic was developed solely for the benefit of humanity, to make life easier.

On the hill above their homestead, Master Raaj was preparing to cast another spell. In his left hand, he held his Wizard's Staff which pointed skyward. He could see Raaj was searching the clouds for something.

"Ojernof!" Raaj shouted as another lightning bolt shot out of the fingertips of his outstretched hand, striking a dark shadow hiding just within one of the cloud's layers. Unlike what Yron would have expected, the lightning bolt was a light blue, rather than the white of natural lightning. It branched out from Raaj's fingers traveling many directions at once rather than directly toward the object of Raaj's attack. Some of the tips of the lightning bolt struck nearby trees or the grassy knoll on which Raaj stood, but when it struck objects other than what Raaj was aiming at, it did no damage, it didn't even ignite the dried grass that covered the knoll.

Yron watched Raaj, taken aback that Raaj was casting spells without hand gestures or chanting. He was using a single word to activate his spells. There was nothing in Yron's training, nor anything he had read, to indicate that such magic existed.

Master Raaj was casting ancient forbidden magic spells only two days after telling Yron about the existence of the forbidden wizard spells. Raaj had explained to him that these spells were forbidden to be used by any wizard. The Carta also barred him from casting the deadly spells.

Yron watched, in awe, as Raaj, once again, cast one of the forbidden spells. He saw the attack spells knock its burning targets from the sky and crash to the ground. Now he finally understood why the citizens of Carbynarah forced the Wizards' Guilds to sign The Carta.

Yron instinctively knew he was responsible for being at his Master's side and began running up the gentle slope to where Raaj stood. While he wasn't trained in forbidden magic, Yron knew lesser spells that could be cast against non-magical beings to provide some protection against whatever Raaj was fighting.

"Protect the King's messenger!" Raaj shouted as Yron reached his side, pointing down the slope where someone on horseback had entered the clearing where they lived.

Yron could see the young man on a horse charging up the path to the courtyard; he began to understand why Raaj was using the prohibited spells. The Hawkriders' attacks were focused on the young rider. If Raaj had not used this magic, they would have succeeded in their attacks against the rider.

Yron ran down the path to intercept the messenger. His horse was exhausted, its hoof tips dragging across the ground with each step. Yron could hear the screams of the rider encouraging the horse onward.

The messenger was slumped across the neck of his horse, an arrow stuck in his back. The dried blood on the horse's hindquarters indicated the three arrows stuck in the rear of the horse had been there for a while.

Off to the side, Yron could see a Hawkrider preparing his bird to attack the rider and his horse. The Hawkrider tucked his head in behind the bird's neck as it folded its wings and dropped from the sky. As the rider passed him, Yron stopped and turned toward the diving hawk. Beginning the chant for the Darkness spell, Yron performed the hand gestures necessary to complete the spell. Once the spell was ready to cast, Yron waited until the Hawkrider was within range before he shouted, "Darkness!" which completed the spell.

The piercing scream of the hawk as it neared its prey had the exact effect intended; the horse, paralyzed in fear, stumbled and fell to the ground, but the Hawk was unable to make any last-minute adjustments in its attack because of the Darkness spell. The spell caused the hawk to fly over its intended target, crashing into the ground not more than ten feet ahead of its victim. Had the horse not stumbled and fallen, the hawk, though it was blinded, would have struck a deadly blow to the horse and its rider.

Hawkriders, Yron thought. From what he had read, Hawkriders and their guild stayed in the south. Yron could remember the stories Raaj had told him about the Hawkriders and the beautiful sheer cliff where the untamed giant hawks flew. From what Yron could recall, the Hawkriders would kidnap the wild hawk eggs, and the Hawkrider's maiggii would raise the newly hatched chick until it was ready to ride. Unlike the test that many guilds use to determine membership into their guild, the Hawkrider Guild's test requires the maiggii and hawk survive the first flight of the rider on the hawk's back.

From what Yron understood, after that, very seldom if ever, does the hawk fly without its rider. Yron had watched many young birds leave the nest for the first time with disastrous results; he was glad he didn't have to ride on that first flight.

The screech of another hawk preparing to attack forced Yron to look behind him. Above, Yron could see several other Hawkriders preparing to attack; two were firing arrows at the messenger from their perches as they circled the meadow where Yron was standing. Yron knew he had to get the rider under the trees. That was the only way he could protect him from the arrows. This is going to be difficult, he thought. The trees are more than 50 feet away.

The fallen rider had used his belt to tie himself to the horse's saddle. Pulling his Crowl (a magical dagger given to a wizard's maiggii when they obtain the rank of maiggii), Yron cut the belt that held the messenger to the saddle. As Yron attempted to pull the man free, one of the messenger's legs was still pinned under the horse. Perhaps if I pull when the horse struggles to get up, I will be able to release the leg, Yron thought. Each time the horse attempted to get up, Yron pulled on the rider but nothing happened. Something else must be holding the rider to the horse, he thought.

"Sleep," Yron commanded as he cast a spell on the horse, causing it to go limp.

Looking up, Yron knew there wasn't enough time to pull the messenger out from under the horse and drag him to cover. Another hawk was preparing a dive attack. When the second hawk began its dive, Yron knew that even if it were blinded, because they were stationary and in the open, they would be unable to escape the talons of the attacking bird.

Wind! I need a gust of wind. Looking at the treetops, Yron decided there was just enough wind to cast the spell. Yron had learned that the intensity of his chant would dictate the intensity of the spell, but it was not until the wind had knocked him from his feet that Yron realized he had been yelling.

The wind not only pushed the hawk off course, but it also caused the men circling above to release their bows and grab onto the saddles attached to their hawks to prevent themselves from falling. The attacking hawk was knocked off course by the Wind spell as Yron immediately cast another Darkness spell.

The hawk adjusted its dive at the last second to prevent crashing into the ground, the rider lost his balance and fell from the hawk when the bird pulled out of the dive and sped away from the ground.

The Hawkrider bounced across the ground and wasn't moving, but Yron couldn't take the chance that he could still get up, so he cast a Sleep spell on the downed rider. The territorial nature of hawks caused the rider less hawk, now free from the control of a rider, to attack the other hawks in the sky.

By casting a Levitation spell on the downed horse, Yron was able to lift it high enough to see why he had been unable to pull the rider to safety; the rider's leg was pinned to the horse by an arrow. Reaching under the horse, Yron broke the arrow shaft off, pulled the messenger free, and then dragged him to safety under the nearby trees.

Removing his cloak, Yron placed it over the injured messenger. The magical attributes of the cloak should provide camouflage by blending into the surrounding terrain, which would protect the messenger from any additional aerial attacks.

Inspecting the wounded rider, Yron knew if he attempted to remove the arrows now, he would have to deal with bleeding. He didn't have time for that. Casting a Rest spell on the rider would cause him to rest comfortably. Once Yron knew the rider was safe, he headed up the knoll where Raaj was still battling with the remaining Hawkriders.

"Are the messengers safe?" Raaj asked Yron as he arrived.

"Messengers?" Yron questioned. "There was only one."

"No! There were two messengers; an escort and the King's courier," Raaj explained.

"I saw both riders when they entered the clearing, over there." Raaj pointed to the place where the trail through the woods entered the clearing, "Go and find the other messenger."

As Yron ran down the knoll toward where the trail exited from the trees, he could see the bodies of several hawks and their riders scattered across the ground. Above, the remaining Hawkriders had pulled back and were flying over the trees just out of reach of Raaj's spells. The sky didn't have rain clouds, which puzzled Yron because from what Raaj had told him, you needed moisture created from rain in the clouds to cast a Lightning Bolt spell.

An arrow hit the ground twenty feet in front of Yron, causing him to refocus on the situation at hand. Looking back, Yron could see a Hawkrider chasing after him. Yron stopped long enough to cast a Flash spell, hoping the magical light flash would temporarily blind the rider and give him time to hide.

But the spell didn't work; either the chant or the hand gesture was wrong. There wasn't time to attempt another spell, so Yron sprinted for the tree line which he believed would protect him from the Hawkriders and their arrows. Behind him, Yron could hear Raaj's lightning bolt strike the Hawkrider that was attacking him.

As he reached the tree line, Yron climbed one of the trees hoping it would give him a platform high enough to find the other messenger. From that height, Yron could see the downed horse of the other rider but there was no indication of where he had gone.

Several Hawkriders circled over the second downed horse, making it obvious that they were searching for the missing rider as well. One hundred and fifty feet to his left, Yron watched two Hawkriders land their beasts and secure their harnesses to stakes that they had driven into the ground. Once finished, they began searching for the missing rider on foot. Drawing his Crowl, Yron dropped from the tree and crawled through the high grass toward the staked hawks. As he cut the hawks' harnesses staked to the ground, Yron cast the Boo spell he had developed. The spell startled the hawks and they immediately took flight, heading south and away from the fighting.

As the two Hawkriders on the ground rushed back toward where their hawks had been staked, Yron crawled down the slope toward the wounded horse. Perhaps he could find a clue as to where the rider had gone. Back on the top of the knoll, Raaj had stopped casting spells. Most of the Hawkriders were downed or out of range. Instead, he focused his attention on the two Hawkriders that were stuck on the ground. Yron watched as Raaj cast another spell; it was like a lightning bolt but raced along the ground, striking the downed riders.

From the blood on the ground, Yron could see that the second rider was wounded as well; he could see a blood-smeared path that led back toward the trees. By following the trail, Yron quickly found the other messenger. As another arrow fired from one of the circling Hawkriders struck the ground near Yron, he regretted leaving his cloak with the other rider. The magical properties of the covering would have been helpful now.

Yron watched as Raaj attacked the Hawkrider that had just fired the arrow at him. Even though Yron couldn't see any other Hawkriders, he decided to wait until the sun the set before venturing out from his hiding spot. He knew it wouldn't take long for the shadows from the trees to provide him with the cover he needed to make it unseen.

There, against one of the trees, Yron could see the other rider. It was evident by the way he was slumped against the tree that he was dead. Yron could see the emblem of Yemenor on the sleeve of the rider's armor. This must be the courier sent by the King, Yron thought but sent to whom? Did these riders just stumble upon the hidden path into the woods that led to Master Raajanaar's homestead as they hid from the attacking Hawkriders? Or did they...? Were they here for Master Raaj?

The last thought made the most sense to Yron. Raaj had been unsettled when he returned from the Emergency Executive Meeting of the Grand Council; it was clear from the way he kept checking the Alert spells that he was expecting someone.

Raaj was the Grand Master of the Grand Council but in the four years Yron had been Raaj's maiggii, no one had ever sought out his Master here in the valley where they lived. In fact, Yron couldn't remember of a single time when any member of royalty contacted Master Raaj outside of the Grand Council chambers.

Yron searched the clothing of the courier for a message but found nothing. Yron knew it wouldn't be right to leave the body here, so he marked the location and hid it under some brush that stood along the edge of the clearing.

He needed to get back to the first rider. Yron knew that saving the other rider's life would be very important to Raaj. Sneaking along the edge of the clearing where the shadows from the trees provided protection, Yron made his way unnoticed to where the other rider lie.

From his vantage point under the tree, Yron could see Raaj was still defending the clearing from the invading Hawkriders. He would have to wait until sundown before it would be safe to move the wounded messenger. While Yron knew a couple of healing spells, the wounds caused by the arrows were beyond his ability to mend. Raaj would need to heal these wounds.

After checking on the messenger under the tree, Yron headed back to the homestead. He would need a cart to transport the injured rider. With the help of Raaj's manservant, Maw, Yron hitched the cart to one of the horses in the stables and together the two men headed out to fetch the wounded rider.

Tonight, the moons would rise late. If they were going to fetch the rider while it was still dark, they needed to move now. Arriving at the tree where the rider was hidden, Yron and the manservant slid a blanket under the messenger and lifted him into the cart. The rider couldn't be more than seventeen-years-old. Once in the barn, Maw helped Yron clear a place for the messenger to rest until Raaj arrived. The only thing they could do for the wounded King's messenger was to make him as comfortable as possible.

"We are safe for now," Raaj announced as he entered the barn a few moments later. "I suspect they will be back tomorrow, though."

Running his fingers through his short salt and pepper hair with concern, Raaj turned his attention to the wounded messenger. The rider had been lucky; none of the arrows had penetrated any vital organs, but it would take a few days for his wounds to heal completely, even with magical aid.

Yron watched as Raaj carefully dug the arrows out of the rider's back and calf, listening carefully to the chant Raaj was using. Yron focused on memorizing the words and cadence of the spell. Casting this healing spell would be easier because there were no hand gestures; the caster only places their hands on the wound. When the healing spell was completed, Raaj motioned to Yron that it was time to talk. Yron followed Raaj out of the barn. He knew that Raaj would want the report that the other rider had died and was hidden under the brush near the clearing.

As Yron told Raaj about the other rider, which carried the markings of Yemenor, Raaj shook his head, "That is too bad. This is not something I want to tell the king." The tone of his voice told Yron this was not a time to ask questions.

"We will need to decide what to do about the Hawkriders. It is apparent by their persistence that they will be back in the morning," Raaj declared.

"You stay here with this young servant, and I will be back in the morning," Raaj continued. Once Yron understood, Raaj left the barn.

This is going to be a long night, Yron thought as he placed a chair in the barn so he would be able to watch over the messenger while he slept. In the corner a small distance away, Ky, Yron's devoted half coyote mutt Familiar, lay on a small bed of hay. Yron could hear the even breathing of his sleeping dog as he sat pondering all that had happened.
Chapter 2

As the early morning sun rays stretched through the cracks in the siding, Yron placed his arm over his eyes to shield them. He tried to clear his mind from the deep slumber that he was experiencing, his mind racing to determine the meaning of the dream he had just experienced. The more he focused on the events of his dream, the more he came to understand that the memories he was dealing with were not a dream but the reality of the previous day's events.

Yron's internal discussion of dream versus reality was interrupted by the sounds of an approaching horse that hadn't caught Ky's attention. Interesting, Yron thought, normally Ky is the one that draws my attention to unexpected noises. Yron got out of the chair he had been sleeping in to get a better view of the approaching rider. Looking between the cracks in the barn wall, he could see it was Maw coming down the road that approached the homestead.

The horse was exhausted; it stumbled as it entered the courtyard, scattering chickens that cackled their annoyance at being interrupted from their morning routine. As the horse came to an abrupt stop, the road dust clouded and drifted over the entire courtyard. Yron watched as the rider dropped from his horse to the ground.

"Master Raajanaar!" Maw shouted. "Master Raajanaar! Master Raajanaar!" With each cry, Maw's voice became more desperate. He ran to the small house in the middle of the clearing and pounded on the door. Grabbing the handle, he attempted to force the door open. Yanking frantically on the door, Maw continued to shout for Raaj. The more he tried to open the door, the more frantic he became. Exhausted, he collapsed, dropping to his knees. He shouted for the Master again and again, looking for someone... anyone... anything... something.

The snow-chilled northern wind sliced through the walls of the barn and gusted against Yron's thin body. Yron grabbed his jacket, wrapping it tightly around his chest and he slipped on his pants, tying them at his waist.

Before dropping from the loft onto the main floor of the stable, Yron checked on the wounded messenger. All was well, so he lifted the barn door and dragged it open. Yron headed out of the stable to address the desperate man. Turning, the Master's manservant begged Yron to tell him where Raaj had gone,

"King Timon's son, there are people that are trying to kill him," the manservant finally shouted to get Yron's attention. "The Master sent me out last night to scout beyond the forest to see what I could learn about the Hawkriders."

"The Master knows," Yron replied with a youthful superior attitude. "I haven't seen the Master since last night."

As Yron headed back into the barn, he noticed that the young messenger was no longer resting on the straw bed. Ky, knowing what his master was searching for, lifted his head and looked toward the small door in the back of the barn, which was slightly ajar.

Yron headed toward the open door. As Yron peered outside, he could see the young messenger heading toward the clearing where Raaj had battled the Hawkriders. He healed fast, Yron thought. I wonder where he is going, Yron questioned himself in a whisper.

Hiding in the shadows, Yron followed the young messenger as he headed toward the knoll where Raaj had defended the valley from the attacks from above. The messenger was wearing a leather shirt and pants. He must be a squire to some nobleman, Yron thought. Normally, squires don't travel far from their masters. He must be looking for the other rider, Yron decided. Perhaps the other rider was more than a courier... perhaps one of the sons of one of the king's knights? He questioned to himself.

On the far side of the courtyard, all had calmed down. The chickens were quietly harvesting seeds that lay next to the haystacks encircling the courtyard. The exhausted bay horse was nearby grazing on the green grass that grew near the water trough. Limping on its right rear leg, it lifted the sore leg slightly as it grazed.

Scanning the courtyard, the young messenger took notice of Yron following him. It was then that Yron realized he had underestimated the lad. Because he wasn't using his shadow skills, he had been spotted. That was stupid, Yron thought to himself.

"Where is Master Raajanaar?" the young lad questioned.

Considering his options, Yron decided it was best just to step out and greet the young rider.

"Where is Master Raajanaar?" the lad asked again.

Yron approached the young rider without answering.

"WHERE is Master Raajanaar? Tell me now! Are you deaf? Where is he?" the lad became more insistent.

The young rider looked around, searching for the old Master of the homestead as he rushed toward Yron. Grabbing him by the shirt, the lad began to shake Yron and shout in his face, "WHERE IS YOUR MASTER?"

The sudden movement that followed caused even the bay horse to snap its head up just in time to see what was happening. In a split second, the young messenger had landed on his back with Yron's foot pinning him to the ground by the neck.

"Don't move," Yron warned, staring down at the young messenger.

Unable to look away, the messenger stared back into the face of his captor.

"Yron! Let him up," a voice commanded.

Yron looked up to find Master Raajanaar standing a few feet away.

The sudden appearance of Master Raajanaar startled the young messenger almost as much as his unexpected meeting with the ground. On the other hand, Yron had gotten used to the Master appearing and disappearing without being noticed.

Ever since Yron had participated in a cross-training program with the Ranger's Guild, Raaj's sudden appearances didn't startle him as much. The program was designed for wizards' maiggii to learn skills from the rangers, which taught them survival skills; in return the wizards taught the rangers' maiggii some basic magic like Warmth, Light, Magical Traps and Alert spells.

Yron removed his foot from the messenger's throat somewhat reluctantly.

"They are gone," Raaj explained, referring to the Hawkriders, "But I do not expect them to be gone for long."

Turning toward the Master, Yron started to speak, but before he could utter a word, Raaj ordered him to be silent with a glance. Yron had learned the secret unspoken wizard's language years ago – one of the privileges he was entitled to as Raaj's maiggii.

Using facial expressions – the width of an eye opening, the direction one may look, lip movements, or facial muscle movements – all were a part of an unspoken Wizard-Speak language. Wizards could send short messages to each other as long as they were within eyesight. This provided the ability to speak to each other without anyone else being aware.

The language was developed so wizards could communicate with each other without casting a spell. Casting a Mind Talk spell or other magical communication spells, that required the wizard to chant, eliminated secrecy, as the wizard is heard chanting the spell. Thus, over time, the wizards developed a language known only by themselves and taught only to their maiggii, which ensured its continued secrecy.

Scrambling to his feet, the messenger moved menacingly toward Yron, "You got the jump on me. That will never happen again."

"We don't have time for this," Master Raaj stated as he turned toward the homestead, the small building that had two windows on the front and a well-worn door off to the left. Two massive trees grew on each end; the trees may have been a good thought when they were planted years ago but now each tree rubbed tightly against the homestead's walls. If the walls had ever been painted, there was no sign of it now and even before you could see the wisp of smoke trailing lazily from the chimney, you could smell it.

When Raaj turned his back to head toward the homestead, the messenger feinted as though he was going to strike Yron, trying to make him flinch and intimidate Yron. Yron smiled, turned and followed Raaj confidently. The messenger had to run to catch up.

"We need to talk," the Master stated to the young man without looking back.

"Yes, we do," the messenger stated with an air of disrespect for Yron, "but we don't need your servant."

"Maiggii!" Master Raajanaar corrected. "Not servant. Where I go, he goes." Raaj chose not to explain that, as his maiggii, Yron would one day take Raaj's position and all his responsibilities but the significance of Yron's presence was heavily implied.

Nonetheless, the messenger began to protest.

"No exceptions," the Master raised his hand to silence the messenger.

The homestead door opened of its own accord as the Master approached and all three men entered. Yron was used to the untidy appearance of Raaj's abode but he could tell the messenger was visibly taken aback by the chaos. Papers, bottles, rock pieces, dried plants, and flower petals were scattered everywhere. A thin layer of smoke hugged the ceiling. Plant leaves and flowers hung from drying racks and crucibles, with crushed minerals, were scattered on tables that took up the entire room.

A small path snaked through the maze of tables. On the wall, shelves were stacked with bottles, some two and three high, some filled with colored liquids and others with clear liquids and peculiar objects floating in them. Sticks supported several of the shelves, keeping the weight of the bottles from causing the shelves to collapse.

On a small round table, in the corner by the fireplace, was a black bowl. In the center of the bowl, a nearly invisible flame flickered so slowly that it appeared not to be moving at all. The flame continued to burn even though the bowl seemed to contain nothing to fuel it.

Near the fireplace on the dirt floor, a patch of dirt cleared of debris extended an invitation for the three men. The Master motioned for the two to sit. Yron and the messenger sat down on opposite sides of the opening, each still wary after the other's behavior. As Raaj approached, Yron read from the expressions on his face that his disagreement with the messenger was now over. Sighing, Yron moved next to the rider. The rider glanced at Yron with an obvious look of disdain as Raaj sat down and settled his gaze on the messenger.

"All right, Darmuth, what happened?"

The messenger looked at Raaj, then back to Yron, "Not with him here. Perhaps we can go outside and talk while your servant fixes us something to eat."

Raajanaar's glance again warned Yron to be silent. Yron understood. "Darmuth, you have been assigned a great responsibility, and I would assume that it did not include you to be disrespectful to me or my maiggii. With that said and understood, we will attribute your indifference to your youth."

Darmuth bowed his head submissively. Turning to Yron, he reluctantly muttered, "Excuse my youthfulness."

Before Yron could comment, Raajanaar's facial expressions explained to Yron that Darmuth's words were the best he could expect for an apology. The conversation so far, between Darmuth and Raaj, had made it clear to Yron that the young rider was much more than he seemed to be.

The winds gusted against the tightly corked walls of the homestead and filled the air with sound. Occasionally, the sound of the trees rubbing against the old homestead drowned out the gusting wind.

Raajanaar was the first to speak. "Darmuth, you are here for a reason."

"Yes," Darmuth whispered, "Prince Purstar was wounded in a battle at Ranker Thor. It is a mortal wound. A Pretender wielding an ancient Inset sword attacked him from behind. I was sent to get you. Our Healer believes she can keep Prince Purstar alive until you arrive, but we must make haste. My father is requesting you to cast the Inset spell on my brother."

Darmuth's words hung in the air. It had been over seven hundred years since the Inset Spell had been cast on anyone other than a wizard. The practice of casting an Inset spell on a warrior was part of the forbidden magic ways that were no longer practiced in this world.

Raajanaar gazed toward the ceiling and stroked his beard, thinking to himself.

Even if he wants to help, there isn't time, Yron thought. Raaj doesn't have any plithim crystals.

Yron knew what Raajanaar was thinking. King Timon of Yemenor was one of Raaj's dearest and most trusted friends and it would be hard for Raaj not to grant him this request. Unfortunately, they had used the last of the plithim essence on the wizard from Yormar at the last Grand Council meeting. If they were going to make more, the plithim crystals would have to be mined by either Raaj or himself, as they were the only wizards to know the secrets of the Inset.

Of course, crystallized plithim was hard to find. On occasion, it could be found on the very top of a vein of plithim ore. Once located, the crystals had to be magically mined. They could then be heated and magically forged into a single crystal, by the use of an Earth-Flame, before being crushed into plithim essence. This could only be done during a blue moon, which happens only when a month has two full moons. The last blue moon was three months ago – the next one wouldn't occur for another two years.

The Earth-Flame is a fire elemental that must be captured by a wizard immediately after being ordained a wizard or they lose the ability to have one. To capture the elemental, the young wizard must descend into the Great Labyrinths and enter the Channel of Life.

Darmuth broke the silence, "My father said you would know what that meant."

Master Raajanaar nodded, still stroking the two braided columns of his beard. It would take him months to mine enough plithim crystals, even if he paid the dwarfs to do the mining. Two years ago, when the dwarfs had unearthed a large vein in the mountains above his homestead, Raajanaar discovered the rare crystals needed to make plithim essence in small cavities that occasionally formed on the top of a plithim ore vein.

Shortly after the discovery of the vein, Raajanaar dismissed the dwarfs because he claimed he could no longer afford to pay them for their mining services. Yron had begged him not to let the miners go but Raaj had no choice. Raaj had attempted to explain to Yron, on several occasions, it was the Grand Council that was opposed to further development of new plithim mines and that the dwarf's dismissal was unfortunate but necessary.

Without the dwarfs mining the plithim ore in the mountains above the homestead, Raaj hadn't been able to access any more crystals to make into plithim essence. Sure, the dwarfs had been expensive, Yron thought, but if Raaj had allowed him to continue to make rings of warmth, wands of light, broaches of charisma, and other magical baubles to sell to the magical shops found in the magic districts of most major cities, they would have had plenty of money to pay the dwarfs to continue to mine the ore.

Raaj never shared with anyone – but Yron – the presence of the crystals in the mountains above their homestead. The knowledge of the existence of plithim crystals was something that less than a handful of people even knew about. After the death of Grand Master Glemmic, Raaj was the only person on Carbynarah to know how to use the crystals. That was until Raaj shared with Yron the knowledge of how the tiny crystals were used in the casting of the Inset spell. In time, Raaj had planned on finding other uses for plithim essence but, for now, the Inset was the only known use.

The "old" Inset spell captured a portion of the wizard's celest (the spirit or life's essence that resides within an individual) that had cast the spell and trapped it within the Inset item, only to be released when the item was destroyed. Depending on the strength of the Inset, the caster using the "old" Inset spell could fall into a coma after casting the spell. The "new" Inset spell relied on the magic from the crystals of the plithim ore; therefore, there was no physical effect on the caster. This change was important because the celest – soul or life essence - is sacred. It is the celest that leaves the body and travels to reside in heaven.

Raajanaar, former Grand Master Glemmic, and now Yron were the only ones who knew how to cast the "new" Inset spell; and only Raajanaar and Master Glemmic had ever actually cast it on a human. Yron had witnessed the casting of the spell and with that knowledge, Raaj was sure Yron would be able to cast the spell if he had the elements needed.

Only when it was discovered, after the Shadow Wars, that Lord Malkanard had enslaved many of the rulers of the Kingdoms by capturing their celests and forcing them to go against their free will and align their kingdoms with his cause, did the Wizard's Guild spend the resources necessary to change the way the Inset spell was cast.

The Inset, on the other hand, which consisted of the individual's abilities and knowledge – including everything from walking, to the use of a sword, to the knowledge of magic – could be transferred to create a magical item which others could use.

The difficulty of collecting the plithim essence, and the life of solitude Raaj had led caused him to wonder once again, Did I make a mistake? Should I have forgone the research of the Inset spells and made a business out of forging Insets like his Master had done?

Raaj's thoughts were interrupted when Darmuth again broke the silence, "Master, we need to be leaving."

Yron knew his Master's thoughts. Looking at Raaj and using his wizard-speech, he suggested, Master, we can try the Inset Capture spell I have been working on.

Raaj responded quickly and forcefully, so much so, that even Darmuth noticed the expressions on his face. Using it on rats, squirrels and birds is much different than on a human, let alone a Prince.

Turning toward Darmuth, Yron stated, "We have no plithim essence from which we can forge the Inset. There is nothing we can do."

Darmuth just looked at them. It was obvious to him that the two wizards had just had a disagreement but were afraid to voice it aloud. Wizards, he thought to himself, even when they live together, they can't get along.

Yron attempted again to convince Raaj to try his Inset Capture spell. What if we explained the situation and asked Prince Purstar's father? Yron continued, using wizard-speech.

Raaj cut him off by turning away from him and facing Darmuth, "We don't have the ingredients we need. We can't get them in time. I am sorry. There is nothing we can do."

"But, Master..." Yron pleaded, this time vocally.

Raaj cut him off. "There is nothing we can do."

"He is my brother." Darmuth begged, "He is my brother. You can't let it end like this."

Raaj stood and walked out the door. Yron and Darmuth stared at each other in silence. A wave of guilt washed over Yron. I should have known better, he thought. Raaj is right; I never look to see the whole picture before I react.

"I am sorry for knocking you to the ground out there," Yron whispered. "I know what it is like to lose a brother."
Chapter 3

Once the door had closed behind Raaj, Yron began to rethink whether it was time to leave Raaj and the homestead. He had heard of other maiggii that had left their Masters. As he thought about it, Yron couldn't think of anything he did that seemed to be of any value to Raaj or earn any of his respect; except fetch wood or feed the chickens.

I just can't do anything right, Yron thought. Maybe at the next Mascar, I should see if I can find a new master to train me in wizardry. Yes! He reflected, That is what I will do. I will bide my time and find a new master at the next Mascar, maybe one from a different Guild. But to do that, Yron knew that he would need to move to the far south.

Yron's mind continued to jump from topic to topic as he sat staring into the flames. Damn, if Raaj weren't so stubborn, the dwarfs would still be mining in the plithim mines. I am willing to forge baubles to earn money to pay the dwarfs. Yron's mind raced on. Didn't I promise Raaj that I would not neglect my studies and would do the forging only at night? But, Noooo! That wasn't good enough for him. He ended the conversation – if you could call it that – by telling me it was a waste of my time. Even in winning, I disappointed him, Yron recounted. I can't do anything right in his sight. Never have!

"I am good at making baubles," Yron mumbled to himself. "In fact, I like making them. After all, I won five of the six bauble competitions at the first Mascar that Raaj took me to. I was even crowned the champion at the Wizard's Fair."

During the two-week ride home from the Mascar, Raaj only spoke to me once, Yron remembered. "A competition for fools," he had said. "Dignify yourself, boy. Get rid of those ribbons. I never want to see them again."

That was the last Mascar in which Yron competed. The next Mascar that Raaj took Yron to, he made the mistake of asking his Master about competing in the Wizard's Fair. Raaj was so mad that Yron was not allowed to leave their campsite for most of their time at the Mascar.

The door opened, catching Yron off guard and Raaj entered.

Raaj looked around the room. Darmuth was lying on the floor, the exhaustion of his ride had overwhelmed him; the warmth of the fire relaxed his weary body and helped him to fall asleep. Raaj noticed that Yron had not moved since he had left, his eyes still focused on the flickering flames. Raaj knew he was angry and frustrated. He knew if he didn't give Yron more freedom to grow, he would lose him. The thought of losing Yron scared Raaj. Yron had become like a son to him. If he left, he would miss him.

It wasn't just that Raaj had spent hundreds of years looking for the right maiggii. He had hand-picked Yron for a purpose, of which, even Yron was not aware. Someday, Yron would replace him and take over his responsibilities, but most importantly, Yron was to carry forward the knowledge of the forbidden magic.

As Raaj reflected on his experiences teaching Yron, he realized just how easily he forgot that this sixteen-year-old boy had only four years of maiggii training. A simple lesson almost always turned into an in-depth conversation about the most complex of magical principles. An hour discussion with his young maiggii was more mentally stimulating than a marathon debate from one of the Wizards' Guild meetings. Raaj had to admit, even to himself, that Yron was brilliant.

The boy's Inset Capture spell was incredibly insightful. It was perhaps, the most inventive spell created in the last five generations of Grand Masters. Last year at the Mascar, Raaj had suggested to the Guild members present the possibility of researching such a spell, volunteering to his contemporaries that he would oversee the research if they would allow his maiggii to lead the research team.

The laughter of his fellow wizards had embarrassed him. They mocked and teased him. The pain of their harsh words still echoed in his heart. In general, they believed a spell like the one which he suggested would take a team of wizards and their maiggii a century to develop, and they weren't willing to expend the time or resources.

As Raaj looked at each of the members of the Guild that day, he knew it wasn't time. He didn't dare tell them his maiggii had successfully developed the spell and that, even more impressively, in his pocket was the remarkable results, a box that contained the Inset of a squirrel. Next year he would schedule the time during their annual meeting to have Yron demonstrate his work on the Inset Capture spell.

While it was hard for him to admit, he was excited for the members of the Wizard Council to come to the realization of just how brilliant his maiggii was. He was sure that, as Yron explained his Inset Capture spell to them, they too would realize that Yron was the greatest mind of this generation; even smarter than Raaj himself.

Just hearing himself say such a thing about his young maiggii caused him to reflect on their last conversation. He had been wrong to deny Yron's request so hastily.

But how can I tell Yron that I was wrong and that we should at least try to use the Inset Capture spell on Prince Purstar? Looking at Yron, he wanted to say as much, but he couldn't find the words. Before he had a chance to try, Darmuth started to move, and Raaj looked over to check on him. He knew he needed to say something, but how? After all, he was the Grand Master of the Wizards' Guild.

Seconds later, Yron looked up, staring at the mentor that had given him so much. How can I convince Raaj to try my new spell? After all, every spell needs to have its first human trial. Turning the question over in his mind as he focused on Raaj's clinched, strong upper jaw, he finally came to the realization; I can't.

Their eyes locked and not a word was said. Finally, Raaj's face spoke, It is time to leave. Get ready. We will let Darmuth sleep as we prepare. Find him a new horse; his will never carry him in its current condition.

Yron stood and headed for the door. Damn Raaj, he thought, Damn, damn him. As he reached for the door, he stared back at Raaj's face one last time. He didn't know when he would tell him that he was leaving, but he had decided he was going to.

Yron stopped suddenly at the phrase that silently crossed his Master's face. "What?" Yron asked, too taken aback to believe what he had seen.

Raaj repeated his statement with a sparkle in his eyes, "I said, pack the ingredients for the Inset Capture spell." As Yron stood there, he gritted his teeth together to stop the tears that had started to well up in his eyes. When it became too much to hold back, he looked away. The thrill of trying out his spell again struck him and he had to bite his tongue to keep from smiling. Slowly looking back at Raaj, he nodded his head and headed out the door.

Raaj watched Yron from the window. It amused him to see Yron attempt to repress his excitement as he walked toward the stable. He had done the right thing, he knew it. He could no longer treat Yron as his apprentice. In the fullest sense of the word, Yron was a maiggii, the future Grand Master Yron. He wasn't aware of what all Yron's future would hold, but Raaj knew the boy could become the greatest wizard since Lord Malkanard and perhaps of all time.

Raaj knew it was time to teach Yron more like his equal and less like his Raaj knew it was time to teach Yron more like his equal and less like his student. He was no longer the little boy he had met years ago. He was wrong, and the Grand Council was right; Yron needed to take his place, as not only the maiggii of the Grand Master of the Wizards' Guild and the Grand Master of the Grand Council but as the Burya Dai Yindor, as well. This process would be new to Raaj. He turned from the window and thought to himself; Who knows, I may learn a thing or two from this young maiggii.

Yron could feel his Master's eyes follow him as he walked away, so he used all his inner strength to repress his excitement. He didn't want to show any enthusiasm; remembering Raaj's repeated teachings: "A wizard is not supposed to show emotions as others do." "Wizards are more dignified." Aw, to heck with it, he thought. Looking over his shoulder to see if Raaj was still watching, he jumped in the air, raised both hands high above his head, and started to run for the stable.

From his bedroom, Raajanaar watched Yron sprinting for the stable. He smiled. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt that much excitement.

"Your Majesty, have you heard any news about Darmuth?"

"No, Captain Ranth, we only know he passed through Yemenor nine days ago," King Timon responded, attempting to look unaffected. Inside, the fears of his heart raged out of control. He should have returned by now. It is only an eight-day ride. Has he been captured? Rumors of marauding bands of Shakarine behind the front lines had been circulating for weeks.

King Timon was still struggling to understand how the Shakarine army had gotten onto the High Plains. Perhaps when the ranger arrives I will learn more, he thought. Except for parts of the southern portion of the High Plains where the land contour slopes down to meet the land below, the High Plains are protected by three to four hundred high, sheer cliffs on the other three sides.

Being able to engage the Shakarine army in battle before they made it through the northern mountains, the rock formations at Ranker Thor would provide King Timon with a distinct advantage and a perfect place to set up his defenses. The sheer walls, fifty feet in height on each side of the raven, which the Shakarine would have to pass through to reach the grass lands that made up most of the High Plains, allowed King Timon and his archers a distinct advantage. They could attack the Shakarine without taking much loss.

King Timon knew he had been lucky. It was only by accident that a training exercise for one of the scouting parties had stumbled onto the Shakarine forces sneaking through the Northern Mountain Range in time to allow him to march his army to Ranker Thor before the enemy arrived. Now he had the Shakarine pinned down.

This war, what could I have done to stop it? The King's thoughts were interrupted as another of his Lords entered the tent. "Lord Myningar, what is the news?" he asked eagerly.

"Your Majesty, the troops are holding on Back Top and Little Side. We have sent archers up on the valley walls to reinforce them. Several teams of scouts are scouting along the rim of the valley, making sure the Shakarine aren't trying to scale the walls. With enough archers, we can hold off the Shakarine until winter, when their supply lines will be cut off by the weather in the mountains. In the valley, the men are digging trenches, building barricades, and chopping down trees to create obstacles for the advancing armies."

"Myningar, have we discovered anything new about the Pretender Assassin? Do we know if it is true that he fled south through the High Plains?" the King questioned.

"Yes, Your Majesty," Myningar continued, "Thayer, the ranger from Jamour, was able to find and follow the trail of a lone traveler who was moving light and fast. After two weeks, Thayer turned back when the trail turned cold. He reported that the traveler was riding what appeared to be a Payleen."

"It had to be a wizard!" the King said, vocalizing what everyone else had on their mind. He knew that only the Wizards' Guild and the Warteen rode the Payleen. He continued, "I have heard that the Warteen also use Payleen but other than one contact by a Warteen ambassador and her contingent over one hundred and fifty years ago, we've had no contact with the women barbarians from the south." Almost as an afterthought, King Timon continued, "Three thousand miles is a long way to travel for a Warteen assassination attempt."

All the men in the room nodded in agreement. "When Master Raajanaar arrives, we will need to discuss this with him." Turning to Captain Ranth, the King continued, "Will you arrange for Thayer to be with us when we talk to Master Raajanaar?"

Yron grabbed his traveling pack. He opened it to make sure all the travel potions, as well as the ingredients for other spells they may need, were stored correctly. Now I need to get the ingredients for the Inset Capture spell, he thought. I probably should take three sets and place one set in each of our packs. The ingredients were simple; it was the timing and blending them in the right portions that made the spell difficult.

Yron knew he didn't have a capture box big enough for a human Inset, but he could build it as they traveled toward Yemenor. Gathering the koa wood for the capture box, Yron moved back and forth between the barn and the packhorses, making sure each item was loaded and securely stored.

Raaj shuffled back and forth between the homestead and the packhorses carrying the items he needed. Yron was too busy getting ready to notice that Raaj had teleported to his office at the Grand Council to get additional items he would need. It was only when Yron saw his Master carrying his weapons and placing them on his pack horse that he realized Raaj had been gone.

As Yron carefully placed the hardwood, that made the Inset capture box possible, onto the packhorses, he remembered his excitement when he discovered that the wood used to feed the fire elemental would also fuse with the plithim lining. The koa hardwood, native to the tropical region of the Kingdom south of the High Plains, was the key to creating the box that hosts the Inset.

For some reason, fusing with the koa changed the plithim's magical properties; thus, preventing the living essence of the Inset from escaping or attempting to join with the plithim metal itself. From his research, Yron discovered that if he used crushed and magically enhanced crystals before being forged with the ore, he could create a lining for the koa box which was the foundation of the new Inset Capture spell.

It was the advances made years ago, with the new Inset spell, and the use of Plithim Essence, that made the Inset Capture spell possible. With the new Inset spell, the Inset no longer attached itself to the plithim but instead, it merged with the plithim. As Yron researched the development of the new Inset spell, he discovered that the reason the wizards stopped using the ancient spell and developed a newer version, was the side effect of falling into a coma until they could regain strength.

Additionally, Yron discovered that he could magically enhance the crystals without turning them into essence. By doing so, his Capture spell didn't require a double-blue moon that the ancient Inset spell did.

Yron didn't fully understand why the koa caused the plithim to change and instead of absorbing the Inset, it acted as a shield, preventing the Inset from penetrating or attaching to the plithim. Thus, when he lined the koa box with plithim, the Inset became trapped inside the box and didn't become the Inset item.

Yron needed to remember to pack some koa logs for the Earth-Flame as well. He knew Raaj would be resistant to bringing his flame, but there was no choice – the plithim liner for the capture box still needed forging, and doing it here would add three days to the time before they could leave.

Yron's thoughts were interrupted when he heard the door open. Raaj was standing in the doorway, looking out over the mountain meadow. He sounded a low, even-pitched whistle, calling Verser, his Payleen stallion. Raaj had finished his packing and was ready to leave.

Grazing next to Yron, Tristina's ears pricked up as she heard Verser respond. Yron ran his hand through Tristina's mane, remembering the first time he'd met his own Payleen. She had been a tiny filly and her white coat had shown none of the color or markings that it would take on when she matured. Indeed, there had been no indication that she would have two black socks on her front feet or the black streak down her nose.

In the distance, the sound of Verser's neighing echoed off the rocky cliffs that lined the path to the plithim mines. As he crested the knoll, Verser shook his head, his long gray mane splashing down his neck and across his shoulders. Arriving at Raaj's side, he nestled his nose in Raaj's chest by his pocket, in search of the treat he knew Raaj had for him.

"We will leave in the morning," Raaj indicated to Yron. "The young Prince needs to rest. How is his horse?"

"The arrow wounds have gotten infected. It won't be able to carry weight for a couple of weeks," Yron responded. "The Prince will need to ride one of the other horses."

Raaj just nodded as he walked away, "You will need to get the bay saddled and ready in the morning."

Yron finished putting all the supplies they would need for the journey into saddle packs for easy loading onto the horses in the morning. He then double-checked all the supplies for the Inset capture box as well, knowing there would be no way to find the ingredients he would need on the trail.

The capture box had its own dilemma. Yron knew he had never been able to keep a living Inset contained within the box for more than a month. For some reason, the plithim lining lost its effectiveness at holding the Inset over time; Yron reasoned that the Inset could only be separated from the body for a short period before it died, thus the need to be transferred into an Inset item.

The proposed solution for Prince Purstar was only temporary. They must find the essence quickly. Raaj would need it to cast the new Inset spell. Unless Yron could figure out how to hold the Inset in the box longer, they only had a month to cast the actual Inset spell.

Yron was aware that Raaj understood the time limitations of the Inset Capture box. These concerns had to be on Raaj's mind as well.

Yron could see that Raaj was deep in thought. "Master, is there anything I can do for you?" Yron questioned.

"No, no," Raaj muttered as he continued to ponder. How are we going to get enough plithim essence to forge the Inset item and cast the spell? And what can we do about the lack of a blue moon? Raaj questioned over and over in his mind.

Just then Tristina announced it was time to be fed. As Yron placed feed into her feed bag, he stroked her mane. Yron's thoughts about the free-nature spirit of the Payleen flooded his mind. He wondered why the Payleen wouldn't allow being led by a simple bridle like other horses. When ridden, how did the Payleen have the natural traits to be guided by a combination of knee touches or weight shifts by the rider?

These natural traits allow the rider to have his hands free, something that Yron often took full advantage of when practicing magic on long journeys. When Verser began to wander away from Raaj and entered the courtyard, Yron grabbed a Tra – a long, thin piece of leather that was lain across a Payleen's neck to guide it – and led Verser to his trough.

One drawback to the Payleen was that they wouldn't eat or drink from a feedbag or trough another animal had used. Yron grabbed Verser's bucket of water and filled his trough and his grain bucket, placing the bucket next to the trough and left the Payleen alone to eat.

Once he had everything prepared, Yron returned to the homestead. He needed to talk to Raaj about the Earth-Flame. As he entered, he was surprised to see Raaj was still busy packing for the journey. Yron could see that Raaj was preparing a separate travel pack for Darmuth and knew Darmuth would appreciate it. Not many people were lucky enough to enjoy the herbs and spices that were common among the staple foods for wizards.

Yron was still standing in the doorway when Raaj asked him what he wanted. "We need to take the Earth-Flame, Master," Yron stated. "You will need it to forge the plithim for the capture box liner."

"I am packing it now," Raaj interrupted before Yron could begin his argument as to why they needed to bring it.

Yron looked around. The Earth-Flame was still in its bowl in the corner of the room. Next to the bowl, was a jar made of clear onyx crystal that was used to transport the elemental. Raaj carefully slid the Earth-Flame into the onyx jar and then sprinkled koa shavings over the flame, and as he did so, it flashed in color. The wizard smiled as he placed the jar into a leather pouch.

Darmuth wondered why Raaj didn't put a lid on the jar. It is dangerous to carry an open flame like that, he thought. If he had asked anyone, they would have explained that by placing a lid on the jar, the flame would eventually burn all the air and the elemental would die.

Even though the Earth-Flame was not his, Yron took great joy in watching it sparkle with color at the excitement of being fed koa instead of shavings from regular trees. Someday, Yron thought, Someday, I will be able to journey to Gohurst to capture my fire elemental. He had heard stories from members of the Forgers' Guild regarding their exploits capturing fire elementals. He also knew that to get an Earth-Flame large enough to forge magical items, he would need to go deeper into Gohurst and convince one of the older fire elementals to join him in his efforts in the surface world.

Yron would need his own Earth-Flame if he had any plans to forge an Inset item himself. To do this, Yron must wait for Raaj to decide that it was time and then get permission from the council of the Wizards' Guild, as well as the Forgers' Guild.

Yron excused himself and walked back to the stable. He had not expected Raaj to give in so easily. Wizards don't like to travel with such powerful magical items for fear of losing them or having them stolen. Especially magical items like an Earth-Flame because once the wizard captures a fire elemental, he is never allowed to return to get a second one.

Double-checking his gear one last time, Yron made certain everything was laid out before climbing the ladder to the loft. Ky was lying on his bed and begrudgingly moved to the side of the bed as Yron nudged him aside with his knee so he could lay down beside him to rest.

# Chapter 4

The first two waves of Shakarine attackers had been forced back by the three legions of archers posted along the ravine walls. Thousands of dead and wounded Shakarine soldiers lay scattered across the valley floor.

The strategy of whittling down the advancing Shakarine soldiers with volley after volley of arrows as they approached the front lines of Yemenite soldiers was successful. Only a few Shakarine soldiers were ever able to get close enough to skirmish with the Yemenor foot soldiers.

Yemenor archers carried four different types of bows to war with them. The longbows were used to attack enemy troops that were over three hundred yards away. While the longbow was not accurate, when fired in volleys they could take out a significant portion of enemy troops before they were ready to charge. Because of the height of the valley walls, the archers firing longbows from the cliffs could strike the enemy forces four hundred and fifty yards away. The arrows from the longbow were heavier and could pass through one body and enter the soldier that was standing behind the initial victim.

The medium-bow was a bow used by archers while riding their horses. King Timon had it redesigned to be used by foot archers as well. These bows were used to attack the enemy troops as they approached the front line of his army. The accuracy of the medium-bow allowed the archer to aim at an individual enemy soldier. While the arrow from the medium-bow may be deflected by the armor of the approaching soldier, it still shakes the confidence of the soldier and makes them feel vulnerable, especially if they were stepping over their dead or wounded soldiers. Additionally, the medium-bow was effective in thinning down the ranks of the approaching troops.

The short-bow was the last line of defense before the enemy soldiers reached the battle line. With the short-bow, the archers could aim at the target, striking any exposed section of the enemy's body. Lastly, the crossbow was very accurate and used in close combat, allowing the archer to shoot the enemy while engaging with the foot soldiers.

From the valley walls, King Timon could see the enemy preparing for another attack. They were standing just outside of medium-bow range. King Timon thought about using the longbows to attack the Shakarine, but with the success of the medium-bows, he decided to wait until the Shakarine advanced so he could engage them with the more accurate bows. If the enemy archers could reach the archers on top of the canyon rim with their longbows, King Timon would have his troops fire their longbows as the enemy was staging for their next attack.

From behind the King's position, the catapults began to fire on the enemy troops. Today, the catapults were throwing heavier rocks than usual. While the intent of the catapults was to kill enemy troops, King Timon also used the rocks and dead bodies of the Shakarine as obstacles. He knew that the more the dead bodies and rocks that littered the battle area, the harder it would be for the enemy troops to cross over and through them to get to his foot soldiers.

The longer it took the Shakarine troops to reach the battle lines, the more enemy troops could be killed by the archers. King Timon also knew that if the enemy had to attack while standing on their dead comrades, their morale would drop. With his troops outnumbered, he had to do everything he could to slow down or stop the Shakarine attacks.

Fortunately, reinforcements were due to arrive at any time. King Timon looked back over the landscape toward his home, hoping to see the dust cloud of approaching troops. He heard trumpets indicating the enemy was preparing to charge.

"Medium-bows, prepare to fire," the King ordered. As the enemy troops came within range of the bows, the sky was filled with arrows. In the distance, the King watched as the first of the oncoming Shakarine began to fall to the ground.

By the time Raaj awoke, Yron had the packhorses loaded. He had also prepared a small breakfast of warmed Eleren bread and goat's milk. Darmuth's horse had been fed and was tied to the rail with a lead rope.

For the briefest of moments, the warm room and smell of food cooking reminded Darmuth of home. Darmuth grabbed his blanket and pulled it close. He was waiting to hear his brother preparing for the day in the other room... MY BROTHER, he thought as his throat choked in anguish for his dying brother.

Darmuth rose immediately. Looking around, he could see the clutter of Raaj's humble homestead but no Raaj, no Yron. Grabbing his belongings, he headed for the door, but it resisted his push.

As he turned toward the window, he spotted Raaj standing in the corner looking out the window whispering something. The words Raaj was saying were being sung in some type of rhyme, but Darmuth was unable to understand them.

Upon realizing Darmuth was awake, Raaj stopped his chant and informed Darmuth that Yron had food prepared. He then ordered him, "Go eat."

Darmuth didn't like being ordered around and started to say something but he quickly thought better. His brother needed this wizard. The words of the Lord, Captain Ranth, resonated in his head. Not every provocation requires a response. Sometimes the smartest thing to do is to be silent.

Raaj picked up his pack and headed for the door. Darmuth reached for the door and, as he did so, it opened. Looking back at Raaj, he left the homestead. Wizard-Lock, he thought to himself, why do these wizards have to be so secretive?

As he left, Darmuth could see that Yron had a small fire going and the smells of bastion tea and Eleren bread were distinguishable. As he looked around the courtyard, the packhorses were loaded with supplies and eating from a trough. Off to one side, he saw two other horses separated from the packhorses eating from leather-bound grain sacks that hung from the fence.

His horse was tied to the fence, but his saddle was placed on the bay horse that stood at its side. Alongside his horse stood another bay with his belongings and some provisions strapped onto a pack saddle.

The tea felt good as it swept down his throat with a sweetness in it he didn't recognize. Breaking some bread, he began to eat. The bread had the same sweetness. As Darmuth pondered the mystery, Yron finally spoke. "We need to be going. Finish your drink and grab some bread. You can eat as we ride."

Yron gave a little whistle, and the smaller of the two horses that were eating alone came over to him. Yron fed the Payleen a piece of the bread. It was apparent that this was a treat for the horse by the way the animal eagerly ate.

Yron often wondered why the Payleen would refuse to eat from something that another animal had eaten from yet would eat bread from his hands. Shrugging his shoulders in wonderment, Yron grabbed the feedbag his Payleen was eating from and placed it on one of the packhorses. From the fence, he grasped a strap of leather. It was about five feet long and had a stirrup on each end.

Darmuth almost laughed aloud as Yron asked the horse permission to place the leather stirrup over its shoulder in preparation to being ridden. Behind him, Raaj gave the order, "Mount up, let's go." Had Darmuth not been attempting to find criticism about everything Yron did, he would have noticed that, out of respect to his Payleen, Raaj asked permission to place the stirrup on Verser's back as well.

Yron and Raaj both side mounted their horses and then flipped their leg over the neck of their horse, placing one foot in each stirrup. There was no bridle. Darmuth remembered hearing that wizards control their horses by knee movement, or some other means, so they could keep their hands free in case they needed to cast a spell.

As Yron rode away, the fire in the small fire pit extinguished itself. The packhorses followed, but there was no halter to guide them. Darmuth climbed onto the bay horse with his saddle, grabbed the halter of his horse, and followed. The packhorse with his supplies brought up the rear.

Darmuth galloped to catch up with Yron and Raaj. He noticed that neither of their horses stirred dust from the ground as they stepped on the dry, dusty road. He looked around to confirm that it was only their horses. He thought to himself, It must be a spell but why only on their horses? If you cast a spell to hide hoof prints, wouldn't it be better to hide the hoof prints of the entire party?

They all rode in silence. Yron held a knife in his hands, carving on some wood he had brought with him. As he did so, he sang a tune. Darmuth couldn't recognize the words, but the cadence of the melody seemed familiar. Perhaps he had heard it before. Someday, Darmuth thought, I will have a horse like that, one that's gait is so steady that I could ride it while carving.

Raaj finally broke the silence, "Where can we find your brother?"

"When I left the battlefield encampment, he was in my father's tent," Darmuth explained. "The Healers were keeping him alive."

"Then we go to the battlefield encampment," Raaj stated.

"Here to see the King," Havendar said to the guard as he rode into the King's encampment. Neither guard moved to stop him. Rangers were the special agents of the King. Their movements and whereabouts were not to be questioned. Trained from an early age, rangers learned how to shadow-walk so well that even in an encampment they were hard to track or to follow; in the wilderness it was impossible.

The younger guard looked at his sergeant and muttered, "Trained murderers," he said with disdain.

The sergeant gave him a quick glance, "Thoughts like that should never be uttered, especially around a ranger," he whispered.

The ranger looked back as he headed toward the King's tent. The young, fear-filled guard's heart sunk as he worried the ranger overheard him when he passed.

A wisp of a smile etched its way across the ranger's face after he rode past the guards. He knew that part of the advantage rangers maintained was that people feared them. The smile was short-lived, however, because he had nothing but bad news for the King. The Shakarine were not just looking to pillage the smaller villages in the out-country, this was part of a full-scale invasion.

As Havendar looked around, he knew the enemy forces King Timon's troops were facing outnumbered them at least thirty to one. From the reports he had received, the King would have two or three weeks before the Shakarine's main force would arrive. Even worse was the second message he carried. The reinforcements the King was relying on from King Holben would not be arriving.

As the King's tent came into view, one of a pair of guards standing before it signaled for Havendar to halt. Riding up to the guard, the ranger calmly explained, "I need to see the King." When the guard didn't move, Havendar repeated himself with more force, "The King!"

"Show me your credentials," was the guard's respectful reply.

The ranger's hand slid out from beneath his cloak, revealing a black steel dagger with a white cap on the hilt. Engraved in the cap of the hilt was Havendar's personal crest, which was the same on every weapon he carried.

Each ranger chose their individual crest, which was also woven into a tattoo upon their forearm when they are set apart as rangers of the Guild. The guard inspected Havendar's tattooed forearm and compared it to the part of the tattoo that matched the crest on the blade. "The King is not here; he is on the battlefield. You will find him on the ridge," the guard explained. "I will lead you."

"You will not be able to keep up," Havendar stated as fact. The guard nodded and pointed the way.

"Fire!" King Timon shouted. The catapults had been aimed to launch their loads beyond the advancing army. Instead of the boulders that they had been firing for the last two days, the catapults were firing heaving wooden barrels of oil over the heads of the oncoming masses.

Next came the signal to a small group of archers with longbows to launch their pitch-soaked fire arrows at the ground where the barrels of oil had landed and shattered. Flames erupted behind the enemy troops making it hard for them to retreat. The catapults continued to launch additional barrels of oil.

Behind the catapults, tar was melted in large cast-iron pots until it was hot enough to pour into barrels. Once the barrel was full, they were launched by catapult onto the battlefield where it would smash into the ground, causing the tar to spread across the burning oil and catch fire. The tar burned hotter, making it impossible for the enemy troops to retreat. An additional benefit created by the burning tar was the thick, black smoke that the wind blew into the eyes of the Shakarine foot soldiers.

Once King Timon knew his fire barricade was secure, he signaled for the archers with medium-bows to unleash their arrows into the Shakarine army. A buzzing cloud of death fell from the skies like a horde of deadly mosquitoes. The enemy commanders gave the signal to charge. Tripping over the bodies of the dead soldiers that lay on the ground ahead of them, the Shakarine charged. As Shakarine came within short-bow range, the archers switched bows and continued to fire their deadly volleys.

Seven thousand enemy soldiers began the charge; only four hundred reached the Yemenite front line. Within a few minutes, even the Shakarine commanders had surrendered.

Reveling in his newest victory, the King greeted the ranger as he arrived. "Havendar, what news do you bring?"

Havendar looked around then motioned for the King to step away from his command post. "There will be no reinforcements," Havendar explained matter-of-factly. "You are only facing about a quarter of the invading force. All the passes between the north and south are under attack. The other rangers should be notifying the other Kingdoms within the next day or two. In the north, the Shakarine united under one king. We believe his name to be Rigrelm."

King Timon didn't look at the ranger. Instead, he gazed out over the battlefield. Soon the fetchers would enter the battlefield with wagons to collect the enemy armor, weapons, shields, and arrows to recycle. Several horses were wandering across the field; most of them would be dinner for his troops over the next few days. Only the unscathed or minimally wounded horses would find themselves pulling wagons of armament back to the forges, and a select few of those would become a part of the officer herd.

From his vantage point, King Timon could see the foot soldiers dispatched to retrieve the wounded enemy soldiers. Behind them, the sorters were gathering the arrows and hauling them to the fetcher wagons. Collecting the arrows was their priority.

The joy of a battlefield victory was short lived as the King's thoughts returned to his son who lay dying in the next chamber of the tent. Where is that damned wizard? he wondered for the hundredth time today.

"We are in a good place to defend. We can hold out here for a long time," King Timon announced as he turned toward the ranger. "Reinforcements from our kingdom arrive daily. The army is camped over there. This is a good place; we will not die here."

The ranger nodded, "It won't always be this easy. Eventually, the Shakarine will realize they need troops on both ridges to attack your archers. Without experienced reinforcements, you will not have enough soldiers to defend the archers and the entrance to Ranker Thor," the ranger stated matter-of-factly. "Enough with war talk, tell me about Prince Purstar."

"He is one of the living dead. We have sent for Master Wizard Raajanaar. We hope he can do something so that at least my son's skill in battle can be passed to Darmuth," the King explained.

Nodding, Havendar looked away. He hated magic. All rangers hated magic, but of all spells, he hated the Inset spell the most. It was unnatural. The thought of a fallen soldier passing his skills to others by means of magic was just wrong. The receiver of the Inset needed only to use the Inset item to possess all the skills and knowledge of the fallen soldier. With the abilities the Inset would provide to Darmuth, he would be all that his brother was on the battlefield, and as he gained his own skills, he would be more.

Havendar had heard a little of the ancient spell; he knew enough about the spell to know that the Inset would be cast into a ring... a weapon... armament? Who knew? When you die, you should just die. The only thing that should carry on is your reputation, he thought.

As Havendar stood looking over the battlefield, he replayed the conversation with the King in his mind. The wizard, Raajanaar, was coming to cast the Inset on his son. Something unbelievable had just occurred to him. In his grief, King Timon had just revealed that the Master Wizard Raajanaar was the Burya, the Master of the Forbidden Magic, and thus the Grand Master of the Grand Council. He knew this because his Grand Master, Noblem, had once taught him that only the Grand Master of the Grand Council knows, and is able, to cast the Inset spell.

# Chapter 5

The steady plodding of the pack animals' hooves against the ground could be heard over Yron's chanting. When Darmuth listened closely, he could hear his horse limp from the injuries it sustained from the attack by the Hawkriders.

Darmuth watched Yron closely, attempting not to be noticed. From what he could see, Yron was not actually carving the wood with the knife, as the Prince had initially thought. It appeared that he was using the long slender knife to somehow bind the strands of wood together, creating a corner.

It amused Yron to watch Darmuth pretending not to be interested in what he was doing. Yron tried to make it easier for Darmuth to see his work. After all, there was no reason to hide his efforts; even a novice wizard could cast a mending spell.

Once the first corner of the Inset box was complete, Yron held up the wood, inspecting it from every angle. When he had finished, he showed his creation to Darmuth. Darmuth smiled and nodded. Dang, Darmuth thought to himself. He had been caught.

Raaj had taken the lead. Darmuth rode forward and tried to start a conversation with him, but the wizard was not interested in talking. His answers were short, no more than a word or two and it became obvious to Darmuth that he didn't want to be interrupted.

Reaching into his pack, Darmuth grabbed a piece of bread. He was not hungry but he was bored. Somehow chewing on the bread broke the boredom. Yron's dog was scouting ahead and to the south of Raaj. Overhead, Raaj's majestic golden eagle circled, watching the surrounding area. Darmuth's attention was once again drawn to the hooves of Raaj's horse. They left no trace, making it impossible to track the wizard if he was riding that horse. Once again, Darmuth tried to understand why a wizard would cast the Levitate spell for such a long journey and if the horse was levitated, how could it run so fast?

Without any advanced notice, Darmuth's horse stopped so hard it caused him to lose his balance. If he had not been able to grab the saddle horn, he would have fallen to the ground. When Darmuth regained his balance, he looked around to see what had caused the sudden stop. Ahead, Yron's dog stopped. Darmuth could see that the wizard and Yron's horses had both stopped just as suddenly, but neither of them appeared to have lost their balance. Silently, he hoped that neither of them had noticed his near fall.

Ky was staring off into the tree line which was a few hundred yards to the north. The golden eagle that had been casually circling over the prairie field a quarter mile to the south just moments earlier was now flying directly toward the tree line. Darmuth watched as Raaj slid silently from his Payleen and ducked down in the tall grass. He took a couple of steps toward the tree line and then disappeared. Darmuth couldn't see Raaj anywhere. Nothing moved, nothing except the heads of the tall grass as the light breeze caused them to sway back and forth.

Yron had stopped chanting, and the knife had been put away. He freed his hands by placing the wood that he had been working with into the bag at the side of his packhorse. Darmuth watched Yron draw a knife, shorter than a standard dagger. Its black handle was tucked tightly under Yron's sleeve, with the blade protruding from the back of Yron's hand. The blade was made of what seemed to be white bone. Darmuth was so focused on the blade in Yron's right hand that he didn't notice he was clutching another knife in his left hand.

Lifting his leg over the horse's head, Yron stepped off his Payleen and slid to the ground. He stood at the trail's edge between the tree line and the Payleen. His stance indicated that he was defending the party. Darmuth reached for his sword and slid off his horse. One thing is for sure, he thought, I am not going to let that apprentice be my protector as I sit and here and watch.

As quickly as he thought those words, Yron had crossed the fifteen feet that separated the two, slashing in the air just in front of Darmuth's chest. Before Darmuth could even cry out, he heard the clatter of an arrow as it was struck in mid-flight and watched it fall to the ground. The arrow was intended for him, and the Prince knew it. Yron motioned for Darmuth to lie on the ground. Begrudgingly he complied. Fifteen minutes later, Raaj reappeared from out of the grass. One of the knifes in his hand was dripping blood. "There were three," Raaj said. "I don't know what they were doing here, but if we can locate their camp, maybe we can find out. Darmuth, you and Yron go over there and set up camp. No fires." Darmuth began to protest, but Yron was already leading the packhorses to a small clearing in the grass alongside the road that Raaj had identified.

By the time Darmuth arrived at the location Raaj had picked for the camp, Yron had driven two stakes into the ground and tied a rope between them. The horses were attached to the rope, spaced about ten feet apart. The horses began to graze on the grass around them. The Payleen were left to graze as they pleased.

Yron kept his eye out for Raaj. He expected he would be back shortly with the attacker's belongings. In the meantime, Ky was circling the camp warily, watching for something, anything. Above, Raaj's Familiar was circling over the prairie.

When Raaj finally returned, he was carrying a shirt that he had taken from one of the men he had killed. Raaj opened the shirt which he had tied shut to use as a carrying bag and allowed the contents to pour out onto the ground. In his other hand, he carried two short-bows. Yron watched as Raaj sorted through the assassins' belongings: a few bags of coins, two daggers, and assassin's arrowheads. It was obvious to Yron that the belongings Raaj had gathered came from the men he killed.

Yron had been taught the difference between an assassin's arrowheads and a normal arrowhead. The assassin's arrowhead had a thin groove along the cutting edge of the arrow. Assassins would fill the groove with poisons or paralyzing agents so if the arrow produced a non-fatal wound; the target would still die or be immobilized by the poison.

Raaj and Yron looked at each other. Yron could read the wizard-speak in Raaj's face and understood what he was asking him to do. He headed back to collect the arrow he had knocked out of the air. If Raaj was right, the arrow he had hit down was an assassin's arrow and was meant to kill Darmuth.

Yron noticed, but he didn't recognize the strange feathers on the arrow shaft. He would ask Raaj about them later. Just as Raaj had expected, it was an assassin's arrow. As Yron carried the arrow back to the camp, he wondered why anyone would want to kill Darmuth.

Raaj looked up when Yron entered the camp. Yron knew the question before Raaj even asked. Using wizard-speak, he responded as he handed Raaj the arrow, Yes, an assassin's arrow but what type of feathers are these on the shaft? Raaj studied the feathers and then went back to studying the bow he had been holding in his hand when Yron entered the camp.

Yron could see Raaj casting a spell on the bow. He didn't know what Raaj was doing, but he knew it would be best to keep Darmuth's attention elsewhere.

"Darmuth," Yron called to his traveling companion, "let's fix something to eat. Help me gather some firewood." The two men went about gathering enough dry wood to warm a meal. The dry wood would mean they could start a small fire and there would be no smoke.

Yron watched Raaj's eagle, Abinya, as it landed on a rock nearby. The eagle must have found the assassin's camp, Yron thought because when Yron looked up again, Raaj was gone.

"Where did the Master go?" Darmuth asked when they got back to camp.

"He must be looking for the camp of the men he killed," Yron responded. "Let's make sure we have a meal prepared when he gets back."

Despite his words, Yron's curiosity was getting the best of him. He was dying to know what Raaj had discovered about the bow and what information he would bring back after searching the assassin camp.

Within seconds they had a cooking fire. Darmuth stood in awe as he watched Yron cast a fire spell. Magic users had always fascinated him. Twice, he had applied for an apprenticeship at the yearly Mascar that came to the High Plain, but neither time was he able to pass the dexterity or memorization tests that were given by the Wizards' Guild.

Darmuth had so wanted to be a wizard, but those dreams were all gone now. He knew that after his brother's death, he would be named the Crown Prince. There was no way his father would allow him to leave the castle now. He must train to be a knight. No, he must train to be the King.

Havendar stood staring out the window of the tent watching the fetchers gather the spoils from the dead enemy troops. "The Shakarine won't continue to take losses like today," Havendar noted as the windswept his glossy black hair out of his face. "They are going to find an alternative attack strategy. I will be leaving to scout along Back Top to see if I can discover what that strategy might be. If I am not back by dusk tomorrow, something is going on, and you had better send scouts to find me or to see what has happened. If I need more time, I will leave a message."

The King nodded in agreement, and Havendar left the tent. He could hear the ranger whistle for his horse. A few moments later, the ranger was galloping north toward Back Top.

Standing in the tent alone, the King had a sudden urge to visit his son. The day's battle had distracted him from the true issues at hand. His eldest son lies in the next room holding onto life only because of the magic of the healers, and his only other son was somewhere between here and Lanner Peak.

Saying a quick prayer for Darmuth's safety, the King pulled back the tent curtain to where his oldest son lies motionless. Taking a deep breath to give himself courage, he entered the room.

Gertoff, the King's personal healer, was standing at Prince Purstar's side. She was dressed in white camel-hair robes indicating she was a Master Healer and the healers blue sash that hung from her waist signified she used magic in her healing. As was customary for healers, her hair was gathered in one long braid down the center of her back, interwoven with blue and white ribbons that partially hid the graying of her long, rust-colored hair. The King could see the gentleness of Master Gertoff's touch as she washed his son's face with the herb mixture used to prolong his life.

The sweet smell of the mixture was heavy in the room. Gertoff hadn't heard him enter; her focus was entirely on the still figure of the Prince. The King clenched his teeth to prevent tears from streaming down his cheeks as he stood watching her care for his son. He was barely able to endure the sight of his dying son. His heart sank further as he realized the heir to his Kingdom was only days away from leaving life behind, and he began his journey to Jahla, the resting place reserved for honored warriors.

From the other side of the room, one of the healers' young apprentices entered the room. "Your Majesty," she said as she recognized the King's presence and bowed in respect. The King matched her bow.

Gertoff spun around, spilling her bowl. "Your Majesty, I didn't hear you enter."

"I didn't want to disturb you while you were caring for my son. That is the most important thing to me," the King responded. Solemnly shaking his head, he left the room as tears filled his penetrating gray-blue eyes.

Gertoff looked at the apprentice, "We need more potions." I hope that wizard hurries, she silently added to herself, I don't know how much longer we can keep him alive. The Prince's wound is deep, and there was old magic – killing magic – in the sword.

Raaj's Familiar, his golden eagle, Abinya, led him to the assassins' camp. Above, the eagle's circling descended lower and lower toward the ground, finally landing in a tree above the campsite. When Raaj arrived at a point where he could observe the camp, he squatted in the shadows of the trees to watch.

No smoke came from the campfire. Nothing moved. Raaj was confident there had only been three members of the assassin team, but he was cautious. The eight horses tied to the trees on the far side of the camp were the only things moving. From his vantage point, he could see the horses had characteristics of a Payleen; this puzzled him.

Raaj walked along the tree line, as he moved to the edge of the camp. The dead fire led Raaj to believe no one had been at the camp for hours. Saddles and pack racks were scattered around; food was left out. While the camp was neatly arranged, the assassins had left in a hurry. After waiting an hour, Raaj entered. He had decided to pack up the assassin's camp and take the horses and their belongings back to his camp.

Approaching the horses, he noticed they were not like his Payleen but a very similar breed. The hoofs touched the ground, but they left a print that was very hard to see, even with a trained eye. They were also not empathic, requiring the use of reins and a saddle to guide them. Other than that, they looked just like the Payleen stock you could find in the wizard's stalls at any Mascar.

Once the assassins' camp was packed, Raaj grabbed the reins of the horses and led them back to the camp set up by Yron. When he arrived, Verser looked at the oncoming horses but did not respond aggressively like he typically would when around a strange Payleen, especially another stallion.

Yron was relieved when he saw Raaj; the wizard had been gone a long time, but he knew that while Abinya casually circled overhead, there was no cause for concern. Yron could determine where Raaj was by watching where Abinya was circling.

It was the assassins' horses that Yron noticed first. Leading them was Raaj, but If it hadn't been for Abinya and the horses, he would have never spotted the wizard coming back.

From this distance, Yron couldn't tell how many horses Raaj had in tow. It wasn't until Raaj entered camp that Yron realized it was not his eyesight that was the problem; these horses were Payleen, or something very similar, and they had the same characteristics that allowed them to blend into their surroundings just like the Payleen.
Chapter 6

Raaj handed the reins of the horses to Yron as he entered the camp, and Yron tied them to nearby tree limbs. The horses appeared to be Payleen, but the fact that they would take a bridle, allow themselves to be tied to anything, wear a saddle, or be used as a pack animal, was surprising to Yron.

Raaj enjoyed watching Yron's befuddlement over the new horses. Finally, Raaj explained that the horses were not like the hybrid Payleen that had been bred for thousands of years by the Wizards' Guild, rather, they were the original horses that the Payleen stock initially came from.

Once Raaj was settled, the three men sat down to eat. Only the wind blowing through the trees broke the silence of the meal. While they ate, using wizard-speak, Raaj explained that it appeared the two assassins and an apprentice were from the southern nation of Warteen. He couldn't explain why the women barbarians from the south would be hunting Darmuth, but they had undoubtedly been waiting for him for several days.

Yron couldn't contain himself any longer, "What about the bow?" he asked aloud. Raaj was a little surprised at the question.

"It is old magic," Raaj explained. Using wizard-speak he continued, I believe it has an Inset spell cast into it, but the bow is made entirely out of wood, and we have never been able to cast the Inset spell into organic material. Additionally, there is no wizard signature with the casting. I can't fathom how an Inset spell could be cast without it. This needs to be researched.

"Yron, have you ever shot a bow and arrow?" Raaj asked pointedly.

Yron responded, "No, never."

"Good. Take this bow and fire an arrow to test my theory," Raaj requested.

Yron took the bow from Raaj's hand and picked up one of the arrows that laid among the items Raaj collected from the body of the dead assassins. He identified his target to Raaj, drew the bowstring, and fired the arrow at one of the logs laying on the ground. The arrow leapt from the bow and struck a small branch, precisely where he had aimed.

Darmuth watched Yron retrieve the arrow, "Incredible! How did you learn to use a bow like that? That shot would have been hard for even our best archers, especially using a bow they had never fired before."

"Lucky shot?" Yron responded hopefully.

Raaj snorted at his Maiggii's claim.

Yron sat down, looking at the bow. He couldn't determine the type of wood used to make the bow. Handing it back to Raaj, he asked in wizard-speak about the wood. Raaj told him they would talk about it later since Darmuth was watching. Yron knew one of the reasons the wizards had been able to keep their wizard-speak secret was that they were selective in its use; they tried never to use it when someone was watching closely.

Yron still wanted to ask Raaj about the arrow that was shot at Darmuth but that would need to wait as well. Turning to Darmuth, Yron asked, "How much longer do you think it will take us to get to your brother?"

"At this pace, it will take us another four or five days just to get to Yemenor, and Ranker Thor is three to four days beyond that," Darmuth replied in frustration.

"It may take us longer than that," Raaj responded. "With the events of today, I think we will need to travel at night, and that will be slower going."

All three men nodded. "If we are going to start traveling at night, you two will need to get some rest. It will be a long night." As Yron and Darmuth rolled out their bed packs, Raaj began to search through the belongings of the assassins.

Other than dried meat, amongst the supplies, Raaj found two poison potions and what he believed was a written assassination demand. Neither the Language nor the Decipher spell gave him any insight into what the letter said. Perhaps a ranger would be able to help, Raaj thought. They have a keener knowledge of languages, especially some of the older ones.

Three hours later, Raaj woke Yron. It was time to change the watch. Yron rolled out of his pack and climbed over to sit by Ky, who had found a small rise in the terrain where he could lie in the sun while he watched over the camp. Yron began to work on the second corner of the Inset box. Ky looked up as Yron started to chant and then went back to watching over the camp.

Havendar was relieved to leave the King's camp. The smell of dead bodies had started to invade the surrounding area. He headed to the southern edge of Back Top where he could see the entire battlefield. There was no sign that the enemy was going to launch another attack today. There was also no sign that they were going to make any recovery efforts.

He noticed that the archers, as well as those that supported them, had started to relax. He could even see King Timon's scouts hidden in the rocky outcrops along the ridge, watching for approaching enemy troops. A couple of them looked like they had fallen asleep. He smiled at the thought of sneaking up on them and scaring them. If only he had more time.

Dismounting from his horse, he urged the trusty animal to return to the King's camp. Removing his backpack from his horse, Havendar headed north along the ridge on foot. There were no signs of an imminent attack. The enemy had retreated rather quickly, leaving wagons, supplies, and weaponry. At some of the camps, he could see wounded soldiers grouped but there were no healers helping them.

Despite his years of experience, Havendar had never liked scouting alone. It wasn't so much the risk factor but rather that there was no way to get updates back to the camp. Unfortunately, this situation called for scouting alone. Something had changed, and he could feel it. Stealth and haste were needed, and Havendar knew he would be best off on his own.

Climbing down the sheer wall was difficult, but Havendar decided to stop following the ridgeline. He needed to find the enemy and discover what they were doing. Once on the valley floor, it became clear from the tracks that the main force of the enemy troops had left before today's battle and so had their commander. Havendar surmised that the fight was just a fake to keep King Timon at Ranker Thor, perhaps to prevent him from being able to assist in other battles.

Havendar knew he must find answers. The last thing the King needed was a surprise flank attack. Equally as damaging would be a faulty report of troop movement, particularly if the Shakarine were able to surprise one of the other kingdoms under attack with a twenty thousand troop reinforcement. That would turn the tide of any battle. Havendar was beginning to regret his decision to send Sevan, his maiggii, with the other rangers. If Sevan was with him, they could cover ground faster and give the King's camp a quicker report.

By nightfall, Havendar knew he needed to get a message back to King Timon. Off in the distance, he could see the glow of campfires from what he expected to be the Shakarine army, reflecting off the clouds. At his pace, he knew it would take him over a day to get there but only if he traveled through the night. Havendar looked skyward; the same clouds that were reflecting the campfires were blocking any light he could receive from the stars. It would be a couple of hours before the moons would rise above the mountain peaks and even then, he might not have much light.

He needed to head back to the rim. It would be a mistake to cut across the mountains to catch up with the enemy army faster for fear that he might miss an attacking force hidden in one of the valley's inlets. Hating the decision, he was forced to make, Havendar knew he had no choice. He needed to head back to the ridge and wait for the moons to clear the peaks before he could return to the King's camp.

Half an hour later, he'd reached the valley ridge. He found an alcove in an outcropping to rest, hide, and keep an eye on the valley floor. It was quiet tonight, with the only sounds those of night animals on the move.

Havendar's horse arrived at the Yemenite camp just before dusk. While it concerned King Timon slightly, he knew Havendar wouldn't be able to ride the horse through the thick underbrush. The ranger must have gone on foot, he thought. The King initially thought he should send a scouting party out to find Havendar, but he realized sending them out when it was dark would be foolish. He would wait until morning before deciding what to do.

Captain Ranth, Captain of the King's personal guards, looked up as the King approached, "Your Majesty, have you heard from the ranger?" The members of his staff, who were working on the battle strategy for the next attack, all looked up in search of the answer.

"No word," the King responded. "His horse just returned though, so he must have continued on foot. Perhaps we should send scouts out in the morning."

"Captain Ranth, do we have the casualty reports yet?" the King asked.

"Fifty-seven dead, two hundred thirty-one wounded," Captain Ranth responded. "Twenty-three of the dead are archers, seventeen archer supports; the rest are foot soldiers."

"And the enemy?" the King questioned.

"We don't have actual counts, but we figure about seven to eight thousand," Ranth replied. "It doesn't make sense. They never retreated; they fought to the death.

"We need to prepare for the next attack even though we cannot see any indication of an immediate attack," continuing his report. "We are recovering about forty percent of useable arrows; forty-five percent damaged arrows. Morale is high."

"Good," the King nodded. "Have we heard any word on the other battlefronts?"

"Nothing yet, Your Majesty," Captain Ranth reported.

"Any word on Darmuth?" the King queried, allowing himself a small bit of hope.

The Captain's head dropped sadly, "No, Your Majesty."

Yron kept the fire going, but with flames at a minimum, he used only dry wood to prevent smoke. Working on the Inset box was much easier when he wasn't riding Tristina. In the hour and a half that Raaj had been sleeping, Yron had finished the second corner. Just as he was about to start the third corner, Raaj awoke.

As the wizard stirred, Yron stood up and moved toward him. Setting aside the pieces of the Inset box, he approached Raaj.

"We are going to move all of our supplies to the Payleen that we recovered from the Warteen assassins, as they will travel faster and leave less of a trace. We can send our packhorses back to the homestead. They will be fine there. Maw will take care of them," Raaj explained. "Let's sort through the assassins' belongings, decide what we are going to keep, and set up this camp to make it look like they were ambushed here."

Yron nodded and began to remove the packs from the Warteen Payleen. Together, Raaj and Yron sorted through the assassins' belongings. They collected a few more arrowheads, about one hundred gold coins, dried meat, and two lengths of ancient elfin rope. They scattered the rest of the supplies over the campsite as if the packs had been ransacked. Yron placed the items they wanted to keep in their packs, along with their supplies. Darmuth's saddle was placed on one of the assassins' Payleen. Raaj put water on the campfire to boil so they could have some hot tea before they began traveling for the night.

"I will explain to you later but for now, do not use any magic around any stranger," Raaj said. As Yron attempted to ask a follow-up question to the cryptic request, "Now wake up the boy." Raaj interjected.

Once Darmuth was awake, Raaj explained the new plans, including telling him he would be riding one of the Payleen. Handing Darmuth some pieces of tent canvas, he instructed him to tie them to the hooves of his horse, so its hoof prints were not so easy to identify. Darmuth tied the material to his horse's hoofs while Raaj finished making the tea. He left the teapot on the fire, knowing the fire would eventually burn itself out. This would make it seem more likely that the assassins had been ambushed while preparing their meal.

As Yron and Darmuth finished packing, Raaj took a couple of horses and retrieved the assassins' bodies and brought them to the camp. Yron led the pack Payleen out of the camp, while Raaj finished making the site look like bandits had surprised the assassins and ransacked the camp. Raaj didn't know what people would think about three women warriors being attacked in the camp, but there was no time to do anything else.

After Darmuth climbed on the Payleen he was given to ride, Yron handed him the reins and urged him to ride down the trail to where the pack Payleen were waiting.

As the Prince headed out of the camp, Raaj cast the Speak-to-Animals spell. Yron had learned that while animals cannot understand words, they can understand pictorial images. Raaj instructed the other horses to go back to the homestead and wait there. It wasn't long before the horses shook their manes and began to race toward their home.

Putting a couple of finishing touches on the camp, Raaj and Yron mounted their Payleen and cantered down the road to meet up with Darmuth. Raaj took the reins of four of the pack Payleen and Yron took the remaining three. With Raaj in the lead, they started down the road toward Ranker Thor. Ky was already scouting down the road. Occasionally, he would stop to wait for the group to catch up.

The pack Payleen allowed for faster travel. They were now limited only by the speed of Darmuth's partially lame horse. Raaj wished that Darmuth wasn't so attached to the animal and would have agreed to send it back to the homestead with the other horses.

The overcast sky limited their ability to see, but Raaj knew that when the moons finally appeared, the light they provided would help them. Yron, however, was frustrated. He couldn't work on the Inset box at night. There would never be enough light for him to see the individual fibers of the wood and, without that, he wouldn't be able to weave the Inset box.

Instead, he focused on something he was also good at – improving magical spells. His current dilemma, the Inset spell needed for King Timon's son, was proving troublesome. Yron knew he had a problem with his Inset capture spell; the Inset was either dying or disappearing out of the Inset box. If he couldn't find a way to drastically prolong the life essence that was captured and placed in the Inset, the spell would be of no use for Prince Purstar. He needed to find a way to preserve the Prince's Inset for at least two years. It would take that much time to get enough plithim crystals and then forge them into a single crystal during the blue moon.

As Yron thought about the Inset box, his mind kept wandering. Was there a way to forge the plithim crystals before the blue moon? What was it about the blue moon that was needed to properly forge the single crystal? Why did the life essence only last a few weeks in the Inset box? What if the essence didn't die? What if it escaped? What happened to the escaped Inset, if indeed it had escaped?

As Yron thought about all the possibilities, he would occasionally break from his thoughts to check on Raaj. He knew his Master hadn't gotten much sleep since he returned from the Grand Council meeting. Additionally, Master Raaj seemed to be preoccupied with his own thoughts lately. There was no use questioning him, Yron figured, especially since Raaj would only deny anything was bothering him.

# Chapter 7

As the moons lifted over the mountains, Havendar could see the valley floor. There was nothing moving, no enemy, nothing. Where have they gone? he wondered. He needed to find that army, but he knew his first obligation was to report back to the King, pick up additional help, and track down the Shakarine. His ranger training and instincts helped him maintain his course of action. Havendar turned and headed south toward the Yemenite camp.

By morning, Havendar had reached the Yemenite camp. The fetchers were heading back out to the battlefield. Looking over the battlefield, he could see they had almost finished the salvage effort. He was close enough that Thurt should have heard his calls and come to him. For the briefest of moments, he feared that something had happened to his beloved horse.

Then, in the distance, he could hear Thurt calling to him. Damn, he thought, they must have tied him when he returned yesterday. Imbeciles! Don't they know anything about ranger horses? Havendar started to run toward his horse. He would need Thurt alert, not stressed out because he couldn't answer his master's calls.

Havendar entered the corral, Thurt was tied next to three other horses that were roped to one of the fence rails. He drew his knife and cut the leather strap that bound Thurt to the railing. From his pouch, he pulled out a treat and fed it to the horse while he rubbed the face of his stallion, which calmed him down immediately. Leading Thurt to the water trough, he drank heavily. Once Havendar knew his horse was properly cared for, he headed to the King's tent.

Havendar's entrance interrupted the King's War Council meeting. Upon seeing Havendar, the King commanded, "Report."

"Your Majesty, the Shakarine are gone. I traveled about fifteen miles along the canyon wall and couldn't see any sign of the main force. It appears they left days ago," Havendar reported. "I came back to get my horse and a few scouts. We will head out immediately tracking the main Shakarine force, which should not be hard. I will need four or five scouts to keep you updated daily."

The King motioned Captain Ranth to attend to the ranger's request. As the Captain left the tent, he began barking orders. Havendar knew the scouts would be ready soon. "I will also need supplies," Havendar requested. Another Lord nodded to the King, indicating that he would see to the ranger's needs.

The King turned to the remaining War Council members and began a series of questions, "What does this mean? Have they found another way to the castle in Yemenor? We need to send scouts out along the entire northern border. Send them in groups of four. We cannot be caught surprised again."

All the men were in full agreement. The King continued, "We will reconvene once the scouts have left." The remaining members of the War Council left the tent.

When the tent was empty, Havendar whispered his request for an update about Prince Purstar. In that short moment of whispers, it was apparent the two men had more than a professional relationship – they were lifelong friends. Checking to make sure they were alone, Havendar kissed the King on his cheek and whispered, "I will not fail you."

"I know. You never have," the King responded gratefully.

With respect in his dark eyes, Havendar left the tent and mounted his horse. The scouts assigned to travel with him were waiting. On their way out of camp, Havendar picked up the packhorse that Captain Ranth had prepared. The rapid departure of the five men revealed the urgency of their mission.

By midday, Havendar had arrived at the point from which he had turned back the previous evening. "Eat," Havendar ordered as he dismounted his horse. Immediately, he examined the traces left behind: horse manure that was three, maybe four days old and windswept footprints that suggested the same thing.

Havendar grabbed a piece of dried meat and climbed upon Thurt's back while shouting, "Let's go!" The other scouts had to scramble to mount their horses and catch up. Havendar planned on riding hard until nightfall taking a rest until the moons appeared and then continuing to track the Shakarine.

Yron wanted to discuss some of his ideas about the Inset spell with Raaj, especially the possibility that the life essences were not dying or disappearing but escaping from the Inset box. He also wanted to understand the reason they had to use a blue moon to forge the Inset crystal.

A lot had changed in the last few days. After long nights of reflection, Yron was glad he had not shared his rash plan to leave Raaj and find another Master Wizard to train him. Raaj was treating him differently, almost like he saw him as a different person. It was then that Yron realized just how much of a foolish mistake it would have been to abandon the man who had been almost like a father to him.

By the time the sun's first rays cast their shadows across the tree line, Raaj had found a small clearing about two hundred yards off the road. Only twice did they see a campfire as they rode through the night, which indicated other traffic on the road. Fortunately, each time, the camps were far enough off the road as to not hinder their travel.

They couldn't take the chance of being spotted, so there wasn't going to be a campfire, they were on cold rations. Yron offered to take the first watch; he needed to work on the Inset box. Initially he hoped he would be able to talk with Raaj about his theories; he realized this was not the time. It was never a good idea to talk about magic with Raaj when they were tired, especially for Yron. The more tired Raaj was, the more stubborn he got.

Anyway, weaving the Inset box would allow him more time to ponder his new theory regarding the possible escape of the life essence. Perhaps he would be able to figure out on his own the reason for the need of a blue moon to forge the Inset crystal. He had learned from experience that if he approached Raaj with a question about magic without thinking out all the possible aspects or answers, it would frustrate the Master and the conversation would be over.

An hour later, Yron had finished the four sides of the Inset box. Now it was time to weave the bottom of the box to the sides. It was always so much easier when Raaj would hold the box as he weaved. Looking over at Raaj, Yron had decided to wake him when Ky suddenly became aware of movement on the road. Casting an Alert spell that would wake Raaj if he didn't dispel it within fifteen minutes, Yron headed toward the road to see what had drawn Ky's attention.

Raaj had taught Yron the ranger skill of shadow-walking when he first became his maiggii. It was a skill the wizards had learned from the rangers as a part of a knowledge exchange between the two great guilds hundreds of years ago.

Initially, the wizards created rings for the rangers that allowed them to travel on foot as though they had cast the Silent-Walk spell. In return, the wizards were taught how to shadow-walk, which required no magic. The Silent-Walk spell provided an aura of silence around the caster, while shadow-walk, taught to the wizards, allowed them to blend into their environment.

Since that day, wizards and rangers had worked together, not only on special spells that would help the rangers with what they needed but, in return, the wizards were trained in the ranger art of hand-to-hand combat and how to use their surroundings to make them appear invisible. However, even though the alliance between the two guilds was distinct, many of the wizards and rangers refused to take part or participate in the trade of knowledge as they felt that using the training from another guild would pollute the true nature of their guild.

Despite this setback, every year at the Mascar, the rangers and wizards would meet in secret and discuss how the two guilds could better help each. This year, Raaj and Yron were going to share with the rangers their new Life Blade spell.

The Life Blade was something that Yron developed after seeing the fights in the Championship Games in Caprena. The Life Blade spell creates a magical weapon that causes a wound to initially looks like a typical injury caused by a sword or dagger, but this wound will heal itself quickly. This prevents a fighter from continuing the sword fight; however, within hours the injury begins to mend, and within twelve to twenty-four hours, the wound is completely healed, leaving no scar or permanent damage to the injured fighter.

Yron was thinking about the Life Blade presentation as he moved toward the road when out of the corner of his eye he noticed a suspicious rider.

Yron's lapse in concentration caused him to lose his balance and trip over a branch lying on the ground. As the branch broke under his weight, Yron knew he had made a mistake and silently cursed his clumsiness.

Stopping immediately and remaining motionless was his only hope of not being discovered. He was about fifty yards off the road, which was fortunate because the underbrush provided better cover but being so close to the road made it impossible for Yron to disguise the sound. He knew he couldn't move. Any further noise would reveal his position.

One of the horses on the road reared back and bolted. The rider quickly pulled the horse under control and stared in Yron's direction. Yron remained stiff and unmoving. He knew that back at camp, Ky was aware of the situation. After all, Familiars are always aware of what is happening with their Summoner, just as the Summoner is always aware of the Familiar. It would only be a matter of seconds before Ky would wake Raaj and the wizard would know of the situation as well.

The rider continued to gaze in Yron's direction. As his stare began to move away from Yron, slowly Yron let out a deep breath. After a few minutes, the rider prodded his horse and they continued. Yron's instinct was to relax and drop to the ground, but he had been trained to hold his position. Sure enough, after the rider had turned and started down the road, he stopped his horse without warning and stared directly back toward Yron's position. If Yron had moved, he would have been spotted.

After a few more minutes, the rider continued south down the road. Yron didn't recognize the colors or markings of the rider and, because of his carelessness, he was unable to learn anything more. With one misstep, he had gone from being the seeker to being the sought. Yron waited, watching the rider disappear. He had no desire to return to camp. Raaj was there and would want to discuss what had just happened.

By the time Yron got back to camp, Raaj was packing up their belongings, and Darmuth had been awakened.

"We can't afford to stay here," declared Raaj. "That rider could return at any minute." Yron knew what Raaj was saying was true, and he was embarrassed. Not just because he had made a mistake but because now Darmuth was aware of it.

Yron helped finish packing. Raaj was in a hurry to move. When they got back to the main road, Yron was told to stay behind and watch for the rider in case he returned. After an hour, Yron followed the road eastward in the direction Raaj and Darmuth had gone. As he rode, he kept a lookout for the marker Raaj would have set to indicate where they had turned off the road to set up the new camp.

Yron could see Darmuth's horse's hoof prints even though they had been covered. While the trail was plain to him, he knew that without the ranger training he had received in tracking, he would have never noticed. It was about an hour before Yron saw the magic marker set along the road. Once he saw it, he cast a Dispel magic spell on the marker and turned into the wooded area where Raaj had gone. Tracking here was easier; the horses had broken the tips of the branches as they passed through the underbrush.

Raaj was usually not this careless. Yron followed the trail to the camp. He fed and watered Tristina. Still not wanting to deal with a mad Raaj, Yron returned to the main road and began repairing the broken branches and erased any indication of where Raaj and Darmuth had cut through the underbrush. Yron hadn't repaired more than a hundred feet of the trail when he noticed several riders riding hard and heading east.

Sliding behind a tree, Yron watched the riders approach and pass where he stood. None of them was the rider he had spotted back at the other camp, but all wore the same markings. Yron found a safe place to sit and watch the road. Several more riders traveled past over the next thirty minutes. The second group of riders was attempting to track something, but even if they were rangers, they were moving too fast to see Darmuth's horse's hoof prints, let alone the path Raaj had cut to get off the road.

Yron waited for several minutes; then he headed back to camp. Raaj looked at him but didn't say a word. That was worse than if he had just yelled at me, Yron thought.

"Thanks for cleaning the trail up," Raaj finally said. "I didn't have time to be more careful. Abinya spotted a giant eagle in the air. Once she alerted me, I could see it hovering over the roadway. The rider had something that reflected in the sun which caught my eye, and we were able to move off the road quickly. Otherwise, we would have been spotted."

Yron knew it wasn't time to bring up his questions about the Inset. He needed rest and Raaj didn't seem to want to talk. Yron rolled out his bedroll and quickly fell asleep. When Yron woke several hours later, Raaj and Darmuth were whispering, and he could see Raaj pointing toward the road. Yron wanted to sit up so he could see what they were talking about but knew that sitting up to get a look could give away their position.

He listened to hear what Raaj and Darmuth were saying, but they were just too far away. Raaj was aware Yron had awoken, and looking at him, with wizard-speak he told him not to move. Yron started to ask a question, but Raaj had already turned away. That was the frustrating flaw of wizard-speak; if you weren't looking at each other, there was no way to start or maintain a conversation.

Yron could do nothing but lie there. Ky was nowhere to be seen. Closing his eyes, Yron concentrated on seeing what Ky was seeing. This magical ability was one of Yron's favorite parts about having a Familiar. On the road, the second group of men that had ridden past Yron had returned. They were sitting on their horses about fifty feet away from where Raaj had cut through to the current campsite.

They were waiting for something or someone. Their focus was on the clearing on the other side of the road. Fifteen minutes later, they dismounted their horses. Tying the horses to a couple of trees branches alongside the road, they walked into the clearing. They watched as a giant eagle dropped from the sky. The rider kicked his leg over the head of the eagle and jumped to the ground just before landing.

As the men with the horses walked back to the road, the Eaglerider looked down the road where the men had pointed. One of the men's voices intensified enough to be heard, "I told you I saw them. They were riding this way. There were three men and a dozen horses, heading east." The conversation continued, but Yron could not distinguish anything more until the Eaglerider spoke again.

"We need to find them. I will go search from above." After a few minutes, the rider mounted his bird while the other men returned to their horses and headed east.

As Havendar rounded the next corner, the gap between the two valley walls expanded. Scattered across the valley floor were burned out fire pits, thousands of them. As they came to a stop, Havendar and the others dismounted. The entire valley was filled with empty fire pits or half-burnt wagons. Havendar turned to one of the scouts, "Get a message to the King, NOW! The main Shakarine army was never here. This is a ruse. The fires were made to look like the main army was camped here. Those wagons were used to carry firewood."

Two of the scouts mounted their horses, but before they could turn to take the message to King Timon, both were dead. Havendar had seen the Shakarine scouts out of the corner of his eye but knew he didn't have time to warn the Yemenite scouts. Diving off his horse, he was spared being hit. The other two scouts were standing behind their horses; they were unhurt, but their horses weren't. Signaling to the other two scouts, Havendar ordered them to stay on the ground.

Havendar determined that their only hope would be when the Shakarine archers approached them to check to see if they were dead; perhaps then they could surprise them with a hand-to-hand assault. From where he lay, he could see his horse had taken two arrows and was lying on the ground. The arrows that had hit Thurt were fired in the second volley. From the number of arrows that had been fired, Havendar's determined that there were five, maybe six Shakarine archers.

It was now a waiting game. The archers would wait to see if there was any movement and Havendar and the scouts had to lie still and wait, hoping the archers would approach thinking they were dead. Just then, Havendar heard another arrow loosed and traveling through the air. It landed within inches of his left leg. The next one grazed his side.

His training protected him. When the arrow struck him, he did not flinch or move. He could feel the blood beginning to drench the cloth of his trousers. The scouts were still lying on the ground behind their horses. The archers were at ground level, Havendar reasoned, because they couldn't see the scouts lying behind their horses. Off to his left, Havendar could hear the archers walking toward them. Havendar slowly drew both of his daggers, holding one securely in each hand.

When they arrived, one of the archers kicked Havendar, checking to see if he was still alive. As the other two walked past the ranger, Havendar kicked one of them in the back of the leg. In the time it took the archer to fall to the ground, Havendar's first dagger found its mark just between the shoulder blades of one of the remaining archers. The second dagger found its way into the chest of another. Drawing his knife, Havendar leaped to his feet and turned to face the remaining archers. That was when he noticed, standing about seventy-five feet away with bows drawn, were twenty or more archers that he was unaware existed. Raising his arms out from his sides, Havendar dropped his knife.

After the archers saw Havendar drop his weapon, they peered over the dead horses and saw the Yemenite scouts. Havendar ordered the scouts to drop their weapons and come out from behind the horses. Standing they raised their hands; they waited for the Shakarine archers to approach. Five of the Shakarine archers came forward and tied up Havendar and the Yemenite scouts.

# Chapter 8

"I have never seen Eagleriders this far north," Raaj muttered. "What are they doing here, and why are they looking for us?"

Yron knew this was not a question Raaj expected to be answered. Rather, he knew that Raaj was sorting through in his mind the events that had just occurred. Darmuth turned toward Yron saying, "While you were sleeping, Raaj spotted the Eaglerider as he was circling overhead. The tree cover was our protection. We also spotted riders traveling on the road looking for us." Yron listened in silence, occasionally nodding to ensure Darmuth continued his report. Yron remained focused on Raaj as he continued to talk to himself. When Darmuth finished his report, they sat in silence, watching the Master Wizard stroke his beard in thought.

Finally, Raaj turned to his traveling companions. "All right, we have no choice. We must head north, then east, circling to Ranker Thor by passing through Yemenor. This will add several days to our journey, but after the Hawkriders' assassination attempt and now these riders searching for us, there is no other option."

"Yron, you head east. Find the old road that leads to the ruins of Berthur Nor, the old Yemenite castle. The road should not be more than four or five miles from here. You won't spot it by traveling on the main road; it will be overgrown."

Yron remembered hearing stories about the old road and how it hadn't been used for over a hundred years. It was after Berthur Nor was destroyed by the Acelar that King Timon's father hid the road to prevent another surprise attack from the south. Yron remembered overhearing Raaj once say that King Timon's father had used earth magic and natural tree growth to hide the road.

"Send Ky back when you find the road, otherwise return to us by dusk. Take Tristina and three of the packhorses," Raaj directed.

Yron quickly loaded his packhorses and headed east along the animal trail that ran parallel to the road. It was hard traveling, and the underbrush was thick. Even using the animal trails, Yron knew he needed to be careful not to make it easy for someone to track him.

Ky scouted ahead along the trails, making the search for the old road much easier. It was Ky that spotted the road first. If not for the small clearing Ky had lain down in to wait for him, Yron might have missed the road completely. Stepping out of the thick underbrush and into the open area, he noticed Ky was lying across two wagon grooves which had been carved into the ground over many years of use. The compacted dirt caused by the wagon wheels had prevented heavy vegetation from taking root.

Climbing a nearby tree to check how far away the main road was, Yron could see that the trees in the old road were just slightly shorter than the trees alongside the old road. The discrepancy in tree height was the last evidence that he needed to assure himself that he had found the ancient road.

Excitement tingled through his body as Yron realized he had found the road that led to Berthur Nor. He was relieved, hoping this would make up for the clumsy mistakes he made earlier. Although it had taken longer than expected, at least he wouldn't have to return to camp unsuccessful.

Grinning with satisfaction, Yron sent Ky back to notify Raaj and Darmuth. Setting a marker to tell Raaj he was heading north toward Berthur Nor; Yron moved down the old road. It was overgrown, but the deer had kept part of the trail partially cleared. Looking toward the treetops, Yron knew the sun hadn't set, even with the forest floor covered by shadows.

Before long it was too dark to ride safely. Dismounting Tristina, Yron grabbed the reins of the packhorses and continued down the old road on foot, Tristina forced to follow. Long after the sun had set, Yron found one of the small caves hidden in the rock off the side of the road that had been used for protection from the elements, years ago, by travelers heading north toward Berthur Nor.

The cave would provide much needed cover from prying eyes overhead. Setting up camp, he placed a Detect spell a hundred yards down the trail each way so that he would be alerted if anything was traveling down the path. Yron knew he wouldn't be able to concentrate on finishing the Inset box if he had to keep alert to what was happening outside the cave.

Pulling out his Inset box, Yron began working on attaching the bottom of the box. The chant he used to weave the fibers of the wood was something he had picked up at the Mascar from an old master weaver who wove fibers from ethereal tree leaves to create a cloak of invisibility.

Yron found that closing his eyes allowed him to focus and concentrate better on his weaving. As the night continued, Yron took a break from his weaving to reflect on attending the Mascar of his apprenticeship.

He vividly remembered the old man that he lived with and had cared for him from his earliest memory encouraging him to find a better life by getting selected for an apprenticeship at the Great Mascar. "You are too smart to be a farmer." Yron could still hear the old man's words. "Go find something that will make you happy, something that will challenge your mind. Go find that something you were meant to be."

He remembered the tears the old man kept hidden, as he helped him pack for the three-day trip to Sadar, a small village just outside of Yemenor where apprentice tryouts were being held. There was no money; Yron knew when he arrived at the Mascar he would have to sleep outside the city and wake early each morning to return to the city in time to take part in the morning tryouts. The old man had warned him about kidnappers that preyed on young would-be apprentices who carelessly slept near the city walls. He also told stories of people being captured and sold into slavery.

Yron remembered arriving in Sadar and finding the streets crowded. Even now, Yron couldn't remember seeing so many people at one time. The tests for the tryouts were set up in a field outside the village. There were flags marking where each apprenticeship tryout was being held. A slight breeze blew that morning, and Yron recalled the unique array of smells that filtered across the field.

It was easy to tell where the cooking apprenticeship tryouts were taking place as the sweet aroma of baking goods wafted from the east. In the distance, he could see the horses for the lancer tryouts, south of them were the archers, and in the middle, were the soldier tryouts. Around the central arena were stands where people would sit and watch the young men test their skills. They cheered for those who won their matches and booed when the apprentices didn't perform to their expectations.

Yron walked from tent to tent for most of the first day, simply taking in the incredible sights. That first afternoon he met the Master Weaver. It was his chant that first caught Yron's attention. The song was soothing, so he listened carefully to the words and rhythm. After a few minutes, the old weaver looked up. "Would you like to try?" he asked. Yron nodded, and the old man invited him in.

Yron spent the remainder of the day watching the Master Weaver chant and perform his art. Finally, Yron picked up a couple of scraps of the fabric and began to mimic what he had seen the old Master do. The fibers of the fabric moved with his chants, binding themselves together but left a scar-like closure across the fabric, not the beautiful, clean seam left by the master.

While Yron was attempting to weave the fabric, the Master Weaver stopped what he was doing and turned his focus to Yron's efforts. The unevenness of the seam he had made embarrassed Yron. Nevertheless, he was pleased when the Master encouraged him to come back the next day.

It was almost dark when Yron finally found a place to camp. After he had eaten, he looked around for something on which to practice the Weaving spell. Then an idea came to him: if you could weave cloth, why couldn't you weave branches? Picking up two sticks, he tried to weave them together. While the chant did cause the fibers of the wood to move, he wasn't able to cause them to intertwine. Yron decided that he must have remembered the chant wrong, so he started to change the words, trying different combinations of the words he recalled the old weaver singing.

Each new set of words caused the wood fibers to do something different. By the time the first rays of the sun reflected off the leaves on the trees, Yron had finally found the words to the chant that caused the wood fibers to bind to each other. They were different than the words he remembered being taught, but they worked. Exhausted, he ate a small morsel of food and fell asleep.

It was the sound of a wagon rambling down the road that awoke Yron a few hours later. Looking around, he gathered his belongings and reached for the sticks that he had bound together. However, when he went to pick them up, the two sticks fell apart. Quickly, he re-chanted the spell and once again the fibers of the sticks began to intertwine, but by the time he arrived at the tent of the Master Weaver, the sticks had fallen apart. Just outside the weaver's tent, Yron chanted his binding spell on the sticks once again.

Yron handed the sticks to the Master Weaver to show him that he had been practicing what he was taught. As he did so, Yron's heart sank as he saw that once again the fibers of the sticks began to unweave themselves. Within a couple of minutes, the other end of the stick that the Master Weaver was not holding fell to the ground.

"Where did you learn this?" the old weaver asked.

Yron reminded the old weaver that he had taught him the chant yesterday. The Master Weaver's response shocked Yron, "You cannot weave wood. No one can weave wood." The words echoed through Yron's mind.

"I know," Yron said, ashamed of his inability to accomplish his task.

Picking up one of the sticks from the ground, Yron asked for the other stick the Master Weaver was holding. Slowly, he began the chant again. Once again, the fibers of the wood started to intertwine with each other. When Yron had finished weaving the two sticks together, he presented it to the Master Weaver again. "There seems to be something that I am doing wrong because as soon as the chant stops, the fibers lose their bond," Yron explained.

There was silence as the Master Weaver watched the fibers of the sticks unwind. Finally, the old weaver spoke. "I have never heard of anyone that could weave wood."

Havendar cursed himself. How could he have fallen into this trap? He had been reckless, and now he was going to pay for it. The rope around his neck was making it hard to breathe. Each time he resisted, his captors yanked on the rope, pulling it tighter around his neck. His hands were tied behind his back with a block of wood between his wrists, preventing him from loosening the ropes.

The ropes that bound his legs forced him to take many small steps just to keep up with his captors on their horses. Havendar thought to himself, this is a good way to transport prisoners; it forces the captives to run continually, taking many small steps just to keep up, effectively wearing them out.

They had been traveling for over two hours, and Havendar could feel the fatigue starting to make itself known in his legs. The light from the lantern carried by the lead archer barely provided enough light to help him see enough so as not to trip. Behind him, he could hear the scouts stumbling over obstacles on the trail.

Havendar heard one of the scouts fall. As he turned, looking back to check on his man, he tripped over a rock – knocking himself off balance and falling to the ground. The horse didn't stop. Instead, the rope tightened around his neck and began to drag him. As the horse drug Havendar across the ground, he began to choke and couldn't breathe.

The sun shining in Havendar's eyes woke him as he lay on the ground. Thinking back, he vaguely remembered someone loosening the rope from around his neck. The choking must have caused him to pass out. He knew he must have been lying there for a while; the sun was directly overhead.

Havendar could hear the archers talking. Looking around, he could see several hundred soldiers and archers in the camp. It wasn't long before the captor guarding him realized he was awake. The guard offered Havendar a bitter tasting drink and a ladle of cold soup. Gratefully he ate the food, disgusting as it was, while he began to evaluate his surroundings.

Standing was not an option; the rope attached to his neck was staked to the ground. When he moved, the pain from the arrow wound caused him to flinch. Havendar noticed that the wound had been bandaged, but he could feel the heat of an infection setting in.

As Havendar dismissed his problems, he noticed that most of the camp was moving out. Soon, only a few men remained. In preparation for leaving, Havendar's guard untied the rope from the stake and attached it to the pommel of his saddle. The rope that had bound his legs had been removed. As they left the camp, Havendar understood why. This afternoon they were in a hurry, and he had to run just to keep up with the horses.

He quickly learned that there were two riders responsible for him; the rider in front set the pace, the rider behind followed with his crossbow drawn and pointed directly at his back. Although they were moving at an increased pace, it was easier to keep up with the horse today because the trail had been beaten down by the wagons that had carried the firewood to the fake encampment. They had traveled five hours when the rider in front stopped.

Untying Havendar from the pommel of his saddle, the soldier tossed the free end of the rope over a tree branch and pulled the rope tight, forcing Havendar to stand on his toes.

Once Havendar was secured, the men opened their packs and started to eat dried meat and bread, occasionally taking a drink from their flasks. After a few minutes, one of the men got up and gave Havendar a drink from the flask. He then placed meat in Havendar's mouth, allowing him to take a bite.

Turning toward the other soldier sitting on the ground, the man feeding him asked, "Do I have to stand here and feed this one? Can't we untie his hands and allow him to feed himself?"

"No, this one is a ranger. That is why we need to take him to Lord Noder at the main camp. He will have questions for this one." the soldier said as he repositioned his pack, stretched out, and closed his eyes. "These rangers can kill you just as quickly with their hands as they can with a weapon."

"Cripes, why don't we just kill him like the others? We can say he tried to escape and that we had no choice," complained the soldier.

"Just feed him the damned food so we can be on our way," the man retorted.

Havendar continued to ignore what the soldiers were saying. Turning to the soldier feeding him, he asked for more water in the southern dialect of Ashtoe, a language not commonly used in Yemenor. Havendar decided that the men might be freer to talk if they thought he didn't understand what they were saying.

"What did you say?" the soldier asked. Havendar didn't respond. When the soldier tried to feed him more meat, Havendar jerked his mouth away and looked straight at the fluid flask. "Oh, you want something to drink." Still, Havendar didn't respond. Finally, the soldier picked up the flask to give Havendar a drink.

"Murlar," the soldier said. As Havendar reached for the water with his mouth, the soldier pulled the flask away. "Murlar," he said again. This happened two more times before Havendar spoke out, as though the soldier were playing with him.

"Murloor," Havendar said.

"Murlar," the soldier corrected. Havendar figured he should try once or twice more before he pronounced the word correctly.

"Murlar," Havendar finally repeated. The soldier allowed him to drink from the flask.

This same ritual continued for the meat as well as some bread that the soldier had. When the soldier finished feeding Havendar, he walked over to the man lying on the ground, kicked his legs, and said "Ungan, let's go. I am riding in front this time."

Untying the rope, the soldier fastened Havendar to the pommel of his horse. Turning toward Ungan, he said, "You know, this one isn't so dumb. I was able to teach him how to ask for food," with a laugh he continued, "but I told him the soldier's ale was Murlar."

"Yak piss? Laydre, why did you ever tell him that it was yak piss?" Ungan asked.

Laughing harder, "Can you imagine when we get to camp, and he gets thirsty? He is going to be calling out for yak piss."

Both men started laughing. Laydre headed back toward the trail. Ungan followed, amused, "Yak piss? Now that is funny."
Chapter 9

Raaj was inspecting Darmuth's horse's wounds when he saw Ky had returned and was standing just outside the clearing's edge. It took a few minutes before Ky entered the camp. "Darmuth, it is time to leave. Get packed and let's go," Raaj quickly ordered.

Darmuth was startled when Raaj spoke, not just by the tone of Raaj's voice but because he hadn't said a word since Yron had left. Quickly, Darmuth placed his pack on the horse he was riding. After he was finished, Raaj told him to take the horses down the deer trail that Yron had followed. "About two hundred feet should do, then return and help me with the camp."

Raaj continued to pick through the items from the assassins' packs. When he finished packing the remainder of the items on the other horses, Darmuth began to lead them down the trail. Darmuth knew better than to attempt to take Verser. The bruise from where Verser kicked him the last time he approached had only just started to fade.

When Darmuth returned to camp, Raaj was lighting a fire with some of the dried logs he had found lying around the camp. One of the bedrolls looked like someone had left in a hurry.

"Darmuth, pick up all but three piles of that horse manure, spread it on the path that leads to the road, and don't step on it." When Darmuth had finished, Raaj showed him how to take a tree limb and shake it as you drag it on the ground to eliminate the foot and hoof prints on the trail they were taking. While Darmuth erased the prints, Raaj walked down the path that led to the road, breaking some of the limbs to make it look like whoever had ridden into the camp had also ridden out.

As Raaj returned to the camp, he erased his footprints. Darmuth had finished removing all the other prints and was standing on the deer trail. "Darmuth, walk over here, slightly dragging your right foot as you walk," Raaj ordered.

Darmuth didn't like the way Raaj talked to him. After all, he was the future Crowned Prince. But he didn't dare cross Raaj. While he didn't know exactly what his father would do, he was sure that if Raaj gave his father a bad report about him, he wouldn't like what happened, Crown Prince or not. Dragging his foot like he was told, Darmuth realized Raaj was only trying to make the camp look like it had been occupied by others.

For the next few minutes, they walked around, leaving prints from the bedroll to the fire and then to where the horses stood. Firewood was gathered and placed on the fire and alongside it. After a few minutes, Raaj had Darmuth sit down. He then took one of Darmuth's boots and carved a gash in the sole of his boot. Darmuth began to protest, but Raaj's glare was sufficient to eliminate any semblance of a protest. "Now, repeat what you just did, without dragging your foot this time."

Darmuth walked around the camp as he was told. When he finished, Raaj picked up Darmuth and carried him to the deer trail. Raaj walked around the camp a bit more. He partly buried one of the assassins' broken arrow shafts. He then lay down on the ground, took out a couple of coins that had been recovered from the assassins, and partially buried them next to the bedroll to make it look like they had fallen out of someone's pocket.

Looking around the camp one last time, Raaj nodded his head in satisfaction, grabbed Verser's feedbag and spilled some of the grain on the ground near where the horses were tied up.

Verser followed Raaj as he walked to the deer trail where Darmuth was standing. "Go to the horses and lead them down the trail. Wait for me about five or six hundred yards ahead. Raaj watched as Darmuth led the horses away. As he did so, Raaj removed any trace of foot or hoof prints on the trail, as he headed toward Darmuth, occasionally stopping to repair a broken branch.

When Raaj arrived where Darmuth was waiting for him, they slowly led the horses down the trail looking for Yron's markers.

"It will be dusk in a few hours. We need to get off this path before then. If we don't, the deer will not use the path, and it will be obvious that someone has gone this way since there will be no deer prints on the trail." Darmuth nodded, understanding what Raaj was doing. As they rode, Darmuth wondered where Raaj had learned all his ranger skills.

Darmuth's thoughts were interrupted by the noise of crows scolding someone riding down the road. Darmuth couldn't see the riders through the underbrush, but Raaj stopped. While the deer trail they were riding on was several hundred feet from the road, Raaj didn't want the riders to catch a glimpse of any movement. Suspicious riders could cause them problems.

After a few minutes, the riders and their accompanying wagon could no longer be heard. Raaj continued to lead the group along the deer trail. Every mile or so, Raaj would cast a Dispel spell, removing the markers Yron had set to guide them.

Darkness was beginning to set in when Raaj found the marker that Yron had left to identify the road they had been searching for. They had traveled too late, and Raaj was concerned that the newness of their scent would prevent the deer from using the trail. Turning north, Raaj picked up the pace. "There is no way to know how far Yron traveled up this trail before he stopped to wait for us, but we need to set up camp. There will be no fire." Darmuth was glad to be stopping. He was tired of being responsible for picking up the horse waste as they traveled down the trail.

They ate in silence then Darmuth rolled out his bedding and lie down to sleep. After a few minutes, he got back up, picking up the pack that contained all the horses waste and moved it downwind. The smell was just too much for him. As he climbed back into his bedroll, he looked to see if Raaj was watching. Raaj's hood was pulled over his head, but if he didn't know better, he would have sworn that Raaj was laughing at him. From where he lay, Darmuth could not see a cloud in the sky. The last thing he remembered was thinking how crystal clear the stars looked.

When King Timon was told the ranger's horse had returned riderless, he feared something was wrong. The arrows in Havendar's horse's side told the story. It had been four days since Havendar and the scouts had left to find the main force of the Shakarine army. King Timon walked around the horse, then reached for the horse's mane. His fears were justified; just behind the ear and tied to the mane was the bell-toll.

No ranger ever left his bell-toll unless he was signaling "ranger in trouble." From years of experience in dealing with rangers, King Timon knew that rangers' horses are trained to return to the last place the ranger camped or the last camp that had people.

The arrow shafts still in the horse and the presence of the bell-toll led the King to believe Havendar must have been ambushed. This, along with the fact that none of the scouts' horses had returned with Havendar's horse, the King reasoned they must have been captured or killed. The King ordered the stable master to care for Havendar's horse as he left to meet with his War Council. Taking a few steps, the King turned to the stable master. "I want those arrowheads once they are removed," he ordered.

"Captain Ranth," the King ordered, "Send a small squad to retrace where Havendar had been scouting. You lead the group, but before you leave, I want scouts sent out in all directions. We need to find that main force. Also, send a courier to the other kingdoms. Explain to them that the main force we were facing has broken off fighting and that we don't know where they are. Include that Havendar is missing."

Captain Ranth bowed and left immediately. The King could hear him shouting orders, as he marched down the hill from the War Council tent to the stables. Kicking the corner of the carpet that had curled over, the King muttered under his breath "Where is that boy? Where is Master Raajanaar?"

The guard standing at the entrance of the tent could hear the King talk. Knowing he was alone and not knowing who the King was talking to, he looked inside the tent and asked, "Who, Your Majesty?"

Surprised at the guard's entrance, "Darmuth," the King replied. "He should be back by now."

The King walked through the tent and into the chamber where his mortally wounded eldest son lie. No one was in the room. Looking around, the King walked over to his son and knelt beside him and started to pray. "Please, dear God, keep him alive until we can have the Inset cast." Before he could continue with his prayer, Gertoff entered the room.

"Oh, Your Majesty," she said, startled to see him, "Excuse me, I will come back later."

"No, Gertoff, you are welcome to stay," the King responded. Getting off his knees, he walked over to the chair he had been sleeping in at night, his exhausted body collapsing into the chair.

Gertoff left the room, returning quickly with a glass of hot herbal tea. "Drink this, Sire," she said. "It will help you sleep." The King gratefully took the tea and began to sip. The liquid was hot, smooth, and soothing to his exhausted nerves. He began to relax and before he could finish the drink, he was asleep.

Gertoff lifted the cup from his hand, placed a blanket over him, then checked on the young Prince. She could tell from his color that her magical potions had started to lose their effectiveness. If Darmuth does not return quickly, all these efforts will be in vain, she thought.

Yron had finished weaving the bottom section of the Inset box. After inspecting it, he set it down alongside him and started to craft the lid. Since the bottom of the box had to match the lid perfectly, he would need to keep the bottom of the box close by as he constructed the lid. Weaving the first corner, he began to ponder the dilemma of how to keep the life essence trapped in the box for more than a few weeks.

No matter how he looked at the problem, he couldn't find another theory to accompany the two he already had. If the life essences were escaping, he would need to find a better seal between the lid of the box and the bottom, unless, of course, the Inset was not escaping through the seam but escaping through the walls of the box itself.

Yron was less inclined to believe that his second theory held much merit because if the Inset was being absorbed into the plithim liner of the box, wouldn't the Inset's abilities become part of the box and whenever someone held the box, the Inset's abilities would be transferred to the person holding the box?

Who knows, perhaps it is a combination of them both. As Yron sat pondering the Inset box dilemma, his mind turned to the ancient Inset bow that Raaj had found. Old magic, he thought. He remembered Raaj trying to explain why the Inset spell couldn't and never had been cast into organic matter before, yet here it was. The bow was indeed an Inset item. Clearly, you could cast an Inset spell into an organic item, but the magic to do so must have been forgotten.

Yron began to review the chant for the Inset. He chanted it over and over in his mind. He didn't know much about the spell but he was sure that the first part of the spell prepared the item to receive the life essence and the second part of the spell forced the life essence to co-exist within the item.

What caused the item to change so it would accept the life essence? Did the physical properties of the item change, or did it make the item act like a magnet so it would draw the life essence to it the way a magnet draws iron? Did the life essence surround the item, or did it penetrate it? Pulling off his Ring of Warmth, Yron used the edge of his knife on the ring. After a of couple hours, he had scraped the entire outer surface of the ring off.

Placing the ring back on his finger, he could feel his finger, then his hand, then his arm, and eventually his entire body begin to warm. He didn't believe the ring's ability to warm him had changed, at all. The only noticeable difference was that the ring was too big and could easily slip off his finger now. Yron decided that if the magic of the chanting permeated the entire item, then the magic of the Inset had to as well, but until he did the same with an Inset item, he couldn't be entirely sure.

This made sense since one of the Inset spells he had heard about had been cast into the plithim steel mixture while it was molten. The molten metal was then poured into a mold, so it could be easily fastened to the item it was intended to be. Yron fell asleep pondering whether the metal that was pared off the sword or shield lessened the effectiveness of the Inset spell.

He concluded that the person that used the Inset item could enjoy the full skill set of the individual that surrendered to the Inset, regardless of how much material was removed from the Inset item. But maybe only the biggest pieces would retain the Inset's ability. Otherwise, you could break a shield in half and both portions of the shield would retain its Inset... Or... Or... or... or... o???

Yak piss, Havendar thought as he smiled to himself. That was funny. He would have to remember to use that in the future. As Ungan headed down the trail in the lead, it wasn't long before Laydre caught up with him, and, instead of guarding Havendar as Ungan had done, he wanted to talk. Laydre's laziness in guarding me could play to my advantage, he thought.

Havendar's shoulders ached and he could tell his wrists were becoming raw from the rope that tied them to the block of wood holding his arms apart. The spacing between his wrists made it impossible for Havendar to untie or wear out the rope by rubbing them together.

The rope that fastened the block of wood to the bindings around his neck prevented him from climbing over the block of wood so that he could put his hands in front of him. As they rounded the next bend, Havendar could see that the tree line was giving way to an open space. Havendar had never explored this part of the country. He could see the mountains ahead and began to wonder if the Shakarine were planning to take him across the mountains to Belroot.

Havendar knew that each step he took forward was another step away from where he needed to be. Once they approached the tree line, Havendar could see a man-made ramp that stretched forward at least a mile. It was built to allow the wagons access to the plateau. As the group began to descend on the ramp, Havendar knew the attack by the Shakarine had to have been planned for years. Suddenly, he realized that if they had built this ramp to take the wagons up onto the plateau so they could feign an attack on the Yemenites, there had to be other places where they had built ramps to move the entire army.

We have allowed the natural barrier of the plateau and the mountain ranges to be our downfall, he thought. We never considered that the tribes of the north would ever be able to get an army over the mountains and thus never saw them as a threat. Havendar felt a panic set in his heart. He had to do something. He had to escape.

It took about an hour to descend to the valley floor. As Havendar looked up to the top of the plateau, he estimated it to be seven to eight hundred feet in elevation. To the north, he could see the pit where they had dug the dirt and stone for the ramp. Scattered throughout the area were broken wagon wheels and worn out, tossed aside wagon parts. Occasionally, he could see a carcass of one of the yaks that had been used to pull the wagons of dirt. It must have taken years to build the ramp, he thought, and they were able to do this right under our noses.

As the sun began to set behind the Back-Top Mountain Range, Ungan announced that it was time to set camp for the night. Laydre pointed to a small inlet in the ramp that led to the plateau wall. Ungan agreed, and they rode toward the small cove that became their camp for the night. To prevent Havendar from escaping, the two men pushed him to the ground and tied his feet together, then hog-tied them to the block of wood behind his back.

Havendar watched the men gather wood from the nearby broken wagons and start a small fire. As Laydre continued to search for more wood, Ungan started to warm some water and flatbread. Havendar had observed the men enough to know that Ungan was lazy and would be the most likely to give him an opportunity to escape, but Laydre was the most likely to make his life easier.

After Laydre had gathered enough wood for the night, he sat down beside Ungan. Both men ate and after a while Laydre brought a plate of food to Havendar, setting it on the ground under Havendar's face. After Havendar had licked the food off the plate, he called out, "Murlar. Murlar." Ungan started to laugh. Getting up, he walked over to Havendar, "Here is your Murlar."

Ungan laughed the entire time Havendar was drinking. When he was finished, Ungan sat back down by his fellow soldier. Moving was painful but Havendar wanted to hear what the men were saying, so he rolled onto his side facing them while pretending to sleep. It wasn't long before the men started to talk.

"Do you think the army is over Heftar Pass yet?" Laydre asked. Ungan just stared into the fire and shrugged his shoulders. With that, Laydre rolled over and fell asleep. Ungan didn't fall asleep right away. He moved his sleeping roll near a large clump of grass, then propped his head on it as he looked at the stars. As he did so, Havendar could hear Ungan begin to chant. He didn't know what Ungan was doing, but he was sure he was casting a spell of some sort.

# Chapter 10

A sound broke the silence of the night, and before Yron could pull his weapon, he was hit in the chest. Yron tried to collect his senses but was unable to focus. Whatever hit him was wet and smelled like a swamp. Yron quickly rolled to his side, pulled his knife, and crouched, trying to use the starlight to understand the situation. Unable to see anything, Yron knew if he moved, he could be spotted. To the right, beyond his peripheral vision, he could hear something move. He could hear breathing, then a playful yelp.

"Dang it, Ky! You scared me. One of these days..." but the lecture quickly ended, and Yron had to fend off a different type of attack – the ever-stinky dog tongue against his face. Yron was happy to see Ky. Even a wizard's maiggii feels the loss when his Familiar is not near. The choosing of a Familiar is the first major step in a young magic user's life. Only after an apprentice becomes a maiggii, are they allowed to have a Familiar.

It was on his third return trip to the Mascar that Yron was granted the right to choose a Familiar. He remembered Raaj turning to him as they entered the gates of the Mascar, "Yron, have you decided what you are going to choose for a Familiar?"

Yron hadn't given it any thought. A Familiar, he thought with his mind racing. He knew Raaj had an eagle, and he had seen how Raaj had used it to scout ahead, to carry messages over great distances, or stand guard in the trees surrounding their camps. The choosing of a Familiar was one of the most important choices a young maiggii could make.

Once they had set up their camp, Raaj let Yron scout the Familiar pens so he could see what types of Familiars were available this year. There was the usual: weasels, mice, rats, cats, owls, eagles and birds of all types, and, of course, there were dogs and horses; just about any animal you could imagine was represented in the Familiar pens.

Yron spent the rest of the day studying the Familiars. While there, he watched many maiggii make their selection, then stand in line to have the Joining spell cast. The Joining spell was cast on both the maiggii and the prospective Familiar. Once the spell was cast, the maiggii and his Familiar must remain together for the two days or the spell wouldn't take. Yron wondered if the reason for two days was so the maiggii could make sure he or she was compatible with their chosen Familiar.

When Yron returned to the camp, Raaj asked him what he had chosen. "I haven't yet," he responded.

Yron could tell that Raaj was surprised. Yron tried to explain why he hadn't made the selection, but Raaj just nodded.

"Raaj, how long did it take you to select your Familiar?" Yron inquired.

Raaj thought about it, "About an hour, I guess."

"Why did you choose Abinya?" Yron questioned.

"As I walked through the Familiar pens, she chose me. I knew I wanted something I could use to scout ahead, but the decision was made when I entered the bird pens. Abinya left her perch and clung to the wire pen looking at me." Raaj smiled. "What was I to do? She picked me, so I left with her."

Yron thought about what Raaj had said, as he went about fixing the dinner meal. They ate in silence, but when Yron went to clean the dishes, Raaj told him to fetch a manservant to take care of the duties around their camp while they were at the Mascar. When Yron returned, Raaj explained that he had meetings and that Yron needed to attend.

As Raaj was preparing for his meeting, Yron helped the manservant put the plates in a bucket of water, while he waited for Raaj to finish what he was doing in the tent. Raaj was ready to leave as soon as he exited the tent. Shouting to the manservant as they walked away, Raaj explained that there was no need for the manservant to clean anything in the tent.

When they got to where the meetings were being held, Raaj explained to Yron that he would need to wait outside the tent until he was called. It was while Yron waited that he started to play with the small puppies that were racing around. At first the mother dog was tense as he played with her pups, but after a few minutes, she relaxed.

It took half an hour or so before Raaj finally exited the tent with another wizard friend; Yron got up and joined Raaj. He could hear the pair talking.

The wizard pointed toward the mother dog and said, "That is the best Familiar I have ever had, and she went off and bred herself to a coyote! The pups need to be put down, but I just don't have the heart. No one wants a half-breed Familiar, but I brought them anyway, hoping someone here might want a good camp dog."

The men started to walk away as Yron followed. After only a couple of steps, one of the pups grabbed Yron's pant leg and started to pull. Yron reached down and picked up the pup and then sent it on its way. He hadn't walked more than ten yards before the pup was back tugging on his pant leg. Yron reached down to grab the pup, when Raaj's friend announced, "Boy, it looks like you have a new camp dog. He is yours if you want him."

Yron looked at Raaj, and the wizard nodded that it was ok with him. Yron smiled and carried the pup, as they walked to Raaj's next meeting. The next few days of the Mascar were filled with meetings and events that Raaj and Yron were required to attend. With everything going on, Yron was running out of time to find a Familiar.

On the last day of the Mascar, Yron knew if he was going to get a Familiar he would need to find one now. Waking up early, he headed toward the Familiar pens. On his way out of camp, Raaj stopped him to ask where he was going. "I need to find my Familiar," Yron responded. Raaj smiled and said, "Oh, really. Well, good luck." Yron had to tie the pup to one of the tent stakes to keep it from following him.

Raaj watched as Yron headed for the Familiar pens. When he left camp, the puppy started jumping, barking, and yanking against the rope attempting to attract Yron's attention. It was obvious he wanted to go with Yron. Walking over to the puppy to calm him down, Raaj started to scratch the puppy's forehead and under his chin. While this helped calm the puppy, he was still struggling to find a way to escape so he could be with Yron.

"It will be okay," Raaj softly spoke to the puppy, "He will figure it out soon enough."

As Yron looked around, most of the Familiar pens were empty; nothing interested him. After a few minutes of searching, he returned to the camp. "What did you find?" Raaj asked when he returned.

"Nothing. All the pens are empty. Maybe next year," Yron replied, a little disappointed.

Yron looked over to find the puppy was completely beside himself. The small pup was pulling against the ropes holding him to the stake, and then with one jumping, twisting backflip, the puppy spun out of the rope collar and raced over, jumping, and barking at Yron. Scooping up the puppy, Yron headed back toward the Familiar pens. He had been chosen, and he knew it.

Raaj waited for the sun to top the trees before he woke Darmuth. It was time to catch up with Yron. Raaj didn't need to look around to know that Ky had already left to find Yron. They ate a quick breakfast then Darmuth and Raaj headed down the old road. He was surprised how much it had overgrown over the years. If it wasn't for the deer trail and the occasional indentations from long ago wagon wheels, he wouldn't even be able to follow the road.

Yron had covered his trail well. Raaj could tell something had passed this way recently, but if he didn't know it was Yron, he would have believed it was deer traveling down the trail. Without the markers Yron used to show the path he had taken, Raaj wouldn't have been able to track him. Raaj knew it was important for him to find and dispel the markers Yron used as he found them. He didn't want someone who might be tracking them to spot one that he had missed.

Ky's ears pricked up, indicating that Raaj and Darmuth were approaching the camp. Had it been anyone else, Ky would have sounded an alarm with a low growl and the hair on his neck bristling. Looking at the sky to determine the time, Yron smiled. They were arriving about the time he expected. Yron packed up his belongings, broke down the camp, and was ready to leave when the two arrived.

"Let's go," Raaj said as he took the lead.

Raaj inspected Yron's camp. Yron had covered his presence quite sufficiently. He is learning very nicely and quickly, too, Raaj thought. The ranger ways were not one of Yron's favorite lessons, but he was diligent in his studies. Yron was as good, if not better than Raaj. Raaj knew he needed to report this to Grand Master Noblem at their next meeting. They were always interested in how the maiggiis were doing, especially his young maiggii.

Raaj wasn't sure how long it would take to get through the forest to the prairie land to the north where the remains of Berthur Nor stood, but he knew it would be at least a two-day ride. Hoping the cover of the forest would provide an uneventful trip, the events of the day provided him reason to sustain that hope. Other than the occasional sounds of one of the wild animals that had moved off the trail to avoid contact with their party, nothing happened. There were a few little birds and small game that he spotted, reminding Raaj that he needed to feed Abinya when they reached the evening camp. He doubted the eagle would have been able to catch any food this deep in the forest.

Heftar Pass! Havendar was right: the Shakarine planned to attack Yemenites' western flank. He knew if the Shakarine army had built the ramp that allowed them to scale the cliff that protected the High Plains from the north, once they cleared Heftar Pass, the Shakarine would cross the northern plains unnoticed and attack the castle without warning.

Havendar estimated the Shakarine were seven, eight, or maybe nine days away from their attack. It had been years since the Yemenites felt any need to place scouts or guards on their western front; there would be no warning of the Shakarine attack on the Yemenite Castle. The King and his armies were four days hard march away from the castle. Without the armies, the castle wouldn't be able to withstand a massive attack on its walls. The western side of the High Plains and the Yemenite Kingdom's only protection was the towering cliffs.

Havendar realized that the Shakarine must have built another ramp at Heftar Pass. This would give them total access to Yemenee. From what Havendar had seen with the access ramp to Ranker Thor, the Shakarine wouldn't be able to bring the large catapults, or any other heavy assault weaponry, to attack the castle. But the element of surprise, along with the missing garrison, would allow the Shakarine to quickly defeat the Yemenites. It was crucial that Havendar find a way to warn the King.

Havendar didn't hear much of what the Shakarine guards discussed, but he was able to learn they weren't taking him to the main garrison. From their discussion, it became clear to Havendar that his captors were headed to the camp of one of the other armies preparing to attack one of the southern kingdoms on the central plains.

Havendar discovered that the Shakarine had created alliances with several of the kingdoms south of the High Plains and were planning a joint attack. The Cascaid – citizens of a Kingdom along the western coastline – were planning to attack the shipping lanes in the west. Their objective was to stop the supply lines to the coastal allies of the High Plains Kingdoms.

Sometime before midnight, the Shakarine guards fell asleep. This gave Havendar more time to rub the wooden board strapped between his hands against the ropes. He believed that if he could break the rope that bound his hands to the rope around his neck, he could free himself. He had been working on this for several days, but his inability to see what he was doing made the task difficult. Sometime during the night, Havendar fell asleep.

By mid-morning, Havendar could see nothing but the outstretched plains. As morning turned into late afternoon, Havendar could make out a rocky outcropping that appeared to be their destination. By nightfall, they were only a few miles away, but instead of stopping to camp and rest, they rode on. In the distance, Havendar could see a few campfires.

It was nearly midnight when they arrived at the small camp. "Evendar's Pleasant!" Ungan shouted the password as they approached the Shakarine camp. Havendar could see the guards lower their bows. Havendar counted fifty, maybe fifty-five men. Their horses were tied to the north side of the camp, and six or seven guards were posted around the perimeter of the camp.

Meat was roasting on a spit in the middle of the camp. As the guards rode into camp, they were greeted by a large man with a two-handed sword hanging from his hip. After barking orders, two men came and grabbed the rope from Laydre, and they led Havendar to the other side of the camp.

There, Havendar discovered he was not the only prisoner. The new guard pushed him to the ground, pressing his knee into Havendar's back, as they cut the ropes away from his hands. His freedom from the ropes was short-lived; the rope tethers were replaced with metal shackles. The shackles were attached to a chain staked to the ground.

Havendar was one of four prisoners, three men, and one woman. Two guards were watching the prisoners. They were attached to the chain, that stretched across the ground, and were spaced far enough apart that they couldn't touch each other.

When the guard left, Havendar whispered to one of the other prisoners, "How long have you been here?" Havendar used one of the southern languages he learned years ago. The prisoner next to him looked up and started to respond.

Immediately, one of the guards shouted, "Silence!"

Havendar looked at the guard then turning back to the prisoner asked, "How long have you been here?"

Again, the guard shouted, "Silence!"

Havendar didn't want the guard to know he understood what they said, so he asked the question again.

This time the guard got up and walked toward Havendar shouting, "Silence!" As he did so, he cuffed Havendar, knocking him to the ground.

Havendar looked at the guard then asked him what he had done wrong. It was clear from the guard's expression that he was unable to understand what Havendar was saying.

Looking straight at the guard, Havendar attempted to talk to the guard again, "Prisoner, if you can understand what I am saying, move your right foot." Havendar requested. The guard shouted, for "Silence!" again. As he raised his hand to strike, Havendar ducked. In doing so, he saw the other prisoner move his right foot.

Havendar looked at the guard, raised his hand in submission, then rolled over, and sat on the ground. He knew in time that he would be able to talk with the other prisoner, but right now, it was late. Havendar lie down on the ground, facing the guard, raising his hands to his head for a pillow. The motion also allowed him to stealthily check the small pocket under his arm where the sleeve attached itself to the remaining shirt; he was glad to feel the small finger dagger still tucked in its pocket.

Looking around the camp, Havendar knew if he was going to escape, he would have to find a way soon. It took a couple of hours for the second guard to fall asleep. Havendar attempted to talk to the other prisoner again, but he had fallen asleep. For the remainder of the night, Havendar watched the camp. He observed how they changed guards, and he tried to understand the chain of command, and who was coming and going.

From what he could see, there was no alcohol in the camp. If there was, no one was drinking on this night. Across camp from where he lay, were the camp supplies, along with the water. To the west was where they cooked, and to the east seemed to be a training arena.

This camp had been here for a while. On the ground, were distinct walking paths, and the horse and yak manure was obviously being carted away from camp and dumped someplace else, because he was unable to smell it. The water troughs for the animals had been there long enough that weeds were growing around the barrels.

Next to the supply wagons, stood a shed that stored saddles. Each garrison member had a specific place to sleep. Havendar watched as Laydre and Ungan were assigned to their quarters. His former guards' horses were tied to the outside of the horse corral. Havendar thought to himself, They must be heading out soon, and he wondered if he would be leaving with them.
Chapter 11

Two days travel through the old woods brought Raaj, Yron, and Darmuth to the forest's edge. At Raaj's direction, Yron climbed one of the towering old cedar trees to get a better look at the surroundings and what obstacles may lie ahead. From his perch among the tallest branches, he could see the entire valley, including the old Yemenite castle.

Something was amiss... Yron could feel it. He couldn't see anything unusual, but there was an uncanny quietness about the area nonetheless. Over the years, Yron had learned to trust his instincts in times like this; he had a knack for seeing what wasn't obvious. Unfortunately, there was nothing tangible to support his suspicions, nothing overtly out of place in the valley below. Then, just as he was preparing to climb down the tree, he spotted something move in one of the towers of the old castle. Initially, he could only see one man. Eventually, a second scout came into view.

To the east of the castle, vultures were devouring the carcass of a large animal. Too big to be a deer, Yron surmised that it had to be something domestic – a cow, a horse or something similar. Yron watched for another hour without seeing anything else that seemed unusual.

While Yron had been searching the prairie, Raaj had taken care of the horses. He removed their packs and made sure they all had food to eat and something to drink. After inspecting Darmuth's horse, he knew it had healed enough that Darmuth could start riding it again.

"There are at least two people in the towers of the old castle," Yron reported as he dropped to the ground from the lowest tree branch. "It is obvious they do not want to be seen. To the east of the castle, there is a dead animal the vultures are eating."

Raaj nodded, "How were the men in the tower dressed?"

"I couldn't see much, but I did not recognize their clothing," Yron replied. "It appeared that they were scouts, rangers, or archers. They were not wearing heavy armor, but they were soldiers of some type."

Raaj called Abinya, his Familiar; he knew he needed to get a closer look. The eagle landed momentarily on Raaj's arm, then flew to the top of a nearby tree. Yron could see her perched on one of the highest limbs of the cedar. After a few minutes, the Familiar lifted off and flew skyward. Yron watched where Abinya was flying, but Raaj could see what the eagle was seeing.

Yron climbed up the tree so that he could observe Abinya. Yron smiled; if he hadn't known, there would be no way he could tell that Raaj's Familiar was spying on the landscape. Circling above the field, catching the updrafts, it flew closer and closer to the old castle. Moments later, Raaj saw what his Familiar had spotted in the grass below. Dropping from three hundred feet, the eagle dove to the ground. A few minutes later, it was in flight gaining altitude, but this time it carried some small game in its claws.

Yron watched as the eagle landed on one of the towers and began eating its catch. After fifteen or twenty minutes, Abinya left the tower and returned to flying in circles, slowly heading to the west. Climbing down the tree, Yron swung on one of the lower limbs and landed near Raaj.

"What did you see?" Yron asked.

"Two men, all right," Raaj replied. "They have been there for several days. The carcass you saw to the east is a dead horse. Inside the castle, are two dead bodies that appear to be Yemenite scouts, or at least that is what the insignias on their leather armor indicate. The men in the tower are watching to the east, perhaps acting as a front guard. I have sent Abinya west. Perhaps he will see something."

The group set up a small camp and broke out some cold rations to eat. Every few minutes, Raaj checked on his Familiar. "We will head toward Yemenor as soon as night falls. We are lucky since the moons will rise late tonight; the guards will never see us leave," Raaj announced.

Yron pulled out his bedroll and decided to rest while he had the chance. There was no way he would be able to work on the Inset box here. There was also no time to set up the forge and smith the plithim liner that needed to go on the outside the Inset.

"Raaj," Yron whispered, "do you think that when the Inset Box spell was cast on the animals, the spirit essences of those animals may have been absorbed into the plithim liner that surrounded the box? Perhaps the plithim over time absorbs the life essence like an Inset spell."

Raaj didn't say a word. Yron couldn't tell whether Raaj was thinking about what he had asked or if he was viewing through his Familiar. Either way, Yron didn't want to interrupt his Master. After fifteen minutes, Yron lay down and closed his eyes.

"You have never learned to be patient and wait for an answer," Raaj stated."You never give someone time to think. Patience must be learned."

Yron rolled on his side looking at Raaj, "I was just trying..." Yron stammered for his words, "I was trying to see if, with additional pondering, I could answer my question while I waited for your answer. Additionally, I figured it would take a while for you to answer because you were scouting with Abinya."

Raaj grunted, "You still need patience."

Darmuth followed Yron's lead and set out his bedroll and fell asleep. Yron lay there for a few more minutes and dozed off as well. He knew they would be leaving at nightfall, so now would be a good time to rest. Raaj would spend the remainder of the day scouting with Abinya to the west and thus would not be getting any rest.

As the sun lifted over the edge of the distant mountains, Havendar could see more of the camp than he had been able to the night before. Off to the right were several small lodges and other buildings. In the light of day, he realized he had vastly underestimated the size of the camp. He could see hundreds of tents nestled together in a small ravine off to his left. Throughout the camp, people were busy fixing breakfast and preparing for the new day.

Havendar could tell that the guards were aware that he was awake. Turning his back to them, he sat up. He wanted to take as much of a mental note of the camp and the surrounding area as he could in the event the guards were going to restrict them from moving around. So far so good, Havendar thought when the expected shout of anger didn't come. After a couple of minutes, Havendar stood, still with no response from the guard.

With his hands shackled in front of him, Havendar was evaluating what it would take to escape: picking the lock binding his wrists, finding a horse, avoiding any pursuit on the open prairie, finding food, and water. The obvious problem seems to be the most difficult. Unless he could pick the locks on the shackles, he was going nowhere.

Resigned to just observing, Havendar could see this was not merely an outpost camp as he had initially suspected but rather a small village. Off in the distance, he could see shops, stables, and hundreds of houses. Surrounding the village were several hundred tents. The Shakarine army had made this an outpost, using an existing village as its base.

To the south, was a massive arena. Havendar winced as the rumors he had heard quickly became a reality. The Shakarine, always thought to be a bloodthirsty people, were said to force their captives to fight for their lives as a sort of grotesque form of entertainment. It was becoming increasingly apparent that Havendar had been selected as one of their latest recruits. Looking at the other prisoners, three soldiers and a woman, he could tell they were also likely arena participants. Havendar could tell by the clothing that the woman wore that she was a Warteen barbarian.

The Warteen was a society where women dominated; women ruled and served in the army. Men took on the roles that the women performed in the male dominated societies.

Throughout the morning and then again in the afternoon, people walked by and inspected the prisoners. This only increased Havendar's suspicions that they were going to be used as arena slaves. By nightfall, three more prisoners had been attached to the chain. Havendar wanted to talk with the Warteen warrior, but the rule of silence was enforced with a whip. Even making a sound evoked the guard's wrath. Time was running out for Havendar. With each hour he grew more frantic, slowly he began losing his practiced calm. He needed to escape. He needed to warn King Timon.

The next morning saw the arrival of five more prisoners attached to the rail of a wagon. Instead of adding these new captives to the chain, the guards detached the barbarian woman from the chain and reconnected to her to the rail of a wagon. One by one, the guards moved the prisoners from the chain to the wagon rail. When they unhooked Havendar, he simultaneously drove his knee up and pushed the head of the guard down onto his knee. Before anyone knew what was happening, Havendar had broken free.

He could feel the guard go limp from the blow. Swinging his elbow back, Havendar caught another unsuspecting guard in the chest, knocking the wind out of him. His shackles were attached to six feet of chain. Without the possibility of grabbing a weapon, he grabbed the chain and swung it over his head, as he attacked the remaining two guards. Knocking the sword out of one of the guards' hands with the chain, he spun around swiftly, successfully directing the chain across the other guard's neck and back.

As the fourth guard fell to the ground, several of the prisoners attached to the wagon began to pull on the wagon rail until they had broken it from the wagon. They were joining the escape. Havendar spun around, looking for the fifth guard, but he was nowhere in sight. Then, off to his left, a horn blasted – the fifth guard had sounded a warning cry. Soldiers raced toward the top of the knoll where the prisoners were being held. Havendar realized that his attempt at an escape was pointless and surrendered peacefully.

Within seconds, the well-trained soldiers had the knoll surrounded. Havendar was attached to the wagon, as were the remaining prisoners and the four guards Havendar had subdued in his escape attempt. Havendar cursed his bad luck. If only he had been able to get to that fifth guard before he had sounded the alarm! He was puzzled as to why he wasn't being punished for his crime. He would soon find out why...

Once the new guards had the situation firmly under control, they surrounded the wagon. The driver of the wagon slapped the reigns on the back of the horses and the wagon, lurched forward. The prisoners were pulled alongside.

"Silly ranger," the female barbarian whispered to Havendar. "I know your kind. You rangers are all alike: muscle-bound, headstrong, and egocentric." Havendar didn't say a word; he continued to walk alongside the wagon as though he didn't hear her.

"You don't fool me! I see your tattoo; I know who you are. I know you can understand me," she continued. Havendar didn't know whether to acknowledge her accusation or ignore her. He had no chance to decide, when one of the guards slapped her in the back with the flat of his sword, ordering her to silence.

The wagon continued to an auction yard where the slaves for sale were placed on display for the clamoring crowds. By midday, the bidding had commenced. The first to be sold were the soldiers that Havendar has subdued. Next was the barbarian woman. The auctioneer announced that she was the first woman that they had ever auctioned. The crowd responded accordingly with catcalls and jeers. Unsurprisingly, the bidding on her was very lively. Finally, it was Havendar's turn.

When Havendar was escorted by Laydre to the forefront of the stage, the auctioneer described his attempt to escape, detailing his boldness and strength. The tale seemed to increase the bidders' interest in him. Havendar wasn't flattered; the thought of being auctioned in a slave yard overwhelmed him with anger. He fought against the restraints only to find that his struggles intensified the bidding as well.

"Over there, in the corner, we have five hundred Pyra, do I hear five hundred fifty?" cried the auctioneer.

The stable master was waiting at the King's tent the next morning when he awoke. "Your Majesty, here are the arrowheads from Havendar's horse."

The King inspected them and noted that they were crossbow bolts. The crossbow bolts explained everything; Havendar had been ambushed.

"The horse will be fine, Your Majesty. What do you want me to do with it?" the stable master queried.

The King looked up from the crossbow bolts that he held in his hand. "Tend to it until his master returns," the King replied.

Walking back into the tent, The King turned to one of his messengers and ordered, "Get my War Council ready. We need to make plans." The messenger left immediately to gather the members of the Council. The King strode across the room to the map that was stretched across the table. Studying it, he wondered, where could the Shakarine be and what are they planning? While he stared at the outstretched map, members of his War Council began arriving at the tent.

Within a few minutes, the entire Council had gathered, except Lord Captain Ranth, whom the King had sent on the special mission to see what happened to Havendar. "We are blind. We have no idea where the Shakarine are. We only know they are not attacking us here," the King explained. "This means we need to be ready to move the army quickly."

The council members nodded agreement. "Prepare the army to march and make sure we have enough marching rations. See that everyone who can rests. Get the wagons loaded. We need to be ready to move," the King ordered. "Are there any questions or suggestions?" he asked.

No one commented. "One more thing," the King added. "Last night, the ranger, Havendar's, horse arrived back here at camp. We cannot expect him to be helping us find the Shakarine. He was ambushed and is presumed dead."

While Yron was resting, Raaj decided to get a closer look at the dead horse. Working his way through the tall grass to get to the side of the horse, took several hours, but Raaj knew he hadn't been spotted. When the wizard arrived at the gruesome scene, he believed the horse belonged to one of the King Timon's scouts.

There were several arrows in its side and hindquarters, which was clearly cause of death. A hundred feet to the side and hidden under a shallow pile of rocks lay a dead scout. It appeared to Raaj that the scout was headed back toward the castle when he was attacked by someone from the west. Whatever the scout had seen had died with him, and the Yemenites were unaware of what he had found.

Raaj headed back to camp, checking in on his Familiar every fifteen to twenty minutes. What is happening to the west? he wondered. Before the wizard arrived at the camp, the magnitude of what he was seeing through Abinya's eyes explained why the scout had been killed.

Gently shaking Yron to get his attention, Raaj whispered urgently, "Yron, get up now!"

Raaj motioned for Yron to follow him a short distance from the camp. "The Shakarine army is two, maybe three day's march from here. Abinya spotted them on the plains to the west. I have no idea how they got there, but they are traveling light and moving fast. You need to warn the Yemenite Castle and get a message to King Timon immediately. There is no time to waste."

Yron tried to ask Raaj questions, but the older man waved him off. "No time for questions. I need to write a dispatch, and you need to get ready. You must ride straight through."

Yron grabbed a pack with travel rations and a pouch of water and slung them over his shoulder. After filling the feed and water bag for Tristina to eat and drink before their journey, Yron returned to Raaj. By the time he arrived, Raaj had written two dispatches; one that Yron was to deliver to the Captain of the Guard at Yemenor and the other for King Timon himself.

As Raaj handed the dispatches to Yron, he explained that Yron didn't have any time to waste. "Go out on to the prairie and head for Yemenor as fast as Tristina can take you! Don't worry about the guards in the tower. They are out of range, and there is no way their horses can catch you." Handing the dispatches to Yron, Raaj grabbed him by the shoulder and looked him in the eye, "I am depending on you. I need you. Yemenee needs you."

Yron mounted Tristina, and within moments he was at the clearing's edge, riding with all speed alongside the forest. Yron didn't have time to pack the Inset box or any of his other belongings, but he knew Raaj wouldn't leave anything behind. As he looked over his shoulder to where he had emerged from the tree line, he could see Ky standing forlornly, watching him ride off. Yron hated to leave him there, but this time he had no choice.
Chapter 12

"Sold, to Master Blantuff for seventy-five hundred pyra!" The crowd erupted; it had been a long time since a slave was sold for so much. Excited about their payday, Laydre and Ungan were offering to buy everyone drinks. As Havendar was led off the platform, he realized the barbarian, woman warrior was chained in the same wagon to which they were taking him. The same man must have bought them both.

Indeed, Havendar shackled in the wagon next to the Warteen warrior. As he sat down, she asked, "So, Ranger, will you talk with me now?" Looking around to make sure no one was listening, Havendar replied to her in her native language.

"What value does talking to you provide me?" Havendar asked in frustration. "You can no more escape than I can."

"We will have plenty of time to escape – later. What is important here is that we live," she said. "Tarrie... Tarrie."

"Tarrie, what is Tarrie?" queried Havendar.

"Tarrie is my name," she replied. "And yours?"

"Havendar."

"Well, Havendar, you have just been sold as an arena slave. You will fight in the arena until your master either sets you free or sells you to someone else because you have lost your usefulness." Tarrie continued matter-of-factly, "Here in the local markets they do not kill the slaves in the arena, but if you lose a battle they will cut a scar on your cheek for everyone to see. When you face someone in the arena, and they have no scars, they are either new or good. Very good."

"How do you know so much about the arena?" Havendar inquired, warming slightly to the conversation.

"A few weeks ago," she explained, "I was the Ambassador of the Warteen to the Shakarine. It was my job to coordinate the war efforts between our two nations. Everything was going well until the assassination attempt on King Timon's youngest son failed. Now, the Shakarine are holding me personally responsible and have sent me to the arena for our failed assignment. I have seen many arena battles. If you listen, I will teach you how to survive the arena until we can plan our escape," Tarrie concluded.

"But I must escape now," Havendar declared firmly. "I have responsibilities to my King and his people!"

"You will be too late, even if you escape tonight. The attack is only a couple of days away," Tarrie replied. "We, who once were enemies, must now be allies – at least you and me. Our kingdoms are at war, but we don't have to be."

Havendar took a deep, calming breath as he realized she was right. Admittedly intrigued, he reassessed the young woman before him. She certainly does not look the part of an ambassador, Havendar thought to himself. Like the other prisoners, Tarrie was covered with a thin layer of dust from the road. Her clothes and shoes were worn, and her auburn hair was wound into dreadlocks, likely out of necessity, he mused. No mirrors, brushes, or servants out here. The, arrogant, Warteen Barbarian didn't have any evidence to support her lofty, supposed background – she looked and was treated, just like everyone else in this miserable land. "An ambassador? You're too young," Havendar stated, finally responding to her initial claim with the most dignified argument he had considered.

"Not too young when you are the Queen's daughter," Tarrie stated with a mischievous smile.

Unimpressed and still experiencing disbelief at the entire situation, Havendar turned away and didn't say another word. What was there to say? He had failed King Timon. There was nothing he could do to provide a warning to his people, and now he was trapped in the wagon cell with a woman that had just revealed the details of her Kingdom's attempt to assassinate the King's youngest son.

"Why did you want to assassinate the King's son?" Havendar finally asked, determined to learn as much as he could.

"It was a distraction. His oldest son was killed in battle. Your King hasn't been able to bury him or grieve. If we had killed the last heir to his throne, we believe it would have been enough of a distraction for us to get our armies in place to attack and defeat the Western Kingdoms of the High Plains," Tarrie explained.

Havendar started to ask another question, but one of the guards swung his whip, striking Havendar in the back. "Silence, you pig!" he shouted.

Havendar stared straight ahead. He had only just realized the attack on the High Plains was a full-scale attack from both the north and the south.

Yron ducked behind Tristina's neck as the Payleen raced at full speed along the tree line, occasionally looking back over his shoulder to see if anyone was following. From what he could tell, he had escaped unnoticed. Fortunately, there were several hours of sunlight left, and Yron figured he would make the most of the daylight while it lasted.

He couldn't travel as fast at night until the moons had risen. Once the moonlight reflected against the ground, however, he could cast the Moonbeam spell, thus giving him the ability to see as well as he could in the daytime. He knew that riding his Payleen as fast as he was without the Moonbeam spell, would be dangerous – too dangerous to take the chance.

Even though the Payleen ran above the ground, they were not immune to rock outcroppings, a log lying across the path, or any other obstacle that could injure a horse. Additionally, Yron needed to be able to see the terrain, so he could ride without losing his balance and falling from her back.

Yron rode through the night. As the sun's light began to spread across the skies, he stopped chanting the Moonbeam spell. Yron was relieved to see the sun's rays; it was difficult to concentrate on the chant and the terrain while maintaining his balance on the Payleen, especially being as tired as he was.

Raaj waited for nightfall to wake Darmuth. There was no need to wake the Prince any earlier than necessary. After all, they couldn't leave their place of hiding and head for Yemenor until it was dark enough to sneak past the tower guards.

Upon waking, Darmuth was decidedly angry as Raaj explained all that had happened while the young Prince had slept. Raaj wisely kept his mouth shut while Darmuth ranted about his noble right and how making such decisions, without his knowledge, was completely unacceptable. When Darmuth finished, Raaj silently tossed the Prince something to eat.

While Darmuth ate his food, Raaj loaded the Payleen and prepared them to depart. This gave him time to calm down and prevented him from telling the young Prince exactly what he thought. When Darmuth finished eating, they mounted their rides and, to keep hidden from scouts in the tower, they rode slowly alongside the tree line for the next hour, hiding in the shadows of the forest.

Once they had ridden far enough to be out of sight, Raaj picked up the pace. It wasn't until the moons had risen above the treetops, and the Prince's sullen demeanor had somewhat lessened that Raaj asked, "Darmuth, can your horse find its way back to Yemenor?"

"Why do you ask?" Darmuth questioned.

"We can't be slowed by your horse. These Payleen are bred to run for days without rest. Your horse isn't," Raaj responded. "We must ride as fast as we can. Let go of your horse's reins." Without waiting for an answer or argument, Raaj urged Verser on. The packhorses followed. Darmuth realized he had no choice but to let go of the reins of his horse and follow Raaj, or be left behind. For a while, his horse bravely attempted to keep up, but after the first hour, Darmuth could no longer see the animal in their wake. Darmuth wondered if his horse would indeed find its way back to Yemenor.

Raaj was surprised at how well the assassins' pack Payleen kept pace with Verser. Additionally, Darmuth was beginning to get used to riding the Payleen, so from Raaj's calculations, the ragtag group would arrive in Yemenor by late afternoon on the second day, a good twelve to fourteen hours after Yron would have notified the city of the impending attack.

Raaj calculated that it would take Yron two additional days to get to Ranker Thor. Unfortunately, Yron wouldn't arrive in time to give the King and his army the ability to return to Yemenor to defend against the imminent attack, but at least the King would know what was happening, and that the Inset spell materials were on their way.

It had been years since Raaj had been in Yemenor. The last time he'd seen the city was the year the Mascar and the apprentice's fair had been held outside the castle walls. It was also the year he selected Yron to be his maiggii.

Lost in his memories, Raaj recalled the day he was introduced to Yron. It was six years ago when Yron was ten years old – just a young, country boy, quiet and unassuming, who had been sent to try to become an apprentice. By the time Raaj met Yron, the boy had caused quite a stir, not just with the weavers but with the rangers as well.

Raaj had used his political sway to ensure he could lay claim to the young man if he chose to be a wizard. He had stood in the back when Yron tried out for the Healers, watching how quickly Yron picked up each chant. He observed how he understood, even at such a young age, the importance of pronouncing the words precisely. Not only that but he instinctively understood the cadence of the healer's spell, finding the rhythm of the words.

By the end of the third day, Yron was clearly vacillating between the wizards and the rangers. Raaj decided he needed to do something before Yron chose the ranger life. He remembered approaching Yron, pulling back his hood, and saying, "Fine. I will take him as my maiggii. Boy, come with me."

Yron was confused, and while he hadn't decided which disciple he was going to pursue, standing there more stunned than aware, Yron began to gather his thoughts. Maiggii? What is a maiggii? Yron wondered as the wizard walked away.

It was a bold move, Raaj knew, but he didn't have the time or the social mannerism to court the young man. It was hard to resist the temptation of trying to convince the young man that it would be best for him if he chose to be his maiggii – all the reasons it would be a good choice, but he had made his move and was determined to stay the course. Turning as though he expected the young man to follow, Raaj walked away.

Raaj listened carefully to hear if the young man was following; he heard nothing. He assumed that when he turned the corner to head back toward his camp, he would be able to see the boy was following out of the corner of his eye. Glancing back discreetly, Raaj didn't see any sign that Yron was following. The old wizard sighed and thought about what to do next. The Mascar went another day; he would have to think of his next steps if he still believed this young man could one day become his predecessor.

The next morning, Raaj went looking for the young Yron. By noon, the wizard hadn't found anyone that had seen the boy. Raaj had meetings he had to attend, so he continued to look for Yron later. When the meetings broke for lunch, Raaj headed back to the Mascar, but many in the Mascar camp were beginning to pack up. Someone else must have encouraged Yron to become their apprentice, he thought. I've missed my chance. With a sigh, Raaj returned to the afternoon meetings, deciding he would pack his things later. After an exhausting day of meetings, Raaj headed back to his camp. To his surprise, there, sitting on a log by the campfire with his bags packed, was Yron.

As he approached the fire that Yron had made, Raaj caught the scent of something delicious sizzling over the flame. Raaj looked to see what it was; Yron explained, "It's your dinner."

It took a moment for Raaj to respond, as he took in the unexpected sight. "I think you have gotten the wrong impression. I didn't ask you to follow me so you could be my manservant."

Yron looked around confused, and asked, "Did I misunderstand?"

"I asked you to follow me so I could train you in the art of magic," Raaj continued with a smile.

Before Raaj could make another move, Yron had jumped from the log he was sitting on and gave him a big hug. "Thank you!" the young boy whispered into Raaj's ear with tears streaming down his cheeks.

King Timon stood at the entrance of his tent, watching the sun break over the horizon. Across the valley, he could see the soldiers rising to begin their day. There was something solemn about soldiers preparing, not knowing what the day would bring. King Timon breathed a sigh of relief; at least today, no one would die.

Across camp, King Timon could see a rider approaching. Obviously, the guards had cleared him and, from his direction of travel, the King knew the rider was heading for his tent. Realizing the messenger must have been traveling all night, the King ordered food and drink to be prepared. By the time the rider arrived at the tent, food and hot ale were sitting on the table just outside the tent.

The messenger dismounted his horse and bowed slightly. The guards parted to allow the rider to approach, as the King motioned him forward. The man spoke wearily, "Your Majesty, King Holben's castle is under attack. Additionally, we received word three days ago that three other castles are under siege, not just from Shakarine but the Warteen as well. Here is the dispatch from King Holben."

King Timon took the dispatch and read it carefully. He understood the need to send help immediately. "Get me Lord Myningar," the King demanded of one of his guards. Turning to the rider, he said, "Eat, drink, and then rest. You must have ridden all night. Once you have eaten, one of the guards will provide a bedroll and a tent."

"But, Sire, I need to return," the rider explained.

"You need to return with an answer. You will not have my reply until after you have rested. In the meantime, we will decide what we can do," the King responded.

Mulling over the discussion, the King turned and stepped inside his tent. As the King knelt to pray, his mind focused on Darmuth. He knew Grand Master Raaj would keep the boy safe, but he was surprised that it had been over two weeks since his young son left to bring the Master back.

As he finished his prayer, he heard Lord Myningar enter the tent. Clearly, the Lord had rushed to the King's side with all haste; he hadn't taken the time to put on his armor. The need for immediate assistance must have been apparent to the great warrior. The King handed Myningar the dispatch and waited for his response. Lord Myningar's brow furrowed as he read the message. Assassins had killed two of King Holben's sons. The King's army could hold the castle, but their supplies were low, and they could not hold out against a long siege. "Who delivered the dispatch?" Myningar asked.

"It was a maiggii to one of the rangers. He hasn't received his markings yet, but I could tell he has been trained," the King responded. "I have sent him to rest. We need to tell him what we will do when he wakes, so he can return."

Both men stood looking at the map on the table in silence. King Timon was the first to speak. "We can send a portion of the army. They could be there in four days with a forced march."

Myningar nodded. "If we only knew where the Shakarine army was. None of the scouts have returned with any news, but we expect to hear something from a few of them today."

"Myningar, what do we do?" the King asked. "If we do nothing, Holben will be defeated, and the enemy will have a stronghold in the High Plains. If we send a portion of the army, we may not have a sufficient army to defeat the Shakarine here."

"I would suggest that we send fifteen hundred longbow archers, five hundred men carrying pike poles, and three thousand soldiers. Provide them with Healers, two Earth Druids, and an Illusionist," Myningar responded. "That small of a force might be able to get to the city without being detected. Then send wagons with enough supplies to relieve the city. Have the wagons follow the army by two days. That will give us enough time to prepare safe passage to the castle."

The King nodded, "That should work. Make sure a dispatch is written explaining the plan. Once the ranger's maiggii is awake, send him back immediately with the message. Myningar, you lead the attack force." Myningar nodded and left the tent. King Timon decided he needed to send scouts out; he wanted to understand how the enemy was positioned and what they were doing. Damn, if only Havendar were here, he said to himself. This is precisely his strong suit. The King's added plea was simple: Please, God, don't let him be dead.

The scouts left immediately, and by noon, Myningar had his army heading east toward Holben.

# Chapter 13

The sunlight reinvigorated Yron's spirit. Tristina seemed to feel the same way. Without urging, the Payleen began to ride harder. In the light, Yron could see a road about half a mile off to his left. Yron guided Tristina in that direction, as he knew they could travel faster on the road than they had been across the plains.

Once on the road, Yron allowed Tristina to run all out. After a couple of hours, he knew he had to be approaching Yemenor because the farms were getting smaller and closer together. Several roads had merged with the thoroughfare, and he had started to ride past more traffic. Initially, he passed only an occasional wagon carrying produce to market, but eventually, there were other travelers as well.

It was easier to keep his balance when Tristina was in full gallop, but by the time Yron could see the castle, he had to slow down and ride on the edge of the road. The foot traffic along the road made it impossible for him to travel safely at such a high speed. Looking ahead, Yron could see the road followed alongside a stream. He knew the quickest way to the castle would be to cut across the plains, forge the river, and head directly to the main gate.

The stream was deeper and faster than he had expected when he started to cross. Tristina was completely exhausted, and she couldn't swim directly across the stream. By the time they arrived at the other side, they washed downstream five or six hundred yards. Emerging on the opposite bank, Yron was soaked to his shoulders and freezing.

Urging Tristina on, Yron pushed the young mare toward the main gate of the castle. When Yron approached the gate, he could see the guards checking the wagons and talking with travelers who wanted to enter the city. Yron marveled at the location of Yemenor Castle. He knew most castles backed up against a mountain or some other obstacle, which provided defense from any attack on one or two sides. Yemenor, however, was in the middle of the plains. To the north, was a marshy area that provided the surrounding farms with a source of water, but on the other three sides, the castle was free from obstacles that would hinder an enemy attack.

Yron could see catapults mounted on the sides of the walls. He had never noticed them before, but there was no time to assess the defense properties of the castle. He had to deliver his dispatch and head on to Ranker Thor. At the gate, Yron immediately dismounted and called for the guard. One of the guards looked up and ordered him to get in line.

Casting a Charm spell, Yron approached a second time. This time, the guard was much more helpful. "I have a dispatch for the Captain of the Guard. Send someone to get him immediately." The two guards upon which Yron didn't cast the spell turned and drew their swords. Oops, Yron thought as he stepped back, I guess I should have made that spell a little stronger.

"I have an emergency dispatch," he declared.

"Show your credentials!" one of the guards bellowed.

This was already not going well, and Yron knew it. Looking around, Yron could see all the guards beginning to rally. "Please just get the Captain of the Guard." Yron knew there was no time for this, and he started to reach into one of the pouches on Tristina's back for the dispatch.

"There is no need for that, boy," the head guard said. "Just give me the dispatch, and I will make sure the Captain gets it.

"I am sorry, sir. I have orders to give this to the Captain of the Guard. Prince Darmuth and Master Raajanaar will be here within a day and..." By the way the guards immediately stiffened at the young Prince's name, Yron knew he had said the wrong thing.

"Darmuth? You are traveling with Darmuth? That is impossible. The Prince is at Ranker Thor, and you just arrived from the opposite direction. Arrest this spy!"

The guards quickly surrounded Yron, some with crossbows aimed at his heart. Yron slowly lifted his hands in the air. In his left hand, he had the dispatch for the Captain of the Guard; in his right sleeve, his Crowl dagger. The head guard reached for the dispatch, and as he did, Yron dropped the message, grabbing the head guard by the arm. Yron swung him around, as the dagger slipped from his sleeve into his hand and rested against the head guard's throat.

"I think it is time you have someone get the Captain of the Guard," Yron whispered into his ear. The guard immediately called for someone to fetch the Captain, the panic in his voice evident.

Yron had planned on keeping the head guard as a hostage until the Captain of the Guard arrived, but he decided a better use of his time would be to negotiate a truce. Whispering in the guard's ear, he said, "This can end two ways. The Captain of the Guard will arrive, and I will be standing here holding you at knifepoint, or I can let you go, and we can wait here together for him. If I wanted to kill you, you would already be dead."

The head guard nodded and then ordered the others to stand down. One by one, the guards lowered their weapons. Yron watched each guard carefully. He could see that one of them was going to be a problem. Releasing the head guard, Yron stepped back. As he did, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted one of the guards raise his crossbow. Spinning around, Yron released the Crowl. It sailed through the air, planting itself in the man's shoulder.

The guard let out a scream and dropped the crossbow to the ground, reaching for the dagger in his shoulder. "If you want to save that arm, you will let me remove the dagger," Yron quickly warned. Yron watched the other guards. No one moved. His second Crowl had slipped from his arm and was resting in his hand, ready for the next target.

The head guard shouted, "Guard him, don't attack him!" With that, all the guards stepped back and encircled Yron, making sure he wasn't going anywhere. Yron walked up to the injured guard and, pressing the lever on the side of the Crowl, released the barbs and extracted the dagger from the shoulder.

"Someone had better take him to get medical attention," Yron said. Grabbing the feed and water bags from his pack, Yron turned his attention to Tristina, as his own situation was clearly at a standstill. He pulled a small sheet of leather from the pouch and started to rub her down, drying the sweat and river water from her. He checked her ankles and hooves, after he had taken care of all her needs, he grabbed some Eleren bread and sat down to eat.

Yron looked around. The line at the gate accessing the castle was growing longer. Since he had arrived, the guards hadn't let anyone else pass through the gate.

After Tristina finished eating, Yron repacked her feed pouches. Not long after, the Captain of the Guard arrived. Yron took a step forward but halted when he noticed the guards raise their weapons. It might be best if I wait for the Captain of the Guard to approach me, he thought.

"I have an emergency dispatch. It is for your eyes only," Yron said as he handed him the dispatch. The Captain's eyes widened, as he inspected the seal on the dispatch. He stopped and looked at Yron, then immediately opened the message.

"Who sent you to bring this to me?" he questioned.

"Master Raajanaar. He is a day, possibly two behind me. I need to continue to Ranker Thor with a dispatch for the King," Yron explained.

The Captain protested. "You must rest, I will send a messenger."

Yron climbed on the back of Tristina, "No messenger can get there faster than I."

"Wait," the Captain of the Guard requested. As Yron turned to see what he wanted, the man added, "Can you deliver another message to King Timon?" Yron nodded. "It will be ready shortly," he said before disappearing.

It took a few minutes before the Captain returned to hand Yron a dispatch with a seal on it. "God be with you," he whispered, as he handed Yron the dispatch.

Yron could hear the Captain urgently barking orders, as he wheeled Tristina around and headed northeast toward Ranker Thor. Good, he understands the seriousness of the dispatch, he thought.

King Timon watched as the reinforcement troops bound for Holben headed east across the plains. He could see the dust trail of their march long after the last of the troops vanished from sight.

With Captain Ranth off searching for Havendar and Myningar leading part of his army off to war, the King had a feeling of loss. His top generals were gone, his oldest son near death, and the soon-to-be heir to his kingdom still unaccounted for. For a moment, the King simply stood at the entrance of his tent and silently wept. Then, taking a deep breath to regain his composure, he uttered a quick prayer for Darmuth's safety and entered the tent.

The King stood looking at the map. Where could that Shakarine army be? Still no scout report. Still no sightings. Nothing. The stench of the dead Shakarine soldiers was starting to become unbearable. It was time to move the camp. He was sure the Shakarine wouldn't be coming back down the canyon where he had slaughtered their entire attack force. The King rubbed his temples as he considered all the possibilities.

If the opposing army could get around behind his army, Yemenor would be vulnerable to an attack. The King immediately dismissed that thought. There was no way the Shakarine army could attack Yemenor from the west. The cliffs that protected the High Plains to the west had always provided protection from invading armies.

If the Shakarine were going to attack Yemenor, it would be from the east. To do that, they would need to pass by Benflyn Dor and through Tamar Wayne.

Benflyn Dor – that was where they needed to go. The plateau and the narrow roadway that switched back and forth across the face of the cliff, barely allowing a wagon up onto the plateau, was the perfect place to defend against an attacking army. History was filled with accounts that talked about the artesian wells on the plateau, as well as fertile soil for growing crops. Additionally, the plateau walls were too high for catapults to fire over. He had always thought it was the perfect place to build a castle. The problem was getting the materials to the top of the plateau; that would take years.

From Benflyn Dor, he would be in the perfect position to defend his entire Kingdom, because it was centrally located. King Timon called on his captains and ordered them to prepare to leave as soon as they were able. He knew the cavalry would be useless defending their position at Benflyn Dor, so he ordered Lord Fanver, commander of the cavalry, to disembark and meet up with Lord Myningar.

Handing the cavalry commander a dispatch intended for Lord Myningar, he ordered Lord Fanver, that once he finished his mission in Holben to head directly to Benflyn Dor. I need you to head out now, and ride until they met up with Lord Myningar and his troops.

As the engineer corps began to dismantle their tents, the King helped Gertoff move Prince Purstar into a wagon that would carry him to Benflyn Dor. King Timon prayed the Master Wizard would somehow make it there in time to capture his son's Inset.

Many miles away, the sun had just started to peer over the trees. Raaj figured they would arrive at Yemenor by nightfall. He wasn't sure what would happen once they got to the city, but he was confident Yron would have given the dispatch to the Captain of the Guard in time for him to begin to make the preparations that were needed.

Raaj was sure the Captain of the Guard would recognize the wizard's seal and follow his suggestions to prepare the castle for a siege. He just hoped there was enough time to harvest or burn the crops and bring everyone into the castle before the Shakarine arrived.

By his calculations, the approaching army would be preparing to lay siege on Yemenor within the week. That wouldn't give the King enough time for his army to return and be in the castle before the invading troops arrived. Therefore, the King's army would have to fight their way through the Shakarine forces to enter the castle.

How would the small garrison of soldiers at the castle hold off the Shakarine army? Raaj wondered. Based on what he had seen by using his Familiar, he estimated the attacking force would exceed fifty thousand soldiers. If King Timon had mobilized his entire army, the castle wouldn't have more than a few thousand garrisons left to defend it. King Timon's army probably wouldn't be more than thirty or forty thousand strong.

Scenario after scenario rattled through Raaj's mind. He knew he could use the Forbidden magic, but casting those spells would be in open violation of The Carta. Any use of forbidden magic, even to defend the castle, would only add to the threat against magic users already brewing across the land.

Overhead, Raaj could see Abinya soaring through the sky. The eagle had been scouting ahead and off to their sides making sure Shakarine spies didn't ambush them. Suddenly, he realized he hadn't seen Ky for some time. Looking around revealed no sign of Yron's Familiar. Dread entered Raaj's heart. The last thing he had promised Yron was that he would look after the dog so the boy could ride uninhibited.

Yron couldn't have carried Ky on his Payleen with him. The dog would have slowed him down, and time was of the essence. Raaj sent his Familiar back along the path they had taken to find Ky. He knew Ky would never stop following them; he just wanted to know where he was. They couldn't stop and wait for him, but if Ky was lost, how would he ever explain that to Yron?

The plans to defend Yemenor temporarily became less important in Raaj's mind. His only concern was that damned mangy mutt. It took over an hour for Abinya to find Ky. When Raaj saw him, he could tell the dog was exhausted and yet still running, trying to catch up. Returning to get Ky would add two or three hours to their time, but Raaj had no choice. Looking forward, he urged Verser to pick up the pace.

Darmuth hadn't said a word in hours. Raaj looked back to check on him; he didn't know how much longer Darmuth could keep up this pace. Slowing down, he handed Darmuth a piece of Eleren bread and encouraged him to eat. "You need to eat this to keep your energy up," Raaj urged. "We will not be stopping until we arrive at the castle. We do not have time for you to slow us up. Eat!"

Darmuth took the bread and started to eat. He quickly realized that eating and riding was not the easiest thing to do. Thank goodness, I don't have to ride the horse without reins like Raaj and Yron do, he thought gratefully. After only a couple of bites, Darmuth could feel the bread reducing his exhaustion. This was fortunate, as Raaj had started to push the group faster. Darmuth continued his ride in silence. As he rode, he began to reflect over the past few days. Almost like a jolt of lightning, the Prince realized he missed Yron and hoped the reason he had for leaving without saying goodbye was a good one.

Raaj also rode in silence. He didn't know if he should tell Darmuth about the Shakarine and how close they were. He figured Darmuth would find out soon enough, and there was no reason to worry the boy prematurely. By the time Abinya returned, the sun was starting to set. Raaj figured they had two, maybe three hours until they arrived at Yemenor. He knew it wouldn't be long until he would need to cast the Moonbeam spell to light their way.

The use of magic would put them at risk because of the growing hatred by the people of Carbynarah toward the Magic Users. Raaj didn't want to put them at risk by casting a Moonbeam spell, but he knew he had no choice. Anyone who was out at night would be able to see that a wizard was on the move. After all, it was easier to shoot an arrow at a light than at a shadow.

# Chapter 14

The wagon came to an abrupt stop. Havendar looked around after being distracted by his thoughts: thoughts of escape, of what the barbarian woman had said, of King Timon and Yemenor, and thoughts of Darmuth and the war. He kept going over and over it in his mind – the things he could have or should have done to prevent his capture. How could he have been so careless?

The guards opened the door of the wagon, taking Tarrie out first. She was taken to one of the small buildings in the courtyard. Two other slaves were taken to different buildings. Finally, they came for Havendar. When Havendar got out of the wagon, he looked around at his new surroundings. As he did so, something hit him in the back of the head. "Eyes down! Slaves are to keep their eyes on the ground," the guard commanded.

Havendar swung around and looked at the guard who had just hit him. He responded to him in the language of the barbarian. The guard struck him again. This time Havendar charged the guard. He didn't think the guards would kill him, especially after their master had just paid a great deal of money for him. It was obvious the guard didn't expect the charge because he didn't move when Havendar dove at him with his shoulder, striking the guard mid-chest.

The guard fell to the ground with Havendar on top of him. Havendar struck the guard a couple of times with his forehead before the other guards could pull him off. From the look of things, Havendar had broken the man's nose. As the other guards pulled him off the downed guard, Havendar held back a smile as he looked down at the guard holding his nose with his hands.

"Take him to the barracks with the barbarian," the wagon driver ordered. "She speaks his words. We will use her to communicate with him."

"What were you thinking?" Tarrie asked, her brown eyes flashing, as soon as they were alone. "They could have killed you for that. A dead ranger does no one any good."

Smiling, Havendar responded, "After what their master paid for us, they won't be killing anyone. In fact, I bet they will be treating us very well."

It wasn't long before the barracks door opened, and two guards brought food and drink.

Havendar looked directly at Tarrie and smiled. She could see him gloating; it was evident in his eyes. He was right, and now she understood that. Once the guards left, Havendar turned toward the barbarian and said, "This gives us an advantage. We are valuable to this master. Therefore, we will be treated well by the guards. There is no reason for the guards to know I can understand them. This can be used to our advantage later." Tarrie saw the wisdom in his words but hated to admit he was right. She settled for a curt nod that signaled acquiescence to his wishes.

Near dusk, Havendar could see through the barred window that another wagon had pulled into the courtyard. This was a luxury wagon. Two men got out. One was lavishly dressed in green and gold apparel and exuded an air of nobility. Havendar assumed he was the Lord who had bought them as slaves – their new Master. Havendar could hear that the men were talking, but they weren't close enough for him to understand what they were saying. As they approached the main villa, one of the guards respectfully approached the Master, gesturing toward the barracks, he said, "They have arrived."

Looking around, all three men focused on where the guard was pointing. Finally, the Master turned and started to walk to the room where Havendar and Tarrie were confined. Havendar moved away from the window and lay down on the straw mat on one side of the room. The barbarian woman was stretched out on the other mat.

As the men approached, Havendar could hear them speak. The guard was telling the Master about Havendar's attack on the other guard upon his arrival at the villa. The injured man had been relieved and sent to get medical attention. Havendar closed his eyes, as he heard the men getting closer. While they looked in on the two new slaves, the Master told one of the men, "Take it slow with these two; we don't want them scared. We will fight them as a team. In the morning, take one of the beds out of the room. Tell me when they mate."

With that, the men walked away from the barracks. "We will mate when Devla freezes over," Tarrie stated maliciously, low enough so only Havendar could hear. Havendar smiled and fell asleep.

"Raaj, why are we in such a hurry?" Darmuth finally asked. Raaj thought if he ignored the boy, he might not have to answer. When Darmuth asked the question the second time, Raaj started to chant the Moonbeam spell. As he did so, a light started to form around the two of them. Darmuth, however, was smart enough to realize Raaj was chanting the spell because he didn't want to answer the question.

They rode in silence. Occasionally, Darmuth could see a farmhouse off to one side or the other. It was late, but the farmers were still out harvesting their crops. This confused Darmuth, as he knew the crops were not fully ripe. To add to his confusion, the Prince could smell smoke in the air; off in the distance, he could see the glow of fire running along the ground.

Darmuth racked his brain. What was going on? The wagons filled with harvested crops were still on the road heading toward Yemenor. When they passed the Day Break Inn, there were no patrons and no drunken songs coming from the bar. It then dawned on Darmuth; he had heard the soldiers at Rankor Thor talk about it. The Kingdom was preparing for war.

"We are at war," Darmuth said out loud. Darmuth's realization surprised Raaj. He looked at the young Prince and nodded his head.

They rode in silence, following the roads that led to the castle. Darmuth was stunned by his realization – there hadn't been an attack on the castle since it was built. Yet, as he looked around, he could see that the people of Yemenor were rushing about preparing for such an imminent attack. The battle must have gone badly for his father to necessitate a retreat to the castle for defense. Darmuth's lessons on battle strategy caused his imagination to calculate just how terrible the loss must have been.

When the pair approached the bridge that crossed the stream running to the west side of the castle, they were stopped by the guards.

"Halt!" one of the guards shouted. "No one passes through here until morning." Darmuth rode forward and started to speak, as Raaj and the guard simultaneously yelled, "Shut up, lad!"

Lad? Darmuth thought; How dare they? Initially shocked, his emotions quickly turned to anger. He started to speak again, but Raaj's eyes said it all. Darmuth didn't understand why, but the wizard didn't want the guards to know who he was. Pulling his hood over his head, the Prince moved his horse out of the light and into the shadows.

Raaj turned to the guard and said, "The Captain of the Guard is expecting us. I am Raajanaar, Grand Master of the Wizards' Guild." He leaned forward and showed the guard the seal on his ring. The guard compared it to the seal that he had been given by the Captain of the Guard and then motioned for the guards to let them through.

"You're the Grand Master?" Darmuth questioned after they passed the guards. "That means you are the Grand Master of the Grand Council of the Guilds, right?" Raaj turned toward his young companion. How did he ever know that the Grand Master of the Wizards was the Grand Master of the Council of the Guilds? That was a closely held secret. Yron knew, but Raaj could count the number of others outside the council that knew on both hands.

"That, is a secret you must never reveal, one that you must take to your grave," Raaj stated. "Where did you learn that?"

Darmuth tried to think. Raaj had stopped the horses and was looking directly at him. Darmuth knew there was no way Raaj was going to move until he told him.

"The night before my brother was struck down, I had a dream," he began. "I was called to meet with someone called the Grand Council of the Guilds. This surprised me because I didn't know there was a Grand Council of the Guilds. At that meeting, an old man was questioning me about a discovery of something I had found. When I asked him by what authority he was questioning me, he stated, 'I am the Master of the Wizards' Guild and Grand Master of the Council of Guilds.'"

"The next morning, when I asked my father to tell me about the Council of the Guilds, he stated that there was no such thing," Darmuth continued. "I simply dismissed the dream as foolishness until you called yourself the Grand Master of the Wizards' Guild."

"Say nothing about this conversation or anything you dreamed. We will talk about this later," Raaj ordered. Then, turning his Payleen, Raaj headed toward the castle gate. Raaj knew he needed to ponder the significance of Darmuth's dream, but it could wait. Right now, they had to get to Yemenor.

By late afternoon, enough of the army was ready to move that King Timon had ordered them to begin the march to Benflyn Dor. It would take several days for the forces to arrive at Tamar Wayne, the entrance onto Benflyn Dor.

At the center of the army, the King's wagon carried his son and Gertoff, who tended to the Prince's needs. The King decided he would ride at the front of the army. He had his horse saddled and prepared – he would be staying with the troops until they reached the plateau. Grabbing two days' rations and a bedroll, he rode off. His bodyguards followed.

He stopped and turned to the bodyguards. "Protect the wagon," he ordered.

The Captain of the Guard immediately protested, "The King cannot be unprotected!"

King Timon held up his hand, stopping the captain before he could continue. "You may come. The others must stay with the wagon."

After many years of service, the Captain of the Guard knew there were times he could argue with the King, and there were times he could not. This was one of the times that he could not. Motioning to the remaining guards to return to the wagon, the head guard turned his horse and started to follow on the right flank of the King.

"Ranth, it was good of you not to argue," the King stated. He snapped the reins, and his white stallion picked up the pace. Together, they headed toward the front of the army column. Ranth was relieved the King didn't chastise him further. Plus, he thought, it will be nice to ride in front of the army. Riding at the front of the column meant he wouldn't have to breathe the dust that those who rode in the center or end of the column would have to do.

Yron was exhausted – he knew he needed rest. Leaning forward onto Tristina's mane, he placed his arms around her neck. He had once heard some wizards talk about being able to sleep while riding their Payleen. If I could just rest for a second, he thought. Yron could feel the steady rhythm of Tristina's gallop, the warmth of her body was soothing, he knew...

Yron could feel himself falling. His eyes opened just in time for him to see one of Tristina's hooves and then the ground. He could feel his body bounce as it hit the ground, once, twice, and then slowly rolling to a stop. It was hard to breathe, as he was lying face down in the prairie grass. He rolled over to see Tristina looking bemusedly down at him.

Looking around, he could see that he hadn't traveled very far after he had fallen asleep, maybe a couple of miles. He rose to his knees and then stood up. He thought to himself; I guess the stories about sleeping while riding is wrong. Giving Tristina some water, he placed the stirrups over the front shoulders of his Payleen and climbed back on her.

The rest of the day was uneventful. He wasn't sure exactly where Ranker Thor was, but he was sure that once he got close, he would see the army campfires. This time, he knew he needed to find a different approach with the guards.

Yron needed to rest Tristina, but there wasn't time, so he continued his ride directly to the King's camp. There would be plenty of time for rest when he arrived. Dusk came, but since there were no clouds in the sky, Yron could use the light from the moons to guide his way. He had been riding for a few hours when he noticed some straggling campfires on the knoll of a hill to the north.

There weren't enough fires for it to be the King's army, but perhaps those tending the campfires would know where the King's army was. Yron rode to within five hundred yards of the fires and stopped. Climbing down from Tristina's back, Yron crept up to the camp. He knew they wouldn't detect him. It was dark, and he knew the ways of the rangers.

At the edge of the campfire, Yron watched and listened. They were soldiers of Yemenor. Clearing his throat, Yron announced himself, "Hail, camp."

The soldiers scurried. Grabbing their swords, they turned toward his voice. At that moment, Yron stepped into the light of the fire.

"What do you want?" one of the soldiers asked.

"I have a dispatch for the King from the Captain of the Castle Guard," Yron explained.

The guard walked up and snatched the paper out of Yron's hand. "What does it say?" one of the others asked his fellow guard.

"I don't know. I can't read," replied the guard. The soldiers gathered around the paper, occasionally looking up to make sure Yron hadn't moved. "It has his mark."

"Yep, it sure does, right there." The soldiers were pointing to the paper.

"The King is not here," the guard finally stated. "He left the day before last. We are here cleaning up the last of the camp – we leave tomorrow. You can come with us then."

"No! I need to get this message to the King immediately," Yron explained. "Where did he go?"

"We don't know," the guard replied. "We were told to just follow the trail. It goes that way," the soldier said, pointing to the south.

"Thanks. I need that dispatch," Yron stated. The soldier who was holding the paper handed it back to Yron.

"There ain't nothin' good that will come of you ridin' through the night," the soldier explained.

"I don't have any choice," Yron retorted, grabbing the dispatch. "The King needs this dispatch now." Turning, he ran off into the night, heading back toward Tristina. He figured he would ride for another two hours, and then give Tristina a rest while he napped for a couple of hours. The sun would wake him, as it broke across the sky.
Chapter 15

It took most of the day for Lord Fanver to catch up to Lord Myningar. The scouts Lord Myningar had placed around the camp sounded the warning that soldiers were approaching from the west. The sun setting in the west prevented the scouts from seeing the Yemenite flag that flew with Lord Fanver and the Yemenite cavalry.

Lord Fanver realizing the scouts were blinded by the setting sun, halted his army, he and his flag carrier slowly rode forward. Lifting his hands to show that he wasn't carrying any weapons, Lord Fanver continued forward until he was a few feet from where the scouts were stationed.

From the hill behind the scouts, Lord Fanver could see the small garrison, which Lord Myningar sent to reinforce the lookout, arriving. Behind them, flags indicating that Lord Myningar and his personal guards were following. By the time Lord Myningar arrived, the scouts had recognized Lord Fanver and were prepared to allow his cavalry to pass through.

Lord Fanver and Lord Myningar met shortly once the troops passed through the scout outpost. After discussing the situation, they decided they should scout the enemy encampment themselves. Knowing they wouldn't return from their nighttime scouting activity before the break of dawn, they gave orders to their respective seconds-in-command.

Having the armies start their march four hours before dawn, would ensure the armed forces would be close enough to King Holben's castle to launch an attack if needed, the next day. Lord Myningar ordered two portions of rations be passed out to each soldier before they started their morning march – they wouldn't be stopping until just before they engaged the enemy forces.

The two Lords then left to scout the enemy encampment. Several messengers had been ordered to follow them, so they could use them to relay instructions to their seconds-in-command. They rode alongside the tree line until they came to the valley shelf that overlooked Holben.

Across the valley floor, they could see the encamped Shakarine troops amid the scattered trees. To the south, lay the supply camp with very limited troops. The Shakarine army seemed to be camped before the main gates at Holben, just outside of longbow range. Catapults were still launching rocks against the walls of the castle. In return, the Holbenian catapults were launching bags of burning oil to keep the enemy troops from getting close to the castle walls.

Surveying the situation, two of the messengers were sent and instructed to take different paths back, so if one was captured; the other still had a chance the message would make it through. The message was given to them verbally to prevent the enemy from obtaining written instructions if either messenger was captured. Lord Myningar gave each of the messengers a password; each password was different.

The password would indicate to those in command which of the messages they were to follow. If only one messenger showed up at camp, those in command would know the other messenger was captured. If neither messenger returned, those in command would know they should proceed with caution, but to await further orders before they began their attack.

The flames from the burning oil cast enough light for Myningar and Fanver to see the area between the castle and the positioned enemy. From the looks of things, Holben had prevented the Shakarine army from getting near the castle walls, but the Shakarine catapults were beginning to damage the outer wall of the castle. Once the castle walls were breached, the Holben army would have to fall back to their second line of defense within the castle walls.

The second walls of the castle were as strong a defense as the outer walls, although they had some distinct disadvantages. The biggest problem was that the invading troops would be able to use the shelter provided by the outer walls to get closer to the inner walls, making them easier to penetrate.

From what the Lords could see, the Shakarine had the Holbenian army pinned inside the castle. The Shakarine archers were stationed just outside of longbow range, and it was apparent from the dead Holbenian soldiers at the main entrance that each time Holben's troops had mounted an attack, the Shakarine archers had pinned them against the castle walls.

By morning, both Myningar and Fanver had been able to rest, relieving each other for a couple of hours of sleep while the other watched the enemy camp. By sunrise, they had their attack plan in place. Messengers were sent out to meet the approaching army, instructing them that Lord Myningar would intercept them and lead the attack against the Shakarine forces that had King Holben trapped inside the castle. Lord Fanver stayed behind to watch the Shakarine and make sure they didn't do anything that would force a change in the plan.

By mid-morning, Fanver had determined there were approximately forty thousand troops in the Shakarine camp. There were five thousand archers, some cavalry (but no pike-men), and the remainder of the army was composed of foot soldiers. As he watched, Fanver couldn't identify any leaders among the troops. Occasionally, someone would ride into the encampment, talk to the catapult operators, and then ride back to the supply camp.

While he waited for Lord Myningar to arrive on the battlefield, Fanver decided he needed to get a better look at the supply camp. Moving along the ridge, he positioned himself so that he could see the army encampment at the main supply camp. There was very little movement in the camp, but Fanver could tell it was occupied by the officers. Near noon, they all gathered and ate lunch, revealing their numbers. It was surprising to Lord Fanver that there were fewer than a thousand troops left in the supply camp, and this included officers and those servants who were responsible for taking care of the officers and their horses.

Lord Myningar returned to where they had tied their horses. In the distance, he could still see Lord Fanver watching the Shakarine camp. He mounted his horse, turned, and headed back to meet the Yemenite army. Within an hour, he reached the first troops of the advancing army – they had gotten on the move an hour sooner than expected. Myningar called the officers together and diagrammed their attack strategy.

Each of the commanders having received their assignments, Myningar ordered the scout teams to move ahead of the army and make sure the advancement of their troops wasn't detected by Shakarine scouts. Once all the arrangements were made, Myningar headed back to the battlefront. He needed to check with Lord Fanver and make sure there were no strategy changes. When Myningar arrived back on the ridge, Fanver was gone. His horse was still tied near the tree line, but Fanver was nowhere to be seen. On the ground where the two of them spent the morning finalizing plans, Myningar found a pointer. Fanver had gone south. Myningar followed the trail until he discovered where Fanver had repositioned himself.

Based on Fanver's new understanding of the situation, he suggested that instead of attacking with the foot soldiers initially, they use the foot soldiers as a ruse to distract the Shakarine archers and foot soldiers. Because the officers were all back at the supply camp, the main force would be frozen, not knowing what to do.

They agreed on the new plan, and both men returned to their horses and rode back to their marching army. Myningar issued the new orders to the infantry, and Fanver brought the cavalry together and issued their orders.

By noon, the Yemenor army was in position and ready to fight. Myningar signaled the foot soldiers hiding behind the tree line to breach the top of the ridgeline near the castle. As they did so, they began beating their swords on their shields and hollering at the top of their lungs. They were to move very slowly down the valley side, never getting within archer range.

Myningar watched from the top of the ridge as the archers turned toward the Yemenor soldiers descending to the valley floor. He signaled the cavalry to charge. Over the top of the ridge to his south, Myningar watched three thousand troops invade the valley floor, charging the Shakarine archers. The Yemenor foot-soldier distraction was so effective that the main body of archers didn't see the cavalry until they were upon them.

Fanver had told the cavalry that each of them needed to kill at least two archers in the initial charge. The plan was successful; within five minutes, the archer forces were decimated. By the time the cavalry had cleared the field, the Yemenor archers had reached the center portion of the valley and started firing arrows into the ranks of the Shakarine foot soldiers. They fired their arrows as fast as they could, and as the Shakarine foot soldiers began to flee, the Yemenor archers pursued them.

Fanver was not done with the cavalry charge. Circling, he headed for the ridge where the main supply camp was located. Swords still dripping with archer blood, the cavalry entered the main supply camp. The Shakarine officers scattered but Fanver's men were relentless.

Within twenty minutes, the few officers that weren't dead had surrendered. Fanver ordered the northern squadron to hold the prisoners while the remainder of his forces dismounted and charged north, toward Holben. As they descended into the valley, they ran into the Shakarine foot soldiers that were fleeing from the Yemenor archer volleys.

From the castle gate, the Holben troops attacked the flank of the fleeing Shakarine foot soldiers. It didn't take long for the soldiers to realize they were surrounded. After the first few Shakarine soldiers dropped their swords, the remainder of the army followed suit. Within three hours, fifty thousand Shakarine soldiers were reduced to seventeen thousand troops, with half of the remaining force wounded.

When King Holben arrived on the battlefield, the Shakarine troops were lying in rows on the ground. All their weapons had been removed, and the supplies still left in the main supply camp were being packed. The Shakarine commander was still alive but defiant. Myningar and Fanver were trying to get him to divulge the battle plans against the Yemenor soldiers when one of the scouts raced into camp. To the south, an army of Warteen female warriors was approaching. The allies of the Shakarine had arrived.

Yron was on the move before sunrise. He had fed and watered a grateful Tristina, but he could tell from the swelling in her legs she wasn't going to be able to continue much longer. Yron rubbed some wander weed herb potion onto her legs and climbed on her back.

Following the army path would make the terrain easier on Tristina. Looking ahead, Yron couldn't see a dust plumb that you would expect to see from an army on the move – he still had a long way to go. He pulled some Eleren bread from his pack. The once sweet bread, which he enjoyed nibbling on while he was working his spells, had now become tasteless. Worse, the water was stagnant, and he was tired. Reaching back to rub his shoulders, Yron sighted a rider off to the right, riding hard toward the east.

No dust plume could be seen, so Yron knew it had to be a Payleen, but no wizard would be out here in the middle of the high plains riding that hard. It must be one of the assassins he and Raaj had encountered a few weeks ago. Yron knew the importance of the speed of his task, but this was no time to take the risk of being seen. Yron regretfully pulled Tristina to a stop. He dismounted and got her to lie down.

After a few minutes, the rider was out of sight. Yron continued to scan the horizon for any sign of movement. He was just about to stand up when he noticed a Hawkrider approaching off to the west. Slowly reaching into his pack, Yron pulled out his magical Cloak of Deception which, unlike a Cloak of Invisibility, makes it appear that the wearer has blended into the surrounding environment. He carefully placed it over Tristina and himself. There, he thought, that will camouflage us so that no one can see us.

Yron watched as the Hawkrider made large circles over the prairie as they scouted. When the Hawkrider spotted the path created by King Timon and his army, he started to follow it. Yron knew he needed to wait until the Hawkrider was out of sight. After that, he would have to be careful and keep an eye skyward to make sure the Hawkrider didn't turn back and spot him as he followed the trail made by King Timon and his Yemenite army.

There was nothing he could do to warn King Timon about the Hawkrider. His only hope was that one of the King's scouts would spot the Hawkrider in time. An hour after the Hawkrider had vanished onto the horizon, Yron decided it would be safe to follow the army's trail again.

The rest had a positive effect on Tristina. She was running harder, and it was easier to ride her. Yron rode hard for another three hours before he saw the army's dust plume; the army was stopped.

It took another thirty minutes for Yron to catch up to the army. The entire army had halted, although Yron didn't understand why. He knew it was too early to stop for the night. As he approached the rearguards, Yron slowed. He showed the first guard that approached him the letter from the Captain of the Guard of Yemenor. The guard told Yron that he would need to be escorted to the King's wagon. While they waited, the guard explained to Yron that the reason the army was not moving was that there had been an assassination attempt on the King's life.

As was standard, when King Timon elected to ride at the head of the army, he had left a decoy in his place with the royal wagon. The Hawkrider, clearly lacking knowledge of the use of a decoy, had successfully killed the decoy before fleeing to the south.

Fortunately, King Timon and the mortally wounded Prince were both still alive. When Yron arrived at the King's wagon, he could see King Timon bent over the dead decoy. His right hand held the arrow that had been pulled from the man's back. The King looked up when Yron rode in, as the guard announced that he carried a dispatch from Yemenor and the Captain of the Guard.

Yron handed the King the message and whispered, "I have an emergency dispatch from Master Raajanaar as well."

As the King opened the Captain's dispatch, Yron could see that the message had shaken him; looking at Yron, he asked. "Do you know the contents of the message?"

Yron shook his head. "Let me see the other dispatch," the King requested. Yron immediately produced the dispatch from the Grand Master.

The King examined the seal on the message before opening the second dispatch. There was no doubt the second message caused the King even greater concern. Getting up, he ordered, "Assemble the War Council. NOW!"

One by one, the King's commanders arrived while the King paced back and forth in nervous anticipation. By the time the Council had gathered, there was enough space cleared around the King's wagon that they could talk without being overheard.

The King read the dispatch to the commanders. He explained that the Captain of the Guard was preparing to abandon the castle and move its entire inhabitant population south of the main forest. The Captain pleaded with the King to meet him there with the army. King Timon looked around. He knew heading south of the forest would provide no protection. He needed to dispatch riders and have the Captain of the Guard change his plans and meet them at Benflyn Dor.

Yron knew it would take a while for the King to finish. In the meantime, he decided to see what he could discover about the dead decoy. Kneeling, the first thing he noticed was that the arrow wound should not have been fatal – well, not immediately fatal. Reaching for the arrow, Yron examined the arrowhead the King had dropped alongside the body. It was an assassin's arrow with the same feather markings as they had found on their way to cast the Inset spell on the King's son.

Before long, the King sent for Yron. "Who are you, and why were you dispatched to carry these messages instead of the regular couriers?" the King questioned.

"I am Yron, maiggii to Grand Master Raajanaar. You sent your son Darmuth to us so that the Grand Master could..." but before Yron could continue, the King interrupted him.

"We will talk in private," the King ordered.

With that, the King led Yron away from his Council. "What has become of my son?" the King desperately inquired.

"The last I saw him, he was sleeping at a camp with Grand Master Raajanaar. That was just before I was sent to deliver a dispatch to the Captain of the Guard at your castle and another to you," Yron replied.

"How long ago was that?" the King responded.

"Three, maybe four days ago," Yron answered.

"Which was it, three or four?" the King asked.

"I can't remember. I have been riding day and night to get to you," Yron replied.

The King sighed and nodded. Looking to one of the army man servants, the King commanded, "Take this boy and get him food, and provide him a place to rest."

As he departed, Yron could hear the King talking to the War Council. Before the escort had taken him more than a few steps, Yron stopped. He returned to Tristina and pulled out her feedbag. It was only after the Payleen had been fed and watered that the King's servant was able to get Yron to sit down to eat.

When Yron had finished eating, he wearily collapsed on the bedroll that was provided for him. Mmmmm... Yron thought. The sun's warmth feels good.
Chapter 16

"No ideas, Ranger," Tarrie said as she threw her yak skin over Havendar and curled up behind him. The evenings were cold in the mountains, and Havendar had been using a warming chant he had learned from the wizards to keep himself warm. He knew it was only a matter of time before the little Princess would seek his body heat to keep her warm.

Lying there, he heard Tarrie's breathing and could tell she was near sleep. Once she had drifted off, he would begin the warming chant. Until then, the words of the trainer kept repeating themselves in his mind, "They will be fighting as a team." This statement didn't provide him with much comfort.

While he lay there wondering how he would be able to teach this arrogant, young aristocrat the art of fighting, Tarrie whispered, "You can start your warmth chant anytime now. Why do you think I came over?" Havendar obliged and smiled to himself, as he was reminded once again not to underestimate this one.

From where he lay, Havendar looked out the window and could see the sun's rays just beginning to stretch across the horizon. His thoughts were with King Timon. He knew it was too late to warn him of the impending attack. In his mind, he played out scenario after scenario of how the Shakarine would defeat his beloved friend with a surprise, rear flank, attack coming from the west. He prayed that somehow, someone would provide the King with early enough warning to avoid defeat.

Outside, Havendar could hear someone approaching the slave barracks. Pounding on the door, the guard shouted for them to get up. A smile crept across the man's face, as he unlocked the door and looked at the two slaves lying together in the same bed. The smile quickly faded, however, as Havendar got up, and the guard saw that he was fully dressed. When Tarrie pulled back the yak skins, the guard frowned, as he realized she was fully dressed as well.

While another guard manned the door, the first man placed food on a table in the corner of the cell. After surveying the room, both guards left. Havendar could hear the latch close and the key lock the door after them. Escape through the door would be no easy feat. Unfortunately, the windows were no more welcoming. There were two, one on each side of the room, built into the cement and rock.

Perhaps in the summer, they afforded enough airflow to cool off the cell, but at present, they provided a way for the cold mountain air to pass through the room. Each window was six inches high and had three bars that were spaced approximately six inches apart. Even if he could remove the bars, there was no way Havendar would be able to crawl through the window, but the barbarian princess would be able to fit. Any opportunity to escape from the cell would require Havendar to access the door.

On the table sat two bowls of mutton and vegetable stew. Havendar watched as the barbarian took the bowl with the larger portion. She looked at him, and he smiled. "What?" Havendar just shook his head and grabbed the unclaimed bowl. Tilting it to his lips, he drank the stew from the bowl. It was simple but delicious.

After finishing the stew and setting his bowl on the table, Havendar began his morning exercises to work out the stiffness in his arms and shoulders. Tarrie focused on her breakfast, attempting not to watch the ranger while he exercised.

"You know that doesn't impress me," Tarrie finally commented.

Ignoring her, Havendar continued his workout. Tarrie walked around the room, looking out the windows, pulling on the bars, and finally dropping down on the straw pile that initially had served as her bed.

After a few minutes, she got up. Picking up the straw she was sitting on, she carried it over and placed it on the ranger's bed. "This does not mean that we will be mating," Tarrie stated seriously. "It just means we might as well be comfortable when we sleep."

Havendar smiled. How little she knew of the customs of his guild. Rangers were celibate until they married, and once they married, they were with only one woman until death. If she died, they never remarried. Fornication, adultery, and treason were the only activities for which a ranger could be kicked out of the guild. The little barbarian is attractive, Havendar admitted to himself, but she is not like the women I am used to. Nor is she the type that would make a good ranger's wife.

Tarrie finished arranging the bedding area. Outside, Havendar could hear the door being unlocked. As the guards walked in, one guard turned to the other and said, "Look... how nice, they are making themselves a little home here." Both men laughed.

"Time to train," the lead guard ordered. Tarrie headed out of the cell as directed. Havendar, however, stood staring at the guards. "Time to train!" the guard shouted, this time pointing to the door.

Havendar nodded and headed for the door. He knew that not allowing the guards to realize he understood what they were talking about, would give him an advantage. As he passed the guard, the bigger guard pushed Havendar toward the door. His ranger training allowed Havendar to keep from responding. After taking a deep breath, he gritted his teeth and kept walking. It would have been easy to take down the guard and break his neck, but Havendar knew this was not the time.

Tarrie followed the lead guard while Havendar walked behind her, and the bigger guard brought up the rear. Every four or five steps, the guard walking behind Havendar would push him in the back, urging him to hurry along. Without looking back, Tarrie cautioned in her native language, "Don't Ranger, it isn't time."

It was nice for Havendar to know that Tarrie was looking for a way to escape as well. Perhaps she could be a part of any escape plans he could come up with.

The guard led Havendar and Tarrie to a small arena. Looking around at the activity inside the grounds, Havendar could see several men fighting with each other. Each one had a different variation of weapon, although there were no bows. A guard coached each group of fighters. After taking in the fights, Havendar inspected his surroundings. The walls were fifteen to twenty feet high, and they surrounded the entire arena. Posted on the tops of the walls were eighteen guards in total, all holding short-bows. There were eight other men guarding the entrances. Each door was spaced about seventy-five feet apart.

Across the arena, was a row of tables. Havendar could tell that the guard was leading Tarrie toward them. Just then, the guard behind Havendar pushed him again, almost knocking him to the ground. As he turned to take on the guard, Tarrie shouted his name. This was all Havendar needed to encourage him to turn and follow her. Tarrie was first to the tables. As she passed by the table, she ran her hand over the weapons, occasionally picking up one of the smaller swords only to quickly set it back down again.

As Havendar watched, it appeared to him that Tarrie was seeking something specific, but that thought was immediately dismissed when she would pick up something ridiculous, like an ornamental weapon encrusted with gems. Each time Havendar reached for one of the weapons, however, the guard slapped his wrist with the side of the sword he was holding. Tarrie finally selected a small sword and a knife with a small hand shield. Interesting choice, Havendar thought. It was not what he expected, but a very practical choice nonetheless.

Once Tarrie had selected her weapons, the two were guided to one of the unoccupied areas of the arena. Havendar looked around. He was the only one without weapons. Havendar looked at Tarrie. He realized, that if he wanted a weapon, he would have to take one of hers before they fought.

Yron had been asleep for what seemed like only a moment. "Get up, courier," one of the King's knights ordered. "The King wants to talk to you."

Looking around, Yron could tell the sun had barely moved – he couldn't have been asleep for more than thirty minutes. Yron stood up, rolled up his bedding, placing it where he had found it, and followed the King's knight. Yron could see that Tristina had finished her bag of oats and was finishing the last of the sweet water Yron had given her to drink. All around the camp, people were rushing back and forth.

The knight guided Yron by his arm. It was obvious to Yron that the knight was in a hurry; at times, he was almost dragged. "The King wants to talk now," the knight repeated. The two men rounded the corner of the stable tent where Tristina was being kept and headed toward the King's tent. Inside, King Timon's War Council was huddled around a table, planning. The King stood at the head of the table. Yron could see his impatience.

As he entered the room, the King's stare fixated on Yron, making Yron very uncomfortable. Looking around at the other men, Yron knew a decision had been made. "Your Majesty, you sent for me?" Yron asked.

"Yes, courier. You ride a Payleen," the King stated. "With that horse, you can travel faster than any of our couriers. You have had no rest, but we have no other choice. Courier, we need you to carry this dispatch to the people of Yemenor. I am not your King, and I have no right to ask you to do this, but these are desperate times and you are needed."

Yron nodded. "I will leave as soon as I have your dispatch." Yron turned to leave to get Tristina. As he turned, the King called for him to stop. Halting in mid-stride, Yron turned toward the King. The King continued, "We will have the dispatch ready before you get back." As Yron approached Tristina, she turned and placed her muzzle in his hands. He scratched her ears and rubbed her nose. After rubbing her ankles, he could feel that the swelling had gone down. He knew she would carry him to her death but how could he ask her to do this?

Yron was tired and overwhelmed. Being away from his Familiar, Ky, was starting to affect him. He knew he was experiencing what wizards call "the loss." When a wizard bonds with a Familiar, he gains additional magical strength, but when the Familiar is separated or dies, the wizard loses part of his magical power, in addition to experiencing a deep feeling of loss. Yron knew it had only been four days since he left Ky with Raaj, but days seemed like months.

While "the loss" was having its effect on Yron, what he really missed was the friendship that he and Ky had developed. Aside from the wizards, only those rangers who took Familiars truly understood the relationship that develops between a human and their Familiar. Wiping a tear from his cheek and swallowing his sadness, Yron placed the riding stirrups on Tristina and slid onto her back. It was time to go.

Tristina knew. Somehow, she sensed the importance of what they were about to do, and she turned to look at Yron. He could tell she understood. Tristina spun at Yron's guidance and headed toward the King's War Council.

When he returned, he heard the King and the others continuing the discussion they were having when he left the tent. "We have no right to ask him to do this," the King repeated several times. Yron could hear the argument continue, as he waited.

The King looked up and saw Yron waiting for the dispatch, "We didn't expect you to be ready so soon," he apologized to Yron. Within a few moments, the King personally handed Yron the dispatch. "You are our hope," he said. Pointing to a map, the King continued, "Here is where we believe you will meet up with the people from Yemenor. They will have abandoned the castle and will be on the run."

Yron nodded, and with that, he was gone.

As Yron rode out of the camp, he could see troops assembling. He figured they would soon be following him, sent to protect the citizens of Yemenor, as they retreated from the castle.

As he passed the last of the outlying soldiers' tents, Yron guided Tristina southwest. Upon close examination of the map, he decided he would ride down the central corridor of the High Plains, then head northwest until he met up with the fleeing Yemenites. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he encouraged Tristina onward with a touch of his knees. He could feel the strength in her legs, as she lengthened her stride and headed across the prairie.

They would ride as hard as she could, taking only the occasional break. It would take several days before he would meet up with the Yemenites, and Yron only hoped Tristina would recover the strength she needed to complete this assignment. Tristina was at full gallop, as Yron lowered his head and began to chant a Strength spell. He had never tried to use one on an animal, but it was all he could think to do for this trusted friend.

As Raaj approached the main gate of the castle, he could see that the citizens of Yemenor were on the move. Wagons filled with supplies were leaving, as animals were being herded out. Any animal that could carry supplies had them attached to their backs. The steady stream of people leaving the castle angled southeast. Those children old enough to carry them had packs with supplies strapped to their backs. The only riders were infants too young to walk.

In the high reaches of the castle, Raaj could see troops standing at each of the precipices. He wondered why they had the troops on guard now. He was sure his dispatch had said the Shakarine army was still four or five days away. Raaj turned toward Darmuth and said, "From this moment forth, you are Yron, my apprentice. Do not show your face and make sure your hood casts sufficient shadow across your face, so no one will see who you are. Oh yes, and stop shaving."

Darmuth nodded.

"Don't say a word! Do you understand?" Raaj asked. "We need to keep you protected. No one can be trusted."

Ahead, several guards were shouting orders at the castle gate. To the right of the gate, one of the guards was inspecting the empty wagons entering the castle. Two other guards interrogated anyone trying to enter. As they approached the guards at the gate, Raaj announced that the Captain of the Guard was expecting their arrival.

"Who is the Captain of the Guard?" the guard asked.

"Kimberlee, son of Kimberlee, nephew of the King," Raaj responded.

The guard motioned for them to move off to the side then ordered one of the other guards to find the Captain. "We will see if the Captain of the Guard knows who you are," the guard continued. The guard began to process some of the others who were entering the castle, but he didn't take his eyes off Raaj or his maiggii.

Within moments, a young man appeared. "Master Raajanaar? I am Kimberlee, Captain of the Guard," he said.

Raaj nodded.

"What is the name of my uncle's horse, and where did he get it?" the Captain questioned. Raaj smiled; he knew the young Captain of the Guard would need to verify his identity, but Raaj had hoped the senior Kimberlee would have met him at the gate to greet him personally.

"Avertree and he got it from me as a wedding gift," Raaj answered.

Kimberlee smiled and nodded, "My father wished he could be here to greet you personally. Come with me." The Captain headed into the castle. Turning toward Raaj, he continued, "Your horses can wait here. I will have someone tend to them."

"I will tend to my horse. Your servant can tend to the others," Raaj replied. The wizard dismounted from Verser and pulled out the feed and water bags. Quickly, Raaj filled the bags and tied them to a fence post. When he had finished, he followed the young Kimberlee. Once inside the castle, Raaj immediately realized the castle was vacant. The stables were empty. Most of the wagons had left.

In a room off from the entrance of the castle, Lord Kimberlee and several of his men were waiting. As Darmuth entered the room, the Captain of the Guard turned to Raaj, "There is no need for your servant to attend this meeting."

"If he isn't welcome, I'm not either," Raaj responded.

The Captain of the Guard began to protest, as Raaj turned to leave. "Master Raajanaar, your servant may stay. We do not have time for this."

"Master Raajanaar, please tell us what you saw," the Captain requested.

Raaj looked around the room, "From what I could tell, the initial army includes about fifty thousand soldiers, all on foot, heading this way. It was impossible for me to determine how many troops were behind the initial army, but from what I could see, the dust clouds indicated that there was at least one more army following.

"There were no heavy armaments and no catapults. The army is mostly foot soldiers with some archers and cavalry. Mounted Hawkriders followed in the air. The army was not moving fast. They had plenty of scouts out in front. It appeared they didn't want to attract attention. The Shakarine armies were not following the road. They appear to be doing this so as not to stir up any dust cloud, which might announce their arrival."

"Shakarine scouts were encamped in the old castle, stationed in the terrapins." Raaj paused then continued, "The scouts you sent to the west are dead, lying outside the old castle. Their bodies were hidden, but it appears they have been dead for over a week."

"About a mile to the west of the old castle, crews of Shakarine men were cutting down trees. It looked to me as if they were building siege equipment. I could see that they have built ladders, and it appeared they were starting to build catapults to be dragged on skids. I am sure one of the large trees that they had cut down and shaved off the limbs was going to be used as a battering ram."

"There were piles of long pike poles, carved from the branches of the trees. They had stacks of tree logs that were piled on the skids. It looked like the wood was for campfires. Admittedly, that is just a guess.

"Off to the north, in the old quarry, men were collecting large rocks for the catapults. The rocks were also stacked on the skids.

"It did not appear that the Shakarine armies had sufficient horses to pull all the skids of materials being collected. My guess is they will be using manpower to drag the skids. If this is the case, the army's approach will either be slowed, or the Shakarine will be bringing the supplies on skids up after the army has laid siege to the castle," Raaj concluded.

Once Raaj finished his report, the room erupted with questions. Raaj tried to answer them the best he could, but he had no explanation for how the army had been able to get on the plateau to the west of the castle. They were above the tree line, so either they had carved a road through the forest and come from the sea to the far west, or they had traversed the plateau walls.

Several of the knights at the castle wanted to send scouts out to verify Master Raaj's story. Captain Kimberlee silenced them with a gesture. "If you want to go out on your own and scout for us, please feel free to do so. But while you are under my command, we will not waste one scout's life to verify that which I know is true.

Turning to the men that sat around the table, "You were not called here to discuss the merits of this report. You were called here to help develop a strategy to impede the Shakarine army from discovering that we have abandoned the city, thus, giving our citizens, the greatest head start we can," Captain Kimberlee continued. "If you can't do that, leave!"

He looked around the room. There was silence. Kimberlee went on, "We will need the reports on the evacuation and crop harvest first thing in the morning. I want scouts perched in the trees that border the Shakarine approach. Set up a signal system to report their movement. Lord Norlyn, select two hundred troops to defend the castle once the defense preparations are finished.

"Make sure the remaining troops all understand where and how to use the escape tunnel and how to avoid the traps," Kimberlee continued. "Lord Tabar, as my second-in-command, will ensure the horses are ready and waiting for the troops when they finally abandon the castle and access the escape tunnel to flee the castle. Lord Tabar, take twenty men and enough food for the horses to the escape tunnel's exit. You and your men need to stay there protecting the horses until Lord Norlyn has exited the tunnel. Raaj, you and I will be the last ones to leave the castle. Once all the remaining troops have arrived at the end of the exit tunnel, we will all leave to catch up with the main body of the exodus.

"Raaj, we need you to stay here in the castle with the troops. With you casting magic, the Shakarine will be less interested in charging the castle. We need you to alternate between Weather spells, where you will create lightning storms that will look like someone casting a Lightning Bolt spell, and Illusion spells that will make it appear we have a full military contingency within the castle. We need the Shakarine to believe we have not left the castle for as long a period as we can."

Raaj started to protest but thought better of it. He initially thought to request that his maiggii leave with the main garrison, but he knew if Darmuth left with them there would be no way he could protect the King's heir. Turning to the Captain of the Guard, Raaj instead requested a place for him and his maiggii to rest.

"Kimberlee," Raaj asked next, "is the escape tunnel large enough for my horses to pass through?"

"You can take wagons through the exit tunnel, so your mounts should have no problem," Kimberlee replied.

"Then we shall bring our horses into the castle, and they will leave with us through the tunnel when we go," Raaj replied.

The meeting was over. Raaj got up to leave the room. As he approached the door, the wizard turned to Kimberlee, "We will need someone posted in the stables guarding our horses."

Without protest, the Captain agreed. One of the guards followed Raaj and Darmuth, as they left the room and helped them fetch their horses and lead them to the stables. After the horses had been cared for, Raaj and Darmuth retired to the room that had been prepared for them.

Darmuth turned to Raaj, "Is it safe here?"

"No," Raaj responded. Turning from Darmuth, he cast a Lock spell on the door then followed it with an Alarm spell to notify them if someone tried to either open the door or enter the window. Darmuth smiled to himself, as Raaj cast the Alarm spell on the window. After all, the windows were forty feet off the ground.

Darmuth lay down and watched Raaj, listening quietly to the words the wizard was chanting. Darmuth could see that Raaj was working on something, perhaps casting some sort of repair spell on the box Yron had created.
Chapter 17

There was no time to celebrate their victory. Myningar and Fanver ordered the Healers to care for their wounded troops. The wounded Shakarine were taken to the healer's tents next to be treated as well.

When King Holben arrived, Lords Myningar and Fanver greeted him. "We need to do something with these prisoners. The Shakarine reinforcements are less than four hours away," Lord Myningar informed the King.

"They can be taken them to the valley behind the castle," the King suggested. "We have a small prison work camp there. The high canyon walls on three sides and the wall at the back of the castle wall enclose the gap. We will be able to keep the prisoners there with minimal guards." The three men agreed this was the best option, and the King gave the orders to move the prisoners.

King Holben turned to one of his officers and requested maps of the area. Once they arrived, the King rolled them out on the ground. The scout that had spotted the approaching Warteen army showed them the location of the troops. He estimated there were five to six thousand female soldiers, followed by archers. Unfortunately, he was unable to determine the size of the entire Warteen army.

As the three commanders knelt on the ridge overlooking the valley where the Warteen army would approach, they spotted the beginnings of a small dust cloud, making the force fifteen to twenty miles away. There wasn't enough time to prepare an adequate defense. With all the dead bodies in the valley that extended out from the castle, Lord Myningar knew there was no way they could repeat the strategy that had worked so well against the Shakarine.

The Warteen commanders would see the bodies and be very leery about entering the valley that stretched out before the Castle for fear of suffering similar losses. They would have to extend their defenses out to the ridge located on the opposite side of the valley from the castle. By placing defenses there, they could take advantage of the steep mile-long slope that led up to the ridge from the south.

Lord Myningar immediately started to develop a strategy for stopping the Warteen attack. The prairie had a long upward slope and, from what he could see, the overall length of the slope was at least five miles long and rose almost half a mile. The last quarter mile elevated three hundred yards. Any army that had to attack uphill that long would be at a disadvantage. "This is a perfect place to stop the Warteen," Lord Myningar announced.

"The longbows standing behind this ridge will impede the Warteen as they head up the hill." Calling forth one of his longbow men, he had him fire an arrow over the ridge into the open prairie that spread out before them. Just as Myningar thought, the arrow landed almost four hundred yards away. "The height of this ridge will play to our advantage," he pointed out. "While longbows alone will not stop the Warteen, they will knock down their numbers; the dead and wounded bodies that the advancing army will have to climb over will not just affect their moral but will slow them down when they decide to charge the ridge."

The three men knelt on the ridge studying their options. Breaking the silence, Lord Myningar asked, "How hard would it be to take the catapults from the castle walls and place them here on the ridge?"

"The catapults mounted on the walls will never get here in time; however, we have seven or eight mobile catapults in the armory," the King replied.

"We need to bring them here to the ridge, along with all the animal fat, tar, oil, and lard you have," Lord Myningar stated. "Perhaps we can use fire as a barricade, as well as a deterrent."

The King ordered the catapults to be brought to the ridge, along with the materials that Lord Myningar requested.

Next, Lord Myningar ordered his men to strip some of the dead Shakarine warriors of their clothes and armament, "We will need it for a rear flanking maneuver." Surveying the landscape, Lord Myningar knew they needed to move the dead Shakarine bodies that were scattered across the valley between the ridge and the castle's front gate, and use them to build a barricade on top of the ridge.

"King Holben, we need you to place your dead soldiers off to the side so they can be buried later. "We will need wagons brought from the castle to help move the dead bodies."

"If your people can come out and help strip the Shakarine soldiers, that will be helpful. If they do help, make sure they place each soldier's belongings in a separate pile. We want to make it as easy as possible for the soldiers that will be changing into their clothing." Upon Lord Myningar's request for support of King Holben's people, one of the King's aides left for the castle to request their citizens' help.

Explaining his plan further, Lord Myningar turned to Lord Canter, who had just arrived, "You are going to lead your army east, then circle behind the Warteen army. I suspect that you will meet up with the enemy troops early tomorrow. I want your army to dress as Shakarine soldiers. The clothing and armament are being stripped from the dead Shakarine soldiers as we speak. Your men will have to use the Shakarine weaponry that they are provided.

"We cannot risk them having anything Yemenite with or on them. This is mission critical. I will need you to have your army run the last few miles in the morning, so they appear exhausted and in need of rest. You are to tell the Warteen commander of the details of the battle that you had been in, as you retreated through the forest. Explain to them how you outran King Holben's army, and that, if they would give you an hour to rest and eat, you will immediately head to the front line to re-engage King Holben's troops.

"Position yourself so that once the battle has started, one of your scouts can see the ridge. They are to wait for the signal of the red flag raised from the center catapult. This will be your signal to run out of the forest behind the Warteen army. Wait for the double red flag; then you will know it is time for you to attack the Warteen from the rear.

"As soon as the Warteen turn to fight the Yemenor soldiers dressed as Shakarine, King Holben will launch his attack from the top of the hill," Lord Myningar explained.

Lord Myningar rotated the troops that were being used to guard the ridge incase the Warteen launched a surprise attack. He wanted his troops well rested for the next day's battle. From the top of the ridge, Lord Myningar could see the fires of the enemy camp dotting the valley floor.

By morning, the Warteen were on the march. They were forming giant lines that strung across the valley, as they began to move toward the ridge.

The defending catapults were loaded with barrels of oil and tar and securely hidden behind the ridge. Behind the catapults, waited twenty rows of archers with longbows, and behind them stood Holben's army of foot soldiers, all waiting for the orders of the day. Lord Fanver and his cavalry were nowhere in sight.

Off to the west, Lord Myningar's foot soldiers waited. Their orders were to enter the forest to the west and crawl through it unnoticed. They were to be in position on the western flank of the Warteen army, ready to attack when the double red flags were lifted. Lord Fanver and his Calvary were to charge onto the battlefield from the west and attack the Warteen at the same time Lord Canter attacked from the rear, and King Holben attacked from the ridge.

This would pin the Warteen armies against the eastern forest with attacks from three sides. Lord Myningar hoped that being attacked from three sides simultaneously would prompt a Warteen surrender.

Across the valley floor, trumpets sounded the charge. The barbarian Warteen warriors began to charge the hill. As the barbarians attacked, King Holben began shouting orders. The catapult crews were ready to start firing. "Hold!" the King shouted. "Hold... Hold." The Warteen troops were now within range. Everyone took a deep breath, as the King finally gave the order, "FIRE!"

Tristina raced across the prairie, as the sun was beginning to rise in the east. They had ridden all night. Yron was grateful for the clear sky and a brightly shining moon. Otherwise, he would have had to chant the Moonbeam spell. Yron could feel his Payleen's strength beginning to falter. He didn't know for sure, but the Strength spell seemed to be helping Tristina. She surely would have collapsed in exhaustion by now without it, he thought.

Ahead, Yron could see a small stream crossing the prairie. That would be a good place to rest, feed, and water Tristina, he thought. The sun was not high in the sky, but it would still be best to rest under the cover of one of the small groves of trees that huddled against the bends in the stream. Guiding Tristina toward the nearest tree outcrop, he could tell that it was time to rest. Tristina stood in the water as the shade from the trees cast shadows across the stream where she drank deeply.

Satisfied they were safe, Yron filled the grain bag and hung it from one of the tree branches. When she had had enough to drink, Tristina came back to the shore and started eating the spring grass growing along the stream's edge.

Yron rested, leaning against one of the trees. He enjoyed watching Tristina move. It always looked as though her coat was one size too small, and he could see each defined muscle ripple as she walked. He smiled, watching her ignore her grain to enjoy every mouthful of the newly sprouted green grass that hugged the stream's edge.

Yron pulled some bread and dried meat from his pack. Turning to his back, he watched the hawks circling over the prairie looking for their next meal.

The piercing sound of a hawk overhead brought Yron back from his dream-like rest. Looking through the limbs of the tree, he saw it; a giant, tawny hawk with a rider! Yron wasn't sure if he had been spotted or if Tristina was the target of food for the giant hawk. Either option didn't bode well. As the rider continued to circle, Yron softly called Tristina to move under the trees.

Yron watched as the Hawkrider circled back around. To prevent being caught, he hid deeper in the tree limbs. Tristina had moved under the tree, and Yron could see that his Payleen had also focused on each movement of the Hawkrider.

Each time the Hawkrider circled, it got lower to the ground until it finally landed south of Yron's position. Slipping off the tawny mount, the rider crouched low in the tall grass and started to approach Tristina. The Hawkriders bow was drawn, but Yron remained motionless in the tree. It was apparent the Hawkrider had not seen him. Standing on the limb directly above Tristina, Yron slowly pulled a throwing knife from his belt. The Hawkrider stopped thirty feet away, standing motionless in the shadows watching Tristina.

The rider took a final step closer, notching an arrow in her bow. As she drew the bowstring back, Yron dropped from the tree, releasing his knife before he hit the ground. The knife buried itself just above the rider's wrist that was holding the bow. As the rider dropped the bow, Yron cast a Fire spell on the grass next to the hawk. The sudden flames caused the hawk to take flight. Yron immediately cast a Fear spell on the giant bird, knowing it would be some time before even the best-trained hawk would return.

Turning his attention to the rider, Yron pulled another throwing knife. "Now is not the time for foolishness," he said.

The rider watched Yron. She knew she had no options. "Back away from the bow," Yron continued, motioning for her to back up.

As she moved back, Yron recovered the bow. Laying a few feet away was Yron's throwing knife. She must have pulled it from her hand while Yron was chasing off the hawk. He picked up the knife and placed it back in his belt.

The Hawkrider was a young girl, not much older than sixteen or seventeen, with wavy, red hair, golden highlights, and enormous, gray eyes. He could see she was holding her right hand tight to her stomach. The blood from the knife wound was staining her garments. Yron had no idea what to do next. His instinct was to cast a Healing spell on the injury, but she was the enemy, wasn't she?

"Who are you, and what are you doing out here?" Yron demanded.

She looked at him without understanding. He motioned her to move toward the grove of trees where he had been sitting. Once there, he motioned her to sit down. He could see the fear in her eyes, as she knelt next to the tree. Reaching into his pack, he pulled out one of the ropes and began to bind her hands together.

As soon as she was securely tied, he threw the end of the rope over the limb where he had stood only moments ago. He pulled the rope tight, so she was nearly lifted off her feet, hanging from the limb with just her toes rubbing the ground. The Hawkrider screamed in pain. A quick search showed she had no other weapons.

Yron inspected her wrist and could see that the knife wound was clean but the barbs from the Crowl dagger had caused severe damage to the muscle in the forearm where the dagger had been improperly removed. The blade had made one incision completely through the arm, but it hadn't hit the bone.

Casting a Healing spell, Yron watched as the wound began to close, and the bleeding stopped. He wasn't sure if it was the revelation that he was a wizard or the healing of the wound that stopped her crying. One thing he knew for sure from personal experience, the healed wound would be very itchy for the next couple of days.

Yron's mind was racing. What should he do with this girl? If he left her, eventually the spell would wear off from the hawk, and it would return to find its rider. If he tied her up and left her, she would have no defense against wild animals. Taking her with him would only slow him down, and doubling up with her while they rode Tristina ensured the Payleen would tire faster. After weighing the options, Yron decided he couldn't leave the girl.

With the decision made, there was no time to waste. Yron cast a Charm spell on the girl to increase her cooperation and then placed her on Tristina's back. This didn't please Tristina at all. While Yron was trying to gather his belongings, and place them in a pack that he would carry, Tristina tried to knock the girl off by walking under low hanging tree limbs. That didn't work, so she tried to buck the girl off. Placing his hands on each side of Tristina's face, Yron looked into her eyes. After a few moments, Yron succeeded in calming Tristina. Though the girl was charmed, Yron didn't untie her hands.

Placing his pack on the back of the Payleen, he chanted a Strength spell on himself, so he could run and keep up with Tristina. He would run as far as he could, then he would double up with the girl until he was rested enough to run again.

Yron encouraged Tristina across the small stream. He expected that eventually, other Hawkriders would come looking for this girl. He would run as carefully as possible, attempting not to leave a trail, but he knew he would leave a trail that even a novice tracker could follow from the air. There was no time to be clever or try to hide his tracks, so his only hope was to reach the citizens from Yemenor before the other Hawkriders could catch up to them.

Tristina followed Yron as he headed west toward the people of Yemenor. Occasionally Yron would look back across the prairie, but there was no sign of Hawkriders – YET!

As the early sun broke through the window and cast its shadow of light across the room, Darmuth awoke to see Raaj chanting a magic spell on something he was holding. When Darmuth questioned him about what he was doing, Raaj quickly hid what he was working on and told him that it was nothing that concerned him.

Changing the subject, the Raaj added, "We need to start preparing you for the Inset. You will need to be strong enough to wield the sword once it is created." As Darmuth stood, Raaj detailed the exercise plan that Darmuth needed to incorporate into his daily schedule.

"It will take strength and endurance for you to wield that sword and without sufficient training, the sword will not serve you well. In fact, it will probably be the cause of your death. Yes, the Inset sword will give you the skills and swordsmanship to perform maneuvers beyond your own strength; however, if you are not strong enough to do the maneuvers, the individual you are fighting with will take advantage of your lack of strength, endurance, and/or reflexes, and you will die," Raaj concluded.

Darmuth wasn't sure he understood what Raaj was saying, but the thought of dying because he wasn't strong enough to use his brother's Inset sword didn't sit well with him. Darmuth listened to Raaj's instructions and began the training regimen the wizard had outlined. Raaj watched him train for a while before he returned to the chant he had been singing when Darmuth woke up.

After thirty minutes, Raaj turned to Darmuth, "It is time we head out. Get your belongings."

From the window, Raaj looked at the fields that were on fire. Farm wagons were piled high with goods, and a line of wagons was heading southeast. Darmuth could see Raaj watching him impatiently. Returning to his task, the young Prince quickly finished packing his things and followed Raaj out of the room.

Lord Kimberlee was standing at the entrance of the castle, as Raaj and the young Prince walked down the old, wooden staircase that led to the inner courtyard of the castle. He was issuing orders for the scouting parties that were assigned to seek out and kill any Shakarine scouts they found before the scouts could return and report back to the Shakarine commanders what they had seen. Raaj watched the scout patrols leave, heading toward the west.

"We need to talk privately," Lord Kimberlee suggested. Raaj nodded then the two men walked to a quiet corner of the stable. Lord Kimberlee looked at Raaj and said, "You have the King's son with you."

The two guards stationed themselves on each side of Havendar and Tarrie. Havendar couldn't tell if the guards were keeping the two from attempting an escape or if he and Tarrie were to be opponents for the day. Not knowing what to expect, Havendar stretched his hands away from his body to make sure he was able to keep his balance in case he needed to move quickly. Crouching, he noticed Tarrie had bent down slightly too. There was still no movement from the guards; they seemed to be casually standing to the side. Havendar made a quick glance around the arena. No one other than the trainer was approaching.

Suddenly, seeing the reflection of the sun off a moving sword, Havendar feared he was too late. Ducking, he spun to prepare for the attack from Tarrie. The trainer was still approaching. To not be caught off guard, Havendar started to slowly circle to his left. This would keep him further away from Tarrie's sword.

Tarrie hadn't moved yet. Havendar decided that surprise was his best weapon. Reaching down, he placed his hand on the ground, making it appear that he was going to defend himself from a three-point stance. Havendar grabbed a handful of dirt, as he slowly spun around. The guards still hadn't moved.

Havendar decided it was time for an attack. He did a forward roll out of the stance, and as he did so, he threw the dirt at Tarrie. He knew there was no chance for it to reach her eyes, but he was hoping it would cause her to flinch just enough to allow him to neutralize her sword arm. Just as he was beginning a spin roll maneuver to get behind Tarrie, Havendar caught the airborne movement out the corner of his eye.

Abandoning his attack on Tarrie, Havendar tried to avoid being hit by the flying object. "Here, use these! I believe they are yours," the guard said as a leather pouch landed a few feet to the left of Havendar. Neither the guards nor Tarrie moved.

Havendar made sure no one was moving toward him to attack before he reached down to grab the leather pouch. Unwrapping the bundle, he discovered his ranger weapons, as well as the weapons belt that had been taken from him when he was captured.

He had been mistaken. Apparently, there was no imminent attack. Havendar inspected each weapon, as he spread them on the ground before him. Picking up the weapons belt, he placed it over his shoulder and around his waist. Next, he inspected each of his weapons and placed them in its proper place. The belt was a little loose, and Havendar thought to himself that he must have lost weight. Thankfully, it was not so loose that it limited his ability to access his weapons; it just didn't fit as snugly as usual.

Smiling and embarrassed, Havendar turned toward Tarrie. He was ready now. He slid the battle knife from his left hip and started to circle to his left. He knew she was right-handed and that would play to his advantage. Her lack of experience was obvious. She wasn't moving with him, but rather, she was just standing there watching him as he circled.

"Stupid ranger," Tarrie said as she started to laugh mockingly. "I am not the opponent, they are."

Havendar turned to see where Tarrie was pointing. Two men dressed in chainmail armor and carrying shields and long swords were entering the arena from one of the doors in the wall. As the men approached, Havendar moved in front of Tarrie. He knew that until she was properly trained, he would need to provide her with protection. Havendar decided it would be best to practice at night when they were left alone in their cell. He could teach her some of the defensive ranger techniques that would help protect her if he wasn't able to.

The coach shouted, "Begin!" Havendar's instincts were to immediately attack, and he began to reach for a weapon. But before he had moved his hand, he remembered that he was pretending to not understand what the guards were saying. The two men began their approach. Havendar, pretending to be confused, looked back and forth between the approaching men and the coach. With each glance toward the coach, the man shouted "Begin" again.

Still, Havendar didn't move. Finally, when it was extremely apparent that the approaching men were preparing for an attack, Havendar reached for his throwing knife. Spinning around, he released the blade, piercing the closest attacker's arm, causing him to drop his sword. As Havendar completed his spin, he ducked and kicked his legs out, capturing the second attacker's legs between his own. Rolling quickly, the attacker fell to the ground. Havendar continued his roll, ending on the attacker's back, his battle knife resting against the attacker's throat.

The coach was hollering for Havendar to stop. Havendar watched the wounded attacker. Finally, he looked at the trainer, then back toward Tarrie. "Ranger, stop!" she ordered. Havendar relaxed, but he didn't take the knife from the attacker's neck. "Ranger! Stop!" Tarrie repeated firmly. Havendar pulled his knife from the attacker's neck, sliding it slightly across the skin on his neck, leaving a small cut that started to bleed.

In the stands of the arena, someone was applauding. Havendar looked up and saw the Lord who had bought them from the slave market standing with two other men. All three of them were clapping. "Now, teach him to fight to wound," the Lord ordered, and he and his companions walked away from the bleachers where they had been sitting.

Havendar turned to Tarrie, "You are lucky this time," he said. "You need to learn how to fight."

"Thank you, ranger," Tarrie responded. As she lowered her sword to her side, Havendar thought he detected a slight smile on her face, but if he had, it vanished as quickly as it was seen. Havendar appreciated the lack of her usual arrogance, and he had to admit that he liked playing the role of her protector. Tonight, he would start her first sword lesson.
Chapter 18

The catapults were positioned perfectly. The opposing army was unable to see the catapults when they charged, so their first indication of heavy artillery was the burning barrels filled with oil and tar crashing down around them and exploding on impact. During the night, Myningar taught the catapult crews how to use horses to reset the launching arm of the catapult. This knowledge almost tripled their firing rate.

Within minutes, the middle section of the charging Warteen army was either on fire or slowed to a stop in their attempt to avoid the large sections of the flaming field. This bottled up half of the charging troops, while the lead portion of the enemy army that had been unharmed by the catapult attack continued its charge. The Warteen officers on horseback leading the first portion from the front of the Warteen army re-sounded the message to charge.

Myningar signaled that he wanted the archers to attack the middle section of the still charging army with their first three volleys. The fourth volley was to attack the leading edge of the charging enemy. The archers that Myningar used as his marksmen had been were separated from the other archers; they were to save their arrows and only attack the officers or those that were issuing the attack orders.

Kneeling on the ground hidden behind the ridge, each of the archers had a dozen arrows stuck in the ground in front of them. This allowed them easy access to their arrows, thus, providing them with the ability to unleash their first twelve volleys of arrows within sixty seconds rather than the three minutes it would normally take. Additionally, all archers had their arrow notched in their bow waiting for Myningar's order to fire.

When the attacking soldiers were within one hundred and fifty feet of the ridge, Myningar gave the order to fire. As the last volley cleared their bows, King Holben gave the order for the foot soldiers to charge.

King Holben's soldiers ran between the archers and charged the attacking Warteen warriors. The two armies clashed about a hundred feet from the top of the ridge. From the top of the ridge, Myningar's archers continued to fire arrows at the Warteen soldiers that were bunched up behind the front line. The marksmen archers had taken out most the officers, along with anyone they saw ordering the soldiers during the first few minutes of the fight.

The Warteen army was in disarray. They were tired from charging the hill and had the unfortunate circumstance of fighting over their dead and wounded comrades. Yemenite archers had mowed down a large portion of the army that had made it through the firewall, and the Warteen knew any reinforcements that they might have were caught behind a wall of fire.

The front wheels of the catapults were lifted, and more weight was added to the counterbalances, giving the catapults additional firing range. Within minutes, the catapults created another firewall further down the hill from the first, trapping another large portion of the Warteen army between the two walls of flame.

Caught between the firewalls, the Warteen army was stranded, just as Lord Myningar had expected. The trapped Warteen couldn't attack forward nor retreat backward through the flames. Their officers had been killed, and the wind was blowing the smoke from the fire down the hill, blinding the remainder of the army.

Lord Myningar turned to the King's signaler. "It's time," he ordered. The trumpeter sounded his horn, and the flag-waver began to wave the red flag, signaling the men to charge. From the west, Lord Fanver and the cavalry attacked the Warteen warriors that were caught in the middle of the battlefield behind the first firewall.

The Yemenite cavalry rode hard, swinging their swords at any Warteen warrior within reach. Their orders had been to pass through the entire army as fast as they could and take out as many of the barbarian warriors as possible, not stopping their charge to fight. Once Lord Fanver charged through the Warteen army, he looked back. He could see a few horses standing within the Warteen ranks, each of them denoting a fallen Yemenor cavalryman. But there was no time to mourn.

The horn blew again, with the double red flags waving. The Warteen troops turned and braced for the cavalry charge to begin again. However, with the second trumpet sound, the cavalry didn't turn and charge the Warteen barbarians that they had just attacked. Instead, Lord Fanver and his men attacked the Warteen warriors that were caught behind the two walls of fire.

From his vantage point, Lord Myningar could see Lord Canter and his men dressed as Shakarine soldiers beginning to run onto the field of battle behind the Warteen army. Initially, the arrival of the Shakarine-dressed warriors caused a stir in the ranks of the Warteen because they didn't know who the army that was charging onto the battlefield behind them was. Once they accepted that the new arrivals were reinforcements, a shout went up amongst the Warteen troops. Word spread quickly of the new arrivals.

The plan went better than Lord Myningar had expected. The bulk of Canter's men had arrived behind the Warteen command center. He knew Lord Canter would seize the opportunity to capture the Warteen commanders.

On the battlefield, Lord Fanver finished his second sword-wielding cavalry charge. Once they regrouped, they had been ordered to circle through the trees and back behind the catapults where they were to wait. Lord Fanver didn't turn to look at the battlefield this time. Instead, he led his cavalry through the trees flanking the King's forces. He knew his men needed rest and regrouping behind the catapults would give his men just that.

To prevent his men from being attacked by friendly fire, Lord Fanver signaled the trumpeter to sound notice that they were approaching from the flank. Just as the trumpeter started to notify their troops behind the ridge of their approach, Lord Fanver was struck by an arrow. Looking around, he realized that an army of Warteen swordsmen and archers were prepared to flank Lord Myningar and the army that was behind the ridge.

Lord Fanver's last order before he fell from his horse was to his signaler who sounded a warning of the enemy presence on Lord Myningar's flank. The trumpeter got the first message off and was in the process of repeating the warning when an arrow struck him as well, stopping the horn blast mid-message.

Lord Myningar heard the trumpeter's message. As he turned toward the sound, a cloud of arrows filled the air. The commander of the swordsmen who were standing in reserve heard the trumpeter's warning as well. He issued the order of shields up. Despite the warning, the Warteen arrows caught over half of the reinforcements unprepared. A third of Myningar's men lie dead or wounded on the valley floor behind the catapults.

Myningar's remaining reinforcements assembled in a defensive formation in time to protect themselves from the second wave of arrows. Unfortunately, they had little time to prepare to defend against the charging Warteen foot warriors. When the Warteen troops charged into Myningar's reinforcements, they drove them back to the catapults.

Lord Atarr, Lord Fanver's second-in-command, understanding the danger of the situation, ordered the cavalry to attack the archers. As Myningar's reinforcements attempted to form a defensive line, the third wave of arrows from the Warteen archers came hailing down on the troops. This time, the soldiers were prepared. The swordsmen raised their shields over their heads to protect the soldier in front of them from the falling arrows, with the soldiers behind them doing the same. As all the soldiers did this, it developed a formation that allowed for a protective web of shields which prevented further casualties.

Myningar ordered his archers to turn and fire on the Warteen charging troops. They were only able to get one volley of arrows off before the Warteen troops bunched up behind the battle line. The trumpeter sounded for longbows, but Myningar canceled the order to fire on the enemy archers as he watched the cavalry attack sweep through them.

Myningar's archers were decimating the Warteen soldiers bunched up behind the battle line. The Warteen archers continued to fire arrows at the Yemenite reinforcements but had total disregard for their own troops.

Myningar's defensive web of shields limited the Warteen archer's effect on his troops. The Warteen foot soldiers weren't so lucky, as volley after volley of arrows from the Warteen archers struck their troops in the back as they fired on Myningar's reinforcements.

Lord Myningar's troops were beginning to fall back, and they needed help. Turning to Lord Hofteen, the War Lord that Lord Myningar had placed second-in-command, he shouted, "You're in charge!" With that, Lord Myningar dropped down from the battle platform he had been standing on with King Holben. Raising his sword above his head, he yelled, "Charge!!"

Lord Myningar charged the enemy's front line. His war cry could be heard above the fighting fray. As he raced toward the front line, many of the reinforcement troops who were retreating took courage and turned to join Lord Myningar as he charged. Twenty yards behind Lord Myningar, scrambling to catch up, ran his bodyguards who was caught by surprise at Lord Myningar's charge into the front line.

As Myningar's troops realized their commander was fighting beside them, a shout arose, "My-Nin-Gar! My-Nin-Gar! My-Nin-Gar! My-Nin-Gar! My-Nin-Gar!" With each shout, the army's courage revived. He was their commander. He was their friend. He was willing to die with them, and they would follow him to the depths of Devla.

There was no time to waste. Yron needed to find the citizens of Yemenor who were fleeing from the castle. Since he had been running for several hours, the fatigue in his legs was beginning to set in. Yron ran through the pain. He knew the slower pace would help Tristina rest, and she needed it. They ran for another thirty minutes until Yron was unable to continue. As he mounted Tristina, holding the girl between himself and the neck of the Payleen, he could tell Tristina's strength had partially returned.

Feeling Yron's urgency, Tristina lengthened her stride, as she raced across the plain. The sun was directly overhead, so Yron looked to the horizon to find a guiding point to keep him on course. To the north, he could see mountain ridges. Somewhere along those mountains, he would find the citizens from Yemenor. Several miles away, he could see a ridgeline. If he could climb to the peak of that ridgeline, he would have a vantage point to spot the fleeing Yemenite citizens.

Closing his eyes to focus, Yron began to chant the Strength spell he had created for Tristina. Even though the chants had some effect on Tristina, he continued to change the words, the cadence, and the tone of the chant, hoping to find a way to modify the spell from a personal strength spell into one that could more adequately provide strength for his Payleen.

The sun began to cast a two o'clock shadow as it crested the tops of the tallest trees. Yron still hadn't been able to find a chant that seemed to provide Tristina with much help. While concentrating on developing the Strength spell was nearly futile, there was always a chance he could find the right combination of words, cadence, and tone to create a new spell. In the distance, Yron could see another stream meandering across the prairie. He would rest Tristina there, as he magically attempted to locate Master Raaj.

To do so, he would need to cast the Track spell. This was frowned upon in the magic world because the chant required the wizard to know the True Name of the individual to be tracked. It also required the chant to be done vocally, therefore, anyone near enough to hear the chant would know the True Name of the person being tracked.

The True Name spell which, before the time of the Shadow Wars, was used by all wizards along with those of the elite classes, the royalty, and the rich aristocrats was now secretly used by some wizards and those guilds that practiced Earth Magic, an older form of magic that allowed for the control of the Elements. Without a True Name, the Track spell ceased to function, thus, the Track spell had become one of the lost spells.

It was Lord Malkanard's use of a Soul Capture spell, which he developed, that allowed him to cast the spell by using a person's True Name and then take total control of all their actions. By the time Lord Malkanard's treachery was discovered, he has used the spell to take control of many kings, lords, and wizards of the lands in Southern Carbynarah. Lord Malkanard was eventually defeated during the Shadow Wars, after almost two hundred years of war. After his defeat, his Celest was trapped by a Soulset spell and case into a wizard's staff made from the root of the ancient Koa tree. To this day, only the Grand Master of the Wizards' Guild knows where the staff is located and the traps that keep it hidden. That information is kept secret and is passed on to the Grand Master's maiggii as the Master nears death.

Yron was barely fourteen years old when the Naming spell was cast on him. After Raaj cast the spell, Yron was instructed to continue to kneel at the altar and meditate until he had become aware of the Name he knew was his. Then he was to write the name in the ancient script on the polished metal plate attached to the top of the altar. He had stayed there for hours, and when a name finally came to him, he wrote it on the metal plate. Yron remembered poking his finger so it would bleed and then using the quill to inscribe his name with his blood. After the True Name was written, the fire elemental that stood guard at the altar burned the blood away, as Raaj finished chanting the last part of the True Name spell. Yron now had his True Name.

As Yron approached the stream, Tristina slowed. She was aware she would be able to rest by the water for a little while. Yron lifted the girl from Tristina's back and tied her to one of the trees. Removing his pack and the stirrups from Tristina allowed her to graze while Yron left the water's edge to find a secluded place to cast the Tracking spell.

After walking almost half a mile away from where his Payleen was grazing, Yron double-checked the surrounding area. Ensuring he was alone, he cast the Silence spell. Chanting the Tracking spell could take a while, depending on Raaj's willingness to be found. He remembered the pull on his Celest when, many years ago, he had gotten lost in the mines. Raaj used the Tracking spell to find him. When he cast the spell, Raaj would know someone who knew his true name was searching for him.

Yron hoped Raaj would realize it was him and be receptive to the spell. Fortunately, within a few minutes, Raaj revealed his location. He was at least a week's travel to the northwest, further than Yron had thought. Yron knew Tristina need to rest or she wouldn't have the strength to make the distance.

Looking across the prairie, Yron calculated that he could reach the forest at the foothills of the mountain range by dusk, where he would rest. Traveling at night, while not the fastest method, was the safest. He knew a decision about his captive needed to be made. Letting her go free seemed like the only option, but he believed the choice didn't need to be made right now. First, he needed to get to the tree line that fronted the mountain foothills. From there, Yron would travel along the forest edge until he met up with the people of Yemenor.

When Yron arrived back at the stream's edge, Tristina was standing, waiting, and watching. He grabbed his pack and slipped the stirrups over Tristina's front shoulders. Yron was almost disappointed that the girl had not escaped; if she had, it would have made traveling a lot easier. Next, he lifted the girl onto the Payleen's back. "Tristina, it isn't much further until we rest, girl," he said, as he scratched the Payleen between the ears.

Looking back across the plains, Yron could see no sign of any Hawkriders following. With that small sign of encouragement, he mounted Tristina, and they headed directly for the foothills and the tree line.

King Timon stood at the window of the tent watching Yron on his Payleen race across the prairie. As he vanished out of sight, the King slowly turned back toward the War Council. He wondered if the young lad had any idea just how important his mission was. As he walked back to those standing around the table, the King could see his concerns echoed in the faces of each of his warlords.

"Your Majesty, do you think we should send a second messenger?" one of the lords asked.

Many of the other lords nodded in agreement, but the King replied, "No, this young man has the heart of a warrior. If it is possible to make it, he will do so." Studying the lords around the table, he continued, "Do not be fooled by his demeanor. There is nobility in him that defies words. You all saw it – he rides a Payleen." Almost as though the King were whispering a secret, he said, "He is not what he appears to be."

The tent was silent, as the King reflected on what he was saying. Muttering under his breath as if to reassure himself of his own decision, he said, "He successfully delivered the message to us; Master Raajanaar trusted him."

Outside the tent, the sounds of an army preparing to march created the background for the remainder of the War Council. The horses were being brought to the west side of the camp where the first army was staging to leave to protect the citizens fleeing from the castle. As the meeting ended, the King summed up their plans.

"Lord Baintor, you will lead the first contingency of our army to rescue our people. This will require you to take all the extra horses. I want to try a new forced march strategy. Everyone – this includes you – will take turns riding the horses while the others march. I want one hour on the horse, three hours marching. No rest the first night and only six hours of rest each night after that. Is that understood?" the King asked.

"Yes, Your Majesty. We will not fail you," responded Lord Baintor.

"My dear friend, if I thought you would fail, I would not be sending you," the King replied. "You will be given cold rations to eat on the march. There will only be enough food to reach the fleeing citizenry. The lighter you travel, the better," the King continued.

"Once you meet up with the citizens of Yemenor, protect their rear flank. Place the women and children on the horses and have your guides lead them to Benflyn Dor immediately. The horses are to help speed up their retreat.

I want you to set up small groups of archers along the trail after you have passed to terrorize the Shakarine troops if they chase after the fleeing population. Our goal is for each archer to take out three or four of the enemy troops preferably their leaders, then run ahead and relocate so they can attack the enemy forces again. I hope that by doing this we will impede the Shakarine approach," the King continued. "Go now."

Lord Baintor nodded and left the tent.

"Lord Capnar, you will be leading the main body. You need to arrive within two days of Lord Baintor's arrival." The King looked at Capnar for understanding. "Once you and Baintor join up, I need Lord Baintor to be responsible for getting our people to Benflyn Dor as fast as possible. You will need to explain that to Baintor because he will want to stay in the fight." The King continued, "You can go now. There is much to be done." With a bow, Lord Capnar departed the tent.

The flaps of the tent were lifted, giving the King the ability to watch the final preparations of the first contingency. Lord Baintor barked orders, as the army that would be leaving with him made their final preparations.

The remaining War Council stood silently, watching the first army prepare to leave. After a few moments, the trumpet sounded. Lord Baintor marched in front of the army, the wind whipping his banner and, as expected, he was on foot. The King smiled; he doubted that his young lord would ride his horse one step of the way. That type of leadership was typical of the King's lords.

As the army began its march, the King leaned against the table. Conflict was raging within his heart. As a warrior, he wanted to be there marching alongside Lord Baintor, but as the King, he was responsible to prepare the fallback place for his fleeing people.

The King turned to another member of his War Council and stated, "Once the second army leaves, I need you to lead a group to Benflyn Dor to make the necessary preparations to defend the entrance, along with preparations needed to get the people, food, and other supplies to the top of the plateau."

"I need a volunteer to ride to the Kingdom of Holben, find Lord Myningar and Fanver, and bring them and their armies to the plateau," the King requested.

"I will," came a voice from behind the King. Dressed in chainmail armor and holding a sword and shield, stood the King's daughter, Sartura.

The King's head dropped, as he closed his eyes, shaking his head. "No," he replied.

"My older brother lies dying on the bed in the other room, my younger brother is missing, our mother is fleeing the castle with the remaining citizens, and you expect me to stay here doing nothing," she continued with defiance in her beautiful, aqua-blue eyes. "That is not fair. That is not what you advocate. You have told me all my life that even royalty must do their part." The King shook his head but remained silent.

"Then it is agreed," she concluded. Turning, she marched out of the tent, her long, black hair flowing slightly in the warm breeze.

Chapter 19

When Raaj and Darmuth arrived in the courtyard, Kimberlee was well on his way to creating the illusion that would fool the Shakarine into believing the castle was still fully functional. Outside the castle, a few straggling wagons were on the move to the southeast.

In the fields outside the castle to the west, laborers were digging trenches and filling them with tar and oil before sprinkling slightly burnt straw over the top. From the ground, the trenches seemed to blend into the burned fields. Kimberlee had his men building and placing dummies stuffed with straw along the parapet wall.

Archers were setting out buckets filled with arrows, so they could move around the castle walls, firing at the Shakarine troops at will. An unlit torch was mounted to the side of each archer station. Below, on the ground, was a bucket of tar. The arrows had been wrapped with cloth and placed alongside the bucket of tar. They would become valuable when it was time to light the tar trenches on fire.

In the courtyard, arrow crafters were busy making longbow arrows. Laborers were preparing food to feed the troops. From where Darmuth was sitting, he could smell bread baking in the kitchen. Smoke from the barbecue pits was drifting over the top of the castle wall to the east.

From the main gate, Darmuth could see Raaj talking with Lord Kimberlee. Raaj was pointing to the west toward where the Shakarine would be coming. Kimberlee and Raaj were having a disagreement. The two men stood arguing for quite a while. Finally, both men moved to one of the food tables and started to eat.

Darmuth decided to join them. Climbing down from his perch on the castle wall, he approached the two men.

"He cannot stay," Lord Kimberlee repeated.

"His father entrusted me with his safety. If he must leave, then so must I," Raaj countered.

The sound of his approach caused Raaj to look up and see Darmuth entering the dining area. "We have company. We can discuss this later," Raaj said.

Kimberlee looked up and, upon seeing Darmuth, started to bow.

"What do you think you are doing?" Raaj asked Kimberlee. "Bowing to my apprentice doesn't send the right signal."

"Damn, I don't know what I was thinking," Kimberlee replied with a sigh.

Darmuth joined the two men, and all three ate in silence. Finally, Darmuth spoke up. "I heard what you were saying. Just so there is no doubt in anyone's mind, I am no coward, and I will stay here with Master Raaj and defend this castle and protect the escape of the people of our city as long as we can."

Both men looked at each other then continued their meal.

Darmuth continued, "As for hiding who I am, that stops now. These men have the right to know the King's son stands with them, that they are not making these sacrifices alone. If it is right, just, and true for them to defend our people, then it is more right, just, and true that I stand with them in that defense."

With that, Darmuth flung back the hood that had hung over his head all day, removed the cloak, and sat back down to eat.

Raaj looked over at his young friend. There is true nobility running through his veins, he thought to himself. Reaching over, Raaj placed his arm around the young Prince. "Thank you!" he whispered.

Turning toward Darmuth, he continued, "Tomorrow, you and I will head west. Perhaps Abinya will be able to spot the Shakarine troops. Perhaps we can determine how much time we have until they attack. Additionally, we will check on the scouts along the forest edges and make sure they have sufficient supplies to last them until the Shakarine army has passed. Only then will they escape through the woods and catch up with the rest of us."

Darmuth nodded. Kimberlee began to protest, but a look from Darmuth was all it took to end his objection.

"Darmuth, it is time for you to begin your exercises. We will do them in our room," Raaj said.

Raaj and Darmuth stood, leaving Kimberlee sitting at the dining table. "Goodnight, Lord Kimberlee," Darmuth whispered.

"Good night Your Maj—" Kimberlee stopped mid-sentence.

Spinning around, Raaj glared at Kimberlee, "What are you doing?" he demanded.

The look on Kimberlee's face told Raaj that he realized what he had done. The wizard knew there was no need to say anything more. Darmuth's identity was a secret to be kept until the right time arrived.

Halfway up the stairs, Raaj felt as though the wind had been knocked out of him. Sitting down, he could remember the feeling. Someone had cast a Tracking spell to find him. With his mind racing, he decided the only possibility was Yron, but why would he be looking for him? He was specifically told to stay with King Timon. It was unlike Yron to be disobedient. Something must be wrong; why else would his maiggii be looking for him?

Then it dawned on Raaj. If Yron were searching for him, he would be traveling to Yemenor to find him. By the time he got here, the castle would be filled with Shakarine.

The piercing sound of the hawk's cries echoed across the prairie. There was no need to look back; Yron knew the Hawkriders were quickly approaching. From the sound, he estimated there were less than two miles between them. Ever since he cast the Charm spell on his captured Hawkrider, there had been no resistance; however, he was afraid the screeching of the Hawkrider above could snap his captive out of the influence of the Charm spell.

From what Yron could tell, the Hawkriders were circling more and more to the south. It was obvious they were unable to track Tristina. He surmised that the Hawkriders' failure to spot him was due to the Payleen's ability to leave no trace, neither tracks on the ground nor the dust trails that were the telltale signs of other horses. Yron spotted trees on the bottom ledge of the cliff that was at the base of the mountain range ahead. If he could make it to those trees, he would be able to hide until the Hawkriders passed. This would give them time to rest before they made the push to find Raaj and the fleeing Yemenite citizens.

By the time Yron reached the tree line, the Hawkriders were no longer in sight. He rode west along the foothills of the mountain range looking for a place to rest for a few hours. Dismounting, Yron walked ahead with his Payleen following close behind. His captive Hawkrider had awakened and, as she had for most of the ride, continued trying to engage Yron in conversation.

Following the tree line around a small bend, Yron heard trickling water. A drink of water from a cold mountain spring was just what was needed to provide a great spot to rest. Turning to Tristina, he asked her to stay while he went to explore the mountain spring. As he ducked through the underbrush, he could hear his prisoner objecting to being left alone. After struggling thought ten feet of underbrush, Yron found a small grass outcrop where the trees had grown over the top, providing a canopy that blocked direct sunlight. About fifteen feet across the small clearing was a small stream. Branches blocked the stream, causing a pool of water.

"Ah, perfect," Yron uttered to himself. The temptation to take a quick drink before he returned to fetch Tristina and his prisoner was appealing, but Yron had barely entered the thicket between this small grass outcrop and the prairie's edge, when he came face to face with his captive.

"I told you to stay. Can't you listen?" Yron asked.

"It was taking you so long. But what does it matter? Your silly horse knocked me off. I am thirsty," she rambled.

Talking to her was impossible. Each time he tried to say something, she would interrupt him with another topic. Yron watched her enter the clearing before he could head back and bring Tristina through the thicket. Before stepping out from the underbrush onto the prairie's edge, Yron searched the horizon. There was no dust cloud to the west signaling to him that the fleeing citizens of Yemenor were not anywhere close, and to the southeast, there was no sign of Hawkriders.

Yron whistled for his Payleen, and within moments she had passed through the underbrush and was standing in front of him. Once Tristina made it to the clearing, Yron stepped back out onto the prairie. Tucking the undergrowth and moving the vines to cover the broken branches his young captive had tromped through was easier than he expected. Reaching down, he gently lifted the grass blades that had been smashed to the ground by her footsteps.

When everything looked normal, Yron reentered the underbrush. He was careful, as he approached the clearing. Across the way, he could see Tristina was enjoying drinking from the small pool of water that had formed at the far side of the clearing. To the left, his young prisoner was lying down resting. Yron opened his traveling pack and pulled out a few pieces of dried meat, a loaf of bread, and a leather pouch of honey. Sitting down, he shared it with his captive.

"Yron," he said pointing to himself.

"Brelyah," she responded.

Yron nodded and smiled, not knowing what else to say. Stirring deep inside him was an uncomfortable feeling, a feeling he had never experienced. Yron was relieved she didn't say anything more. He watched, as she finished the piece of bread he had handed her. Leaning back on the grass, he watched Tristina feed on the grass that grew along the stream. It was only a matter of minutes before Brelyah had fallen asleep.

Quietly, Yron stood up and walked over to Tristina. He ran his fingers through her mane and scratched behind her ears. It had been a long time since he'd had some quiet time with her. He knew she must be exhausted. They had been carrying messages for almost a week now.

Cupping his hands, Yron bent down and drew a handful of water from the pond. The water was so cool and refreshing that he knelt to drink directly from the spring. The cool water seemed to refresh him to the bone. Closing his eyes, he continued to drink directly from the stream. Alongside him, Yron could hear Tristina doing the same.

Without warning, Tristina suddenly stopped. Yron turned to see what had caused her to stop moving, and he felt a sudden bump on his back. Losing his balance, he fell forward into the stream. Head spinning, waist-deep in the pond, a vision of a feisty Tristina kicking her rear legs in the air as she ran off was the only thing Yron could see.

The commotion had awakened Brelyah, and the sight of her lying on the grass laughing out loud only added to Yron's humiliation. Yron stood and climbed out of the pool. Looking around, Yron knew there was nothing he could do or say that would change the situation. Out of sheer frustration, he began to laugh too. As he chuckled, Tristina turned and galloped toward him.

Reaching out with her nose, she nestled her head against Yron. It wasn't an apology, but it was the best he was going to get. He grabbed both sides of her head and scratched her cheeks and ears. Memories of happier times flooded Yron's mind, as he remembered the fun times the two of them had had as they played and roughhoused in the fields outside the homestead. It seemed so far in the past, perhaps a lifetime ago, yet it was only nine days ago that Darmuth had ridden into their lives.

Reaching for his pack, Yron pulled out a set of dry clothes. It was his shoes that would be the problem. Yron removed his shoes and placed them on one of the rock outcrops. Brelyah continued to giggle, as she lay back down on the grass, but within moments, her grey eyes closed, and she had fallen asleep again. He stood there watching her breathe then decided he would cast Alarm spells ten feet around her to notify him if she tried to escape.

From where he stood, Yron could see a thicket across the pond. He decided it would be the perfect place to change. He could even see a series of stones that would give him the ability to cross the small pool dryly. Tristina had settled down and was grazing on the lush grass growing alongside the stream. All is well, he thought. The short time here in this small clearing had rejuvenated them both. He would get changed, and then they would continue onward to meet the fleeing Yemenite refugees.

After crossing the stream, Yron followed an overgrown game path that trailed around behind the thicket of underbrush. Hanging his wet clothes on the branches, Yron changed. He couldn't figure out the reason for the game path, though. It appeared to end in twenty to thirty feet where it met a sheer cliff wall that erupted from the edge of the clearing.

Yron took a second to check on his captive and Tristina, then followed the trail toward the cliff. As he approached the wall, the trail ended. He was about to turn back when he noticed a branch reaching out of the middle of the cliff wall where the trail ended. Without the protruding branch, he wouldn't have noticed the crevice that allowed the trail to continue.

Myningar hit the battle line at a dead run. As he broke through the line, he ordered his men to charge. When the reserve reinforcements saw Lord Myningar charge the front line, they followed. That was all the encouragement Myningar's men needed to intensify their attack and push back the Warteen forces.

As the cavalry mopped up the archers, Myningar's troops advanced. Within a matter of minutes, they had reorganized and forced the Warteen forces to retreat through the woods. By the time Lord Myningar returned to the commander platform overlooking the battlefield, the Warteen troops were retreating, fighting their way back through the fire lines. Myningar ordered the catapults to stop firing. The remaining troops were ordered to follow the Warteen troops until they met up with the troops who were dressed as Shakarine warriors.

By midday, the Warteen troops had retreated out of the valley. Scouts were sent to follow and provide a status report on where the Warteen troops were headed. The troops that were held in reserve were placed to guard the top of the ridge, and the remaining troops were ordered behind the ridge to rest.

King Holben's subjects and their wagons collected the wounded soldiers and brought them back to camp where the Healers could tend to their wounds. Behind the tree line, Myningar heard the trumpeter's sound calling off the pursuit of the Warteen by the cavalry. It took almost an hour before Lord Atarr returned.

"Lord Myningar, Lord Fanver has fallen," the second-in-command reported.

Lord Myningar's lips tightened. He looked off into the distance, back toward Yemenor, then turned. "We need to find him. He will need a proper burial," he responded.

"I will send some men to go find him," the cavalry commander said.

"No," Lord Myningar whispered, "We should do it ourselves. Do you know where he fell?"

"He fell where we were initially attacked," the commander replied sadly.

The cavalry commander climbed off his horse, and the two men walked into the forest, with the commander holding the reins of his horse and his mount following behind.

It wasn't long before the trees muffled the sounds of the battlefield. Lord Myningar realized he hadn't ordered care for the wounded Shakarine forces, but his concerns were quickly dismissed. He knew his officers would care for any wounded enemies. The two men walked in silence, Myningar thinking about his fallen friend, the Lord's wife, and their three boys, all safely back at the castle in Yemenor.

Oh, how he wished he had found a woman who would love him as Lord Fanver's wife cherished him. He knew it was he who would have to tell her of her fallen husband.

They searched for several hours, but there was no sign of his fallen friend. The cavalry commander reported that the arrow had struck Lord Fanver, and the next arrow had found the trumpeter; however, there was no sign of either man, and it was beginning to get dark. They found a couple of wounded cavalrymen and placed them on some of the horses of their fallen companions. It was time to head back to camp with the wounded.

Upon reaching camp, Lord Myningar requested that King Holben send people into the forest in search of any additional wounded soldiers. The King obliged. "King Holben, if they happen to find Lord Fanver, please have them mark the spot. I would like to recover his body myself," requested Lord Myningar.

Lord Myningar looked over the battlefield and sighed deeply. Such a waste of life, he thought. So many good men lost, and so many women would go to bed tonight not realizing they were now widows. So many children would no longer have a father. His sorrow was more than he wanted anyone to see. Walking away from the camp, he found a rock to sit on, and he just stared out over the valley, watching the sun dip below the horizon.

It was the trumpets sounding the end of the day that brought Lord Myningar out of his self-imposed trance. He knew it was time to visit the wounded. He didn't know what he liked less, telling one of his fallen soldiers' wives that they were now a widow, or looking into the eyes of a man who had lost a limb, knowing he would never walk again or was near death.

He walked from bedroll to bedroll, making small talk and thanking the men for their sacrifices. It was Lord Myningar's belief that if he could look his men in the eye and order them to fight, he would also need to look them in the eye and thank them for what they had done. The moons were high in the sky by the time he finished talking with his wounded men.

Now it was time to visit the rest of his troops. The scouts hadn't returned by the time he finished walking through the tents of the remainder of his army. He gave word to his assistant to wake him when the scouts returned, then grabbed his bedroll. Tonight, he would sleep with his troops.

Chapter 20

Havendar retrieved his throwing knife from where the guard tossed it after he had pulled it from his arm. Wiping the blade on his pant leg, he placed it back into his belt. While Havendar was getting the knife, the coach tried to talk to him and explain that arena fighting was different. The objective was to win, not to kill or maim your opponents.

Havendar ignored the coach, acting as though he didn't understand what the man was saying. When Havendar didn't respond, the coach went right up to Havendar and spoke directly into his face. Havendar tried to explain with sign language that he didn't understand what the coach was saying. Finally, in frustration, Tarrie translated for the coach.

"Havendar, you need to stop playing this game. Just do what they say. If you keep this up, I will tell them the truth," Tarrie said.

"We will talk about this later when we get back to the room," Havendar responded curtly.

The coach spent the rest of the afternoon showing Havendar and Tarrie how to attack their opponents so the referee would call the fight. Havendar didn't like fighting for show, but he was slightly relieved to know, that if he was unable to defend Tarrie, the opponents might wound her, but it wouldn't be their intention to kill her.

Havendar couldn't understand the purpose of the fight, aside from putting on a show, so he asked Tarrie. She asked the coach, and in return, he answered her, explaining that if a fighter won enough fights, he or she would be moved to other arenas. If enough fights were won, eventually they would be moved to the big arena. Win enough in the big arena, and they would be set free. Lose too many fights, and they would be sent to the salt mines in the north.

It had been a long time since Havendar had trained in fighting. As the afternoon wore on, he started to feel fatigue in his arms and back and was drenched in sweat. Worse, he was becoming increasingly frustrated with Tarrie, as she wasn't trying at all. In fact, he felt as though she was expecting him to fight for their freedom all by himself.

By the end of the day, Havendar's frustration was at its peak. He couldn't wait to get Tarrie alone in their cell. He was going to give her a piece of his mind. He was tired of her standing around and acting like a princess.

As the guards accompanied them back toward their cell, they were greeted by the Lord who had bought them. "We need to involve the woman tomorrow," he said to the coach. "From what I have seen, I am sure they can do very well here in the local arena with him defending her and her standing watching, but I did not buy them to entertain the local population. I expect for them to fight in the big arena."

The coach nodded then ordered the guards to take the prisoners to their cell. Turning to Tarrie, he said, "You will have to do more than stand around looking pretty holding that sword." To Havendar he added, "You will need to learn to speak our language."

The cell door shut behind Havendar and Tarrie. They were left alone, but it wouldn't be long before the guards would make their rounds to serve them dinner. Havendar decided he needed to wait to have his conversation with Tarrie.

Havendar was right. It wasn't long before both he and Tarrie took their bowls to the door and were each given a ladle full of stew. Tonight, they ate in silence. Havendar finished first and leaned back on two legs of his chair. He cleared his throat to begin talking.

Before he could say anything, he lost his balance, and the chair toppled over with him in it. The smile that broke out on Tarrie's face proved to Havendar that she had slipped her toe under his chair and lifted the front leg, throwing him off balance so that he would crash to the ground.

As quickly as the smile appeared, it was hidden. Havendar lay on the ground until he eventually couldn't help but burst out in laughter. "You she devil," he whispered to Tarrie. He continued to laugh, as he picked up his chair and moved it further away from her. He sat down and leaned back on the rear two legs again. He acted relaxed but kept a keen eye on Tarrie to make sure she couldn't do a repeat performance.

Sartura smiled as she left the War Council tent, knowing her timing had been perfect. She had given her father no option. As King, he couldn't refuse her volunteering; however, as her father, she could see in his eyes that he was furious. There was no time to spare, so Sartura went directly to the stables and saddled her horse. Once the horse was ready, she climbed on and rode out of the camp immediately, her small pack hanging over her shoulder. She didn't want to give her father any time to reconsider.

As Sartura cleared the eastern edge of the camp, she looked back over her shoulder for one last look at the war tent. She wondered if her father watched her leave camp, as he had watched the courier. Would there be a tear in his eye?

She knew Lord Myningar was defending King Holben's castle to the northeast, but she had no clue as to where exactly that was. Fortunately, her plan was simple. She would ride northeast until she found a farmhouse, pub, or inn where she would ask for directions to the Holben Kingdom.

King Timon stood at the door of the tent watching his daughter ride across the prairie. The dust from her horse's hooves created a long, drawn-out dust cloud that drifted across the prairie for almost a mile. The decision to let her go was not easy, but it was the right thing to do. As he watched her disappear over the top of a small hill, King Timon was left entirely alone.

It was being alone that he feared most. Alone, he was forced to think of his dying son, worry about his missing son, worry about his wife and citizens who were fleeing for their lives, and realize that he was helpless to do anything about any of it. Now, as he watched the lingering dust cloud that came from the hooves of Sartura's horse, he had her to worry about too. King Timon sat in his chair, staring at the tent door where Prince Purstar lie dying. The Healers had told him his son could no longer feel his or anyone else's presence; only his essences remained holding onto whatever life there was.

Was it right to keep him alive so Master Raajanaar could cast the Inset spell on him? the King wondered. The decision would have been easier if his son were not the greatest swordsman in Carbynarah six years running. He remembered his son looking directly at him, as he removed his helmet at the championship games in Caprena, exposing for the first time, that it was the King's heir who had fought without any banner or crest on his weapons. He had won the people's tournament the week before the games, and it was there that he had qualified to compete in the championship games.

All during the tournament, everyone talked about the events surrounding this masked warrior that had defeated one great lord after another in battle. Never had a people's champion lasted more than the first day or two. The unknown warrior's reputation had reached a fever pitch before the final battle for the championship. As he defeated Lord Myningar in that battle, the crowds wanted greatly to chant his name, but there was no name to chant, so they stood and applauded, shouting for him to show himself.

King Timon remembered how deeply honored he was to be selected from among all the kings to present the victor's wreath. He could still remember the nervous energy pulsing through his body, as he approached this unknown champion. Presenting the victor's wreath to the greatest swordsman of the land was his honor, and he recalled thinking how proud the victor's father would be when the great warrior removed his helmet. He had said a quick prayer in hopes that this young man's father was somewhere in the crowd and could see this greatest honor.

Even now, as the King remembered the events of that day, tears welled up in his eyes, as he recalled the realization that it was his son who was the victor, and that he was that proud father. At first, he just stood there – he couldn't move for the surprise that had overwhelmed him. Then he remembered his heart filling with pride, as he hugged the son that he was so proud of. The crowd had erupted, as they realized the champion was none other than the King's oldest son.

Tears of memories from a happier time made wet spots on the dry dirt between the King's feet. Resting his forehead on his hand, he enjoyed reliving the moments of that day. The chant, started by Lord Myningar, swarmed through the crowded stadium. "Prince Purstar! Prince Purstar!" Eventually, the crowd just shouted, "Purstar! Purstar! Purstar!"

He could vividly remember the feeling of their hands touching, as he passed the victor's wreath to his son. It was a memory the King would never forget. However, of all the memories of that day, the most poignant one was that of him turning to look at his beloved wife. The Queen's expression told him that she had known all along. The unknown warrior was a mystery to all except the woman who called him son.

The tear-soaked moments reassured him that somehow his daughter would be safe, and it was his wife, family, and the citizens of his Kingdom who were in the most danger. Standing, the King asked the trumpeter to call for the officers of the camp.

One by one, the officers entered the tent. King Timon was standing, waiting for them. "Men, now is our time," he started. "We need to break camp immediately and travel to the plateau, Benflyn Dor. There we will wait for our families to arrive, and we will rebuild the defenses that were built during the Shadow Wars. We will be ready to defeat any enemy that dares to attack us!"

"We will not stop until we arrive. Now go!" the King ordered.

His voice was stronger than he felt. As his father used to say, it is the times of trial that show the difference between a king and a great king. Now was the time for him to step up. His people needed a Great King.

Yron followed the trail into the crevasse. Twenty feet inside the fracture was a white fir tree, which appeared to have been growing there for many years. The trunk of the tree was almost half as wide as the crevasse. Kneeling, Yron crawled under the tree branches and squeezed by the tree trunk. On the other side of the tree, he could see that the trail continued. It had been many years since anything or anyone had used this trail.

Yron walked several hundred yards before the trail made a sharp turn. As he made the turn, he could see a long flight of steps carved into the stone. Down the side of the stairs, ran a small trickle of water. This must be the water source of the pond, Yron thought.

Debris and fallen rock made climbing the stairway difficult. His ranger training made it even more difficult because each step had to be measured so not leave a sign that anyone had passed this way. At the top of the flight of stairs, was a small plateau that overlooked the prairie.

Yron calculated the plateau to be seven or eight hundred feet above the prairie floor. From this vantage point, it was possible for Yron to see for miles around. This must be a lookout point, Yron thought to himself. To his left, more stairs were cut into the stone wall. He could see that they led to another lookout about a hundred feet higher.

Yron scanned the horizon. There was no sign of Hawkriders to the south and no sign of fleeing citizens from Yemenor to the northwest. He was exhausted from the long climb up the staircase, so Yron found a rock to sit on near the edge of the plateau. From here, he could scan the horizon, as he rested before returning down the staircase.

The fatigue in his legs from the climb was beginning to set in, and as he studied the horizon to the west, he began to massage his thighs. Yron could see the crevasse twist its way down the cliff wall, but from this vantage point, there was no sign of the small clearing where Tristina and his Hawkrider captive rested.

A small pool of water stretched out from the rock on which he sat. He placed his feet in the pool and the cool water provided them great comfort. Reaching down, Yron took several handfuls of water and sipped it from his cupped hands. The warmth of the sun and his feet soaking in the pool were just what he needed to rejuvenate his tired body.

There was nothing on the horizon; perhaps, if he climbed to the higher plateau, he could see signs of the approaching Yemenor citizens. After reaching down to take one more handful of water, Yron began to ascend the last set of stairs. He was surprised at how much easier it was. His tired legs were more than willing to support this new climb.

Upon reaching the upper plateau, Yron could see that the lower plateau was naturally developed, but the upper plateau was entirely manmade. Next to the cliff wall, was a small fire pit. About two feet from the fire pit was a hole that had been drilled into the cliffside. Yron looked through the hole and saw that it extended forty to fifty feet, but he could only see a section of the mountains that bordered the southern part of the prairie. Perhaps, he thought, it was a way to see a fire signal to pass a message.

Long ago, a lean-to had been built against the cliff wall, but time and weather had caused its demise. Below the remains of the lean-to, was what appeared to be a bed cut into the rock wall. Yron figured it was a lookout post erected during the Shadow Wars with Lord Malkanard.

It was early afternoon, and it was time to continue their trek to find the people of Yemenor. As Yron climbed down the staircase, he found another small alcove cutting into the side of the stairwell. Stepping into the alcove, he looked over the edge where he could see a tunnel entrance cut into the cliff wall on the lower plateau. The further down the stairs he climbed, the more his curiosity overwhelmed him. He had to see what was in that tunnel.

Reaching the lower ledge, Yron headed immediately toward the tunnel. Upon his arrival to where he thought the tunnel was located, he was unable to find the tunnel entrance. Bounding up the stairs to the alcove, Yron carefully studied the area where he saw the tunnel, then returned to the lower plateau.

Still no tunnel. Yron was prepared to leave when he realized the space between the shaggy cedar and the entrance to the tunnel was significantly different when he looked from above. From the lower plateau, the cedar tree was touching the rock wall, while from above, it was several yards away from the wall.

As Yron attempted to push the cedar limbs back, so he could more clearly see the rock wall, he noticed the limbs passed into the wall. Sticking his hand where the tree limb had passed into the wall, he found an opening that was disguised to look like it was part of the wall.

Yron was glad he had his hand holding onto the edge of the disguised wall because when he stepped through the opening, there was no floor immediately in front of him. Holding onto the edge of the opening was the only thing that prevented Yron from making the same mistake he could see others had made.

Inside a small room-like area, he could see the tunnel. The tunnel was big enough to squat and walk through, but Yron realized it would be easier just to crawl. Entering the tunnel, Yron cast a Light spell against the wall. Nothing happened. So, he tried again. Still nothing. He tried to cast the Light spell on his hand. Again, nothing. Surrounding him was total darkness, except for the light that could be seen from the tunnel entrance.

Puzzled, Yron crawled back out of the tunnel. As he exited the cave, the Light spell he had cast on his hand glowed brightly, but as Yron reentered the tunnel, he noticed that the farther he crawled into the tunnel, the less light shone from his hand, until it vanished.

As he exited the tunnel the second time, to his left, he spotted an alcove carved into the wall. Inside were several torches. Perhaps he should try a torch. Grabbing a torch, Yron cast a Fire spell to light it. Once again, as Yron entered the tunnel entrance, the torch slowly began to lose its light until it was totally extinguished. In frustration, Yron tossed the torch out of the tunnel. He hadn't gone more than five feet when he could see that the torch, which was once extinguished, was relit.

Clearly, something inside the tunnel was absorbing the light. This puzzle fascinated him. After exhausting every spell he could think of that would either cause light or prevent darkness, the thought came to him, What if it is the magic that is not working inside the tunnel? Yron drew his knife and started to carve tiny wood splinters.

Striking the back of his knife with a rock eventually created a big enough spark to ignite the wood fibers. Within a couple of minutes, Yron had a small fire burning. He lit the torch and entered the cave again. The torchlight reflecting off the tunnel walls created a sparkling effect. This time the light didn't extinguish but rather continued to provide Yron with the brightness necessary to continue.

Every few feet he noticed that part of the tunnel floor was gone, leaving nothing but a large hole. After finding the second section of floor that had vanished, Yron dropped a rock down the hole in the tunnel floor. It took a few seconds before he heard it bounce off the bottom of the cavern below. There is no way for someone to travel this tunnel without light, Yron thought to himself.

Chapter 21

What just happened? Raaj was clutching his throat gasping for air from what felt like the air was being jerked from his lungs. Afraid to move, he cast a Silence spell, as he slid out of his bed onto his knees. Something wasn't right, he could feel it. Being unable to decipher what had just happened didn't change anything. He could feel something had disrupted the magic – something had changed. Looking across the room, he cast a Tap spell on Darmuth. The young Prince awoke quickly at the magical nudge and turned toward Raaj. The wizard put a finger to his lips, indicating to Darmuth to remain silent.

Raaj got up and placed his ear against the door. Nothing. Total silence. Next, he peered out the window. Looking across the farmland, Raaj couldn't see anything that would validate his feelings of concern. Raaj wasn't the only one who had felt something. Glancing across the room, he could see Abinya, his Familiar, was on alert as well.

"Raaj, what is it?" Darmuth whispered.

"Old magic," Raaj replied. "I don't know what it is, but I can feel it."

Darmuth nodded. He could feel something, a change in his soul as well. Now wasn't the time to question Raaj, but Darmuth's mind was filled with question after question.

Old magic! Raaj thought. But how? There hadn't been a sign of old magic in over forty generations of wizards. It wasn't a spell, but something had happened to reignite the essence of old magic. Raaj remained awake the rest of the night. Nothing happened out of the ordinary, but by morning, the feeling of old magic remained.

Could the Shakarine have discovered the secret to the old magic? More than ever, Raaj knew he needed to find the Shakarine army, and more specifically, what they were doing. After an hour, Raaj could see that neither he nor Darmuth would be going to sleep again. Turning to the Prince, Raaj instructed him, "Go ready the big, black Payleen, the one with the white front sock. You will be using him as we scout the Shakarine's progress. And Darmuth, don't tell anyone what happened last night."

Darmuth nodded and went to the stables to saddle up the horse Raaj had assigned to him. By the time he finished, Raaj was placing the stirrups over the front shoulders of his own Payleen. He handed one of the two packs he was carrying to Darmuth. "This will have to do until we can return," he said.

With that, the men mounted their horses and headed for the front gate. There was only one guard standing at the gate. "Leaving a little early, aren't we?" the guard commented.

Raaj reached over and pulled the hood up to cover Darmuth's head. "We don't need to be broadcasting to the world who you are, and we definitely don't need another assassination attempt. Your father would never forgive me. Safety is better than stupidity," Raaj stated curtly.

The two men spurred their Payleen on and galloped down the road heading west. Using his mind's eye in the same direction, Raaj could see Abinya. He continued to scan the horizon from his Familiar's viewpoint, as they rode on.

Darmuth's Payleen kept up with Raaj's all morning, but by early afternoon, Raaj could tell the big stallion was beginning to tire. The wizard found a nice place near a big oak a few hundred feet from the edge of the forest to rest. The tree provided some shade, and, at the same time, gave Abinya a high perch to study the horizon.

The incident from the previous night had occupied Raaj's mind all morning. Someone, or something, had caused a disturbance in the balance of magic. He remembered his old master's lessons. "There will come a time when you will wish you could reach into the vast history of magic," Raaj remembered his master saying, "but it will seem just outside of your grasp. Search the ancient libraries; it will be there, that you will discover something that is just beyond explanation. When it happens, open your heart and allow the impossible to be possible. Only then, will you know what is happening and how to contain it."

Havendar watched Tarrie finish eating. Thoughts of his friends flooded his mind and sorrow filled his heart as he worried about the people of Yemenor. They were the closest thing to family Havendar ever remembered. It was in the castle at Yemenor, that he received his first assignment as a ranger. The task was so simple, as he thought about it now; however, back then, being assigned to cross the northern border and then traverse the ice lands to the north seemed impossible. His mission had been to search for and find the Oracle Clan.

He wasn't told much about the Oracles other than their crest had something to do with a white tree, and they were a secret society. The last known contact with them was shortly after the Shadow Wars.

As their prophecies about Lord Malkanard began to come true, it activated a fear that they were foretelling and making the future come true through the magic they used to see into the future. Three years of searching had provided no clues to their existence. Havendar had studied the scrolls in the great libraries of the north but could find no mention of anything that dealt with the Oracles. In fact, very little of the history from the Shadow Wars discussed anything about prophecies.

The thing that always bothered Havendar about the historic writings of the north was how the northerners saw Lord Malkanard as a great warrior who almost united the entire world under his flag. There was never any mention of his atrocities. In fact, the concept that he almost destroyed the Wizard Clan seemed to be something the northerners were disappointed hadn't happened.

Admittedly, magic was frowned upon in the north. In fact, Havendar couldn't remember any instances of even simple magic being a part of carnivals or celebrations. Huh, he thought; That is something I never realized until now.

Across the room, Tarrie had finished her meal. Havendar watched her for a few minutes. The incident of her knocking him over while he leaned back in his chair caused Havendar to reflect upon the mystery of the barbarian Princess. He hadn't expected that move. Havendar admitted to himself there might be more to her than he realized. Chuckling again about how Tarrie had knocked him over, Havendar decided it was time to train his young companion.

He pushed himself away from the table, stood up, and walked toward her. "You need to learn some defensive moves to protect yourself," Havendar said. "Perhaps you will let me show you a few moves."

Tarrie didn't say anything. She stared at the floor for a few seconds, then looked up, and replied, "If you think you can teach me, I am willing to learn."

Initially, Havendar taught her how to slide to the side to avoid an attack and how to block a charge. Things went very slowly, and Havendar started to get frustrated. It wasn't because Tarrie wasn't trying to do what he said, but rather that, she didn't have the coordination or nimbleness to do what he was trying to teach her.

Even worse, the slower Havendar moved, the more uncoordinated it appeared Tarrie became. Havendar was at a loss as to what to do to train her. It was apparent that her training as a Princess and Ambassador didn't include any training as a warrior. By the time they finished, the last drop of light had fallen from the sky. Sighing, Havendar prepared for bed and thought through different methods to train her. As he lay down, once again, Tarrie climbed into the bed next to him.

He didn't like the idea of them sharing the same bed, but he had to admit she did help keep him warm at night. "Havendar, thank you for trying to teach me," Tarrie whispered.

"Perhaps we can try again in the morning," Havendar responded as he closed his eyes and welcomed sleep.

After crawling through the tunnel for about thirty minutes, Yron came to a large cavern. Burnt out torches adorned the walls of the room, and below each torch, were baskets holding torches waiting to be used. Taking a torch from the nearest basket, Yron lit it and placed it in an empty torch holder to his left. Once the torch was lit, it appeared that light had begun to emerge from the center of the cavern.

The cavern must be enormous, Yron thought. As he lit each torch, the light in the center of the cavern became brighter, and more of the cavern was visible. Eventually, he could see that in the center of the cavern was a giant pool of water surrounding a rock outcropping. A beautiful white tree had managed to emerge from the rocks years prior, and it had grown up and out, its roots creeping, over time, into the pond below, it limbs spreading out over the water as though it attempted to cover the entire pond.

To Yron, it appeared the tree was somehow reflecting the torchlight, and as each successive torch was lit, the light from the tree became stronger. Yron continued to light the torches around the cavern walls. As he did so, additional features of the cavern began to appear. A large table, with benches that could seat over twenty people, sat along one side. In another section, were sleeping accommodations, a small armory with weapons, a forge, and piles of arrow shafts.

As Yron turned his attention to the table nearest him, he noticed a carving in the center of the table. It portrayed a blue water pond with a white tree that shone brightly. Above the tree, was a full moon with an array of stars dotting the sky.

It looked almost like the tree and pond Yron could see in the center of the cavern; however, the tree in the crest was tall with a large trunk, while the tree in the cavern was significantly smaller and the trunk split into several branches a few feet off the ground. The moon's reflection was evident in the pool, but the star that reflected from the water was not in the same position as the stars on the crest that was in the sky.

The crest fascinated Yron. He couldn't remember ever seeing a design like this before. Yron resisted the temptation to wipe the dust from the table, so he could more clearly see the crest. His footsteps that imprinted the dust on the floor were already more evidence than he wanted, showing that someone had been there.

Fascinated by the room from another time, Yron continued exploring around the pool to look at the ancient weapons. The arrow shafts were stacked in piles, with each stack in various stages of completion. In the first pile, the bark of the branch hadn't been removed. In other stacks, the bark had been removed, revealing a white wood. In another, the tail of the arrow shaft had been prepared for the feather. In yet another stack, the notch for the arrowhead had been cut into the tip of the shaft, and in the final heap, there were probably forty or fifty completed arrows.

The armory was filled with swords, daggers, knifes, shields, and armor. Each weapon, shield, and armor carried the same crest as was in the center of the table. Coins were stacked on some of the shelves, but the dust was so thick that Yron couldn't see if they were embossed with an emblem.

Yron finally approached the bedding area where he saw a pile of clothing stacked on one of the beds. He lit the torch in the center of this section of the cavern and was startled to see that what he thought was a pile of clothes was the body of a fallen soldier. From the soldier's chest, stuck a black arrow shaft. It was clear the body had been there for many years. Yron suspected the soldier was the last living person to be in the room before he had entered today.

Yron studied the dead soldier. He was different from anyone Yron had ever seen. Even though it had been many years since his death, the soldier's body was intact – there was no decay. The jaw was more angular than Yron was used to seeing, and the skin tone had a light blue hue to it. Unwilling to touch anything, Yron worked to understand everything he could see about the fallen soldier.

Dust covered the entire body except for the lower face. As Yron leaned over to look at the arrow wound, it appeared that the body took a short breath. Startled, Yron stepped back, his hand on his weapon. He waited on edge, and after a few seconds, when he was sure the soldier wasn't really breathing, Yron relaxed his grip on his knife. It must have been his imagination. Smiling at himself for his foolishness, Yron continued scouting the cavern.

None of the other beds had been used for many years. Food that had been sitting on plates throughout the sleeping area had rotted and dried up years ago. Interestingly, all the food trays indicated there must have been many people staying here just before the soldier's demise.

Upon further inspection, Yron noticed there was no dust below the soldier's nose. Yron suddenly thought, Maybe I didn't imagine the breath after all. Perhaps the soldier is in some sort of hibernation spell to preserve his life until someone could return to heal him. But what if no one ever returned? How long could the soldier remain in hibernation?

Yron had never heard of that type of spell, but then again, there was a lot of forbidden magic Yron had never heard about. Either those that knew anything about it never talked about it, or the knowledge of it had been forgotten. More curious than ever, Yron returned to the body of the soldier. Touching the hand, Yron realized the body had warmth. The fingernails were a few feet long, and the hair had formed a pillow around the back of the head. Yron wondered why there was no facial hair, as he committed every detail of the soldier to memory.

Sure enough, after a few minutes, Yron saw the body take another breath. He attempted to cast another Light spell, so he could more easily see but with no success. Yron positioned the torch, so it was wedged between two boards of a neighboring bunk bed, effectively freeing up his hands for what he was about to do.

Yron had seen Raaj dress battle wounds on several occasions, so he knew he needed to remove the arrow and then cast a Healing spell to help mend the wound. Placing one hand on the soldier's shoulder to steady him, Yron grabbed the black arrow shaft. As he pulled the shaft to remove the arrow, it dislocated from the arrowhead, leaving the arrowhead in the wound.

Yron sighed. This meant he would need to dig the arrowhead out of the wound before he could mend it. Sliding the soldier from the bed to the floor, Yron removed the helmet, along with the weapons and remaining armor, from the soldier. Lifting the upper body into a sitting position, Yron pulled the shirt over the head of the soldier to allow for easier access to the wound.

As he lifted the shirt from the body of the soldier, the body vanished into a pile of dust! Yron stood there, holding the shirt in his hands, he had no idea what to do. There was nothing remaining of the body. It had just evaporated. On the floor, next to where the hand had been were several rings. A black arrowhead lay on the floor at his feet, and the remaining items that Yron hadn't already removed were laying where they had fallen.

The camp was quiet when Lord Myningar awoke. The gentle breeze rustling through the trees was soothing. He didn't want to get up; all the morning would bring was war reports and battle planning. He could feel the stiffness in his back, as he got up off the ground and rolled up his bedroll. He wasn't getting younger and the previous day's fighting had made him stiff and sore.

Myningar arrived at the officer's tent a few minutes later. Standing guard was his valued assistant. I should nominate him for knighthood when things settle, he thought. "Any reports?" Myningar asked. He knew the answer before he had asked the question. The young assistant, Nadesmandar, who he affectionately called Nades, would have awakened him if anything important had happened.

"No, sir," Nades responded.

"Nothing from the scouts?" Myningar questioned further.

"No, sir," he replied again. "And no news of Lord Fanver either."

Myningar nodded that he understood the report.

Across the battlefield, the army fetchers were collecting battle attire, and the dead bodies were being moved so they could be buried.

"Please call Lord Gunlyn," Myningar requested. "He will need to send out additional scouts."

With the order, Nades departed the tent. Looking at the area map, Myningar couldn't determine what the Warteen were doing. There was no logic in a full-frontal attack unless they had planned a counter attack, especially with the success they had with their flanking move. Myningar knew that neither he nor King Holben had sufficient troops to sustain more attacks like yesterday.

Near the edge of the map where Myningar had placed his hand, was Yemenor. On the map, it seemed such a short distance away, but he knew it would take him almost two weeks of hard riding to get there. The memories of his small farm outside the castle gates gave him a moment of peace.

The reprieve was short-lived as Lord Gunlyn soon entered the command tent. "I sent scouts out earlier this morning. But Sir," Lord Gunlyn spoke, "we have not found Lord Canter. We haven't found anything but a few dead from his army."

Myningar was speechless. What had happened to them? Did they pursue the Warteen army? His head was filled with scenario after scenario of what could have happened to his men.

"Were your scouts on foot or horseback?" Lord Myningar asked.

"Sir, they left on foot," replied Gunlyn.

"We need to send out additional scouts, on horseback this time. We are blind here," Myningar said, stating the obvious. "Send three scouts with each team. Make sure the second scout in each team rides at least three hundred yards behind the lead scout. The third scout should follow the other two."

Then, pointing to the map, he continued. "We need scouts here and here," he said, pointing to two places thirty miles east of King Holben's castle. "And here, here, and here," he said, pointing to three places, all south of where they were, in the direction from which the Warteen had attacked. As Myningar looked at the map, he pointed to a place west of their camp, along the path that Myningar had brought his army when they had come to rescue King Holben. "Lord help us if they find anything there," he said under his breath.

Lord Gunlyn nodded. "It will be done," he said as he turned to leave the command tent.

"Gunlyn," Myningar called out, "when the scouts are gone, I will need to talk to you."

Gunlyn nodded and left the tent. Myningar could hear the Lord barking orders as he walked away from the tent. He had brought his officer corps with him in the event he needed them. Within minutes, Lord Myningar could see groups of scouts heading out of the camp in all directions.

It only took Gunlyn a few minutes to return. Myningar placed his arm around his old friend. "I know you were once an apprentice ranger," he said. "We need the skills you learned. We need to find out what happened to Lord Canter. He is your blood brother, and I need you to handle this personally."

Lord Gunlyn nodded and said as he left, "I will do my best, Your Lordship." Myningar knew what he had asked, and he could only imagine what it would be like to search for your brother. But, he also knew if he didn't send Lord Gunlyn, the man would constantly be thinking of his brother, unable to truly focus on any other task. If anyone could find out what had happened to Lord Canter, Gunlyn would do so.

Lord Gunlyn was grateful for Lord Myningar charging him to search for his brother. He was there when his brother, Lord Canter, was ordered to circle behind the Warteen encampment dressed as Shakarine soldiers then attack the Warteen rearguard once he received the signal from Lord Myningar.

From his vantage point on the ridge standing alongside Lord Myningar, he watched as his brother's troops charged onto the battlefield. When the signal was given for his brother to attack, he watched as the troops his brother commanded took control of the Warteen's rear command. While the battle between the Yemenite troops and the Warteen was raging in front of him, he felt relief after seeing that his brother had accomplished his objective by capturing the Warteen camp with their commanders.

But when the Warteen archers attacked the flank of the Yemenite forces on top of the ridge as Lord Fanver's trumpeter began to sound the alarm, he lost track of what his brother was doing. By the time Lord Myningar had rallied the troops and turned back, defeating the attacking Warteen, his brother was no longer visible on the battlefield.

It was late when Lord Myningar called the War Council, but Lord Gunlyn was not surprised that his brother had not returned. After all, he had prisoners that he was to care for and not just any prisoners, he had captured the military commanders of the Warteen army.

The Warteen were fierce warriors. Lord Gunlyn had heard of their reputation, but as in all campfire gossip, the stories of women warriors that could stand toe to toe with the best men of any army just seemed like another of one of those long, exaggerated stories. Now Lord Gunlyn knew for himself – the stories were true.

When he had requested to be released as a ranger's apprentice, Lord Gunlyn never expected he would need to track anything again, let alone his brother. But there he was, standing in the middle of a war-torn camp. Around him, several Yemenite soldiers lay dead still dressed in Shakarine army uniforms; alongside them, several women were dressed in their warrior uniforms.

Except for colors and adjustments in the armor made to accommodate the women wearing them, the only real differences between the different armies' uniforms was that the Warteen headgear was more ornate. From the battlefield, Lord Gunlyn could see that the Warteen didn't use shields. In one hand they carried a long sword, and the other hand supported a shorter blade, more like a fighting knife.

He had seen combatants using the same configuration in the championship games in Caprena. The combination of sword and knife created a more aggressive combatant, but the shield could also be used as a weapon while still providing the fighter with a way to take a more defensive posture. While there were always a few combatants that used the more aggressive fighting style, he had never seen anyone using the sword/knife combination ever make it to the semifinals.

It was clear from the way the dead were scattered across the battlefield; the Yemenites had been victorious. The Yemenite dead were positioned on their backs, arms folded with their weapons lying beside them. But, for the life of him, Lord Gunlyn couldn't figure out why all the Warteen tents had been completely taken down. There weren't any tent remnants in sight, nor could he see any camp animals roaming around.

Every indication led Lord Gunlyn to believe that his brother, Lord Canter, had defeated the Warteen then disappeared. There were no tracks leading from the battlefield. The grass was trampled down from the Warteen army as they passed over this location heading to the front lines of King Holben's castle, but there was no indication that someone had back-tracked over the area and headed in the opposite direction because the grass was not scuffed the other direction.

As he studied the trampled down grass, it all lay down in one direction, just as he knew it would. Try as he might, no matter what direction he walked over the path that the Warteen army had taken, each time he changed direction and walked for a few feet, the grass would scuff, and he could see the direction he had come from.

Lord Gunlyn knew his ranger training was rusty, but there was no way he could believe that one hundred and fifty men carrying the Warteen tents and escorting prisoners could walk against the path trod down by the Warteen army without leaving any sign.

As he looked around the battlefield, Lord Gunlyn knew what he needed to do; report to Lord Myningar, gather some supplies, and return to the battlefield to continue the search for his brother. Dusk was quickly approaching. If he wanted to get back before it was too dark, he needed to leave now.
Chapter 22

The piercing cry of his eagle as it rested in the tree limbs above made Raaj smile. His old friend was on constant alert. The Mind's Eye spell allowed him to see two deer grazing out in the middle of the prairie. Raaj watched, as they walked along the small stream that meandered by.

Raaj turned to Darmuth and was prepared to begin discussing their next steps when Abinya called again. Raaj reconnected with his Familiar and could see that Abinya was trying to warn him. Standing on two legs, one of the deer moved and turned its head toward the tree. As it did so, Raaj could see they were not deer, but rather, men masquerading as animals.

Concerned, Raaj instructed his Familiar to get a closer look. As the eagle sprung from the tree, Raaj could see that it was circling over the prairie. Every so often, he could hear its piercing cry, indicating it was on the hunt. Slowly, Abinya circled over the two men. From this vantage point, there was no way, initially, to see them as anything more than a couple of deer wandering alongside the stream.

Raaj instructed his Familiar to search to the west, while he turned back toward the castle. He knew the further his Familiar flew, the less he would be able to see, but he hoped he could get a bearing on the Shakarine army before Abinya was out of range.

"Darmuth, we need to head back to the castle," Raaj whispered.

"Why, what do you see?" Darmuth questioned with concern.

Raising his finger to his mouth, Raaj motioned for Darmuth to mount the Payleen. Because the stream ran through the low part of the prairie, Raaj was certain that if they rode along the edge of the woods, the men dressed in the deer hides wouldn't be able to see them. The only possibility of seeing them was if they stood up and looked around again.

They hadn't ridden more than a mile when Raaj lost contact with Abinya. He knew once she realized they were out of contact, she would fly back in search of him. There was no need to ride the horses hard because they would arrive at the castle long before the two men could get within ten miles of it.

Raaj and Darmuth arrived at the castle just before dusk. The gate was closed. It took a few minutes of pounding on the door before one of the guards looked over the castle wall to tell them the gate wouldn't open until the morning.

"You get me Lord Kimberlee now!" Raaj demanded.

"I am sorry. Those are Lord Kimberlee's orders," the guard responded.

Raaj could tell Darmuth was preparing to get involved in the discussion; Raaj reached out, placing his hand on Darmuth's arm to restrain him.

"Tell him that Master Raajanaar and his maiggii are waiting at the gate," Raaj ordered.

The guard began to protest but seemed to decide it wasn't worth the effort to argue and ducked behind the castle wall instead. A few minutes later, another guard peered down from the wall. "You will need to wait until morning," the second guard attempted to explain.

Darmuth could hear Raaj begin his chant. He wasn't sure what Raaj was doing, but he was certain it would work. Raaj finished his chanting and spoke again. "Young man, it might be a good idea for you to go and fetch Lord Kimberlee, and you tell him that Master Raajanaar is waiting to enter the castle."

"I will be right back," the young guard responded, suddenly very agreeable.

It took several minutes, but Lord Kimberlee finally looked over the castle wall. Raaj had pulled his hood back so the Captain of the Guard would be able to see who he was.

"Open the gate!" Kimberlee ordered. By the time the gate opened, Lord Kimberlee was waiting at the entrance for Raaj and Darmuth.

"We need to talk," Raaj explained to Kimberlee.

Lord Kimberlee guided them to a small guard's shed alongside the gate. Once they entered the room, Raaj explained to Lord Kimberlee that Shakarine spies dressed as deer were headed toward the castle. After Raaj explained the entire situation, Lord Kimberlee asked Raaj and Darmuth to wait there.

Raaj could hear Kimberlee shouting orders. A few moments later, Kimberlee returned to the room.

"How far away do you think they are?" he asked. Raaj guessed the spies were somewhere between ten and fifteen miles back. He guessed they would rest for the night but couldn't guarantee the assumption.

"We cannot chance them not resting," Kimberlee emphasized. "We will send scouts out to intercept them immediately."

"If you allow me to go with the scouting party, I can use a Night Vision spell on my Familiar, and she will be able to aid us in the search for Shakarine scouts."

"Done," Kimberlee stated.

"Darmuth, you will stay here with Lord Kimberlee," Raaj ordered.

Darmuth wanted to protest but knew better than to argue with the old wizard.

"My men will be ready within ten minutes. Why don't the two of you get something to eat?" Kimberlee suggested.

On the far side of the cavern, one of the torches flickered and burned out. It indicated to Yron that he had been in the cavern longer than he had realized or intended. Next to the bed the soldier had lain on, was a leather pack. Yron gathered the dead soldier's belongings and stuffed them into the bag before heading for the cavern entrance.

The realization that he had been in the cavern for longer than intended came at a bad time. He was torn between his desire to explore the cavern and his duty to deliver the King's message. What if the Hawkrider had escaped? As Yron cleared the tunnel, the sun was beginning to set. He must have been in the cavern for four or five hours.

Yron ran down the stairway leading from the cavern. He stopped at the clearing's edge to check on the situation. On the far side of the clearing, Tristina was standing next to the Hawkrider, who was scratching Tristina's nose and ears. This turn of events surprised Yron; he had never seen Tristina allow anyone other than him to show her any affection. As he stepped out into the clearing, Tristina looked up and raced to greet him. "Traitor," he mumbled.

"It is time we get moving," Yron said.

Looking up, the young Hawkrider started to gather Yron's pack as well as the water flask that lay next to it.

"I will get that," Yron said, feeling a little annoyed. Who does she think she is? he thought. What business does she have touching my stuff, and what gives her the impression that it is alright for her to spend time with Tristina?

Grabbing the pack and flask, Yron entered the undergrowth that led to the prairie, still grumbling to himself. Tristina followed quickly after, and Brelyah followed behind. At the edge of the prairie, Yron took a moment to scout for movement. His greatest concern was that other Hawkriders had been following them before entering the forest edge. Luckily, he saw no indication of any movement in the air.

After scanning the prairie Yron and deciding that all was well, Yron parted the branches so Tristina and his captive could enter the prairie. Placing the stirrups on Tristina's back, Yron helped the Hawkrider mount the Payleen. Casting a Marker spell at the forest edge so he would be able to return to the cavern, Yron took a mental note of the surrounding cliffs. Even though he knew of the plateau, he couldn't see any trace of its existence from the prairie floor.

Once Yron was seated on the Payleen, they rode northwest along the forest edge. Tristina was well rested which was evidence by the length of her strides. Yron always loved the feeling of the wind against his face, as Tristina raced through the fields back home. He closed his eyes; it was nice to remember a simpler time.

Darkness enveloped the prairie. Yron was concerned about letting anyone see them ride across the prairie so decided against casting a Moonbeam spell. With no idea if Hawkriders flew at night, the last thing he wanted was to be spotted.

Normally, Yron would have camped until the moons had risen high enough to provide light to travel by, but time was of the essence. Tonight, he would lead his Payleen on foot until there was enough light to ride. After a few minutes, Brelyah dismounted and started to walk alongside him.

"I am tired of sitting," she said.

From the side, Yron could see her long hair gently blowing in the breeze. She does have a nice profile, he thought. A side-glance was all Yron could afford to take. The silence as they walked was very uncomfortable; he couldn't think of a thing to say. After all, what can you say to someone you stabbed with a knife, tied up, kidnapped, and took away from the life they knew? If being away from her hawk was anything like the separation between him and Ky, he could only imagine the loss she must be feeling.

Yron began to doubt his decision of taking her captive and bringing her with him. He was confident that if he had left her at the stream's edge, fellow Hawkriders would have spotted her, and she would be someone else's problem now.

"Are you just going to ignore me forever?" Brelyah asked. "Perhaps, if we had met under different circumstances, you would talk to me," she continued.

Looking at her, Yron still couldn't think of a single thing to say. "Perhaps," was the best he could muster.

"Okay, you remember that my name is Brelyah," she stated, lifting her forearm for a moment before dropping it awkwardly as Yron stared, clueless at the offered handshake, "and you are Yron."

"Yron," he nodded.

"Good. Now that we have established the we remember each other's names, perhaps you can tell me where you are going and why you are in such a hurry."

"No," Yron responded.

"No, we didn't remember each other's names, or no, you won't tell me where we are going?" she asked with a laugh.

Yron just sighed. "No, I can't tell you where we are going."

Giggling, she said, "I know, silly."

"Then why did you ask?" Yron questioned.

"I asked because I want you to talk to me, and all you have done for the last day and a half is ignore me." Continuing, she asked, "Is there a rule that says wizards are not allowed talk to women?"

"Why would you say that? Of course, we can. I just don't have anything to say," Yron responded awkwardly.

Brelyah only laughed harder. Yron shook his head and started walking faster. This didn't discourage Brelyah from running to catch up, striking up the conversation again.

"So, Mr. Magic Man, show me some magic," she taunted.

Yron smiled at last and nodded, "As you wish." He started to chant. After a few seconds, he looked directly into Brelyah's eyes and slowly said, "Silence."

Now it was Yron's turn to laugh, as Brelyah realized he had cast a spell on her, so she could no longer talk. In frustration, she stormed ahead.

Dang it, she thought, Why on earth did I do that? Even though what he had done made her laugh to the core, she was never going to let him know he had gotten the best of her.

Havendar awoke as Tarrie climbed out of bed. She must be using the pot to go to the bathroom, he thought. Not wanting to embarrass her, he lay still, keeping his eyes closed to give her privacy. After several minutes, when she hadn't returned to bed, Havendar slowly opened his eyes to see what she was doing. Looking to the far side of the room, Havendar could see Tarrie doing some sort of dance.

At first, Havendar dismissed the movements as an elaborate dance he had seen hundreds of times by performers in the King's dining halls across the land. Tarrie's dance, however, was not erotic like many he had seen. Admittedly, it was pleasing to watch; the dance was deliberate, and each move had a definitive beginning and end. He could see the dance was more like an exercise. The sun's rays beginning to enter the room were reflecting off Tarrie's sweat and brightening her auburn hair.

Havendar hadn't recognized it before now, but Tarrie had well-toned muscles. The ease of her movements, the balance, the coordination, and the strength of each move was a contradiction to the woman who was tripping over herself to block a simple frontal attack the night before. Havendar lay still and silent, as he watched Tarrie finish her dance. Once she finished, Tarrie took one of the sheets laying along the side of the bed and used it to dry herself off. She finished and climbed back into bed.

Havendar could hear her breathing patterns. If he hadn't known better, he would have believed her to be asleep. It will be best to wait a few minutes before I get up, Havendar decided, not necessarily wanting Tarrie to know he had been watching her.

Outside of their cell, Havendar could hear the township waking and preparing for the morning. He got out of bed just before the guards brought breakfast. The guard banged on the door. "Bowls!" he ordered. Havendar reached for his bowl, and the guard slopped a ladle full of mush into it. It was apparent to Havendar that Tarrie wouldn't be able to get her bowl to the door in time. Grabbing her bowl, he passed it through the window, and the guard poured food into it as well.

Placing her food on the table, Havendar sat down and started eating his breakfast. Covering herself, Tarrie climbed out of bed and got dressed, then sat down across the table from Havendar and started to eat.

"Thank you for getting my food," Tarrie whispered.

Havendar nodded. It was nice, he thought, that she thanked me. After finishing his food, he leaned back on two legs of his chair and watched her. She had taken her long hair and flipped it over her shoulder, so it didn't fall into the food as she ate.

"What are you looking at, Ranger?" Tarrie asked.

Havendar hadn't realized how intensely he was watching her until the inquiry. Embarrassed, he leaned forward, dropping the chair onto all four legs. "I was not .. I mean, I was, but I was just watching – never mind." Frustrated, Havendar got up and walked to the window. He stood there for a while, watching life outside the cell.

Across the valley, he could see the mountain range that separated the northern Shakarine lands from his homeland. He needed to find a way to escape. Havendar started to pace, attempting to come up with a plan – any plan –that could be viable. Suddenly, scuffing his foot on the dirt floor, he realized that digging a tunnel under the wall might be a valid option. The back of the cell where they were housed was set against the outer wall of the township. Perhaps he could dig a tunnel under the wall and fence.

Havendar started with excitement as the plan began to take shape in his mind. First, he would need to rearrange the room. Moving their bed next to the back wall would hide his tunneling efforts, but he knew he would need to leave it there for several days before starting to dig to prevent suspicion.

In the meantime, he would try to understand the cell's surroundings. How far would he have to tunnel? Where would he put the dirt? As Havendar thought through the implications, he leaned a piece of straw against the bed. Its position that evening would allow him to determine if their room was searched during the day.

It would be a good idea to place a few other traps as well, he thought. He needed to know as much as he could about what happened in their cell when they were away. Only when the true picture emerged could his plan begin. Finally, Havendar sat back and smiled. His plan would work. It had to.

King Timon watched Lord Capnar and his army begin their forced march to intercept his people fleeing the castle at Yemenor. It was time to break camp and head for Benflyn Dor. He calculated it would take one and a half days to get there. If they left now and marched through the night, they could be there tomorrow.

The remaining members of his War Council were preparing to break camp's departure for the great plateau. With most of the armies gone, there were very few people left, just enough to herd the livestock, drive the wagons, and scout ahead. King Timon knew they would move slower while traveling through the night, but time was of the essence.

He was a young boy when his father had first taken him to Benflyn Dor. There, his father had spent several days explaining the way the defenses had been prepared as protection from Lord Malkanard during the Shadow Wars. It was to Benflyn Dor that people of Carbynarah had fled to for safety during the final Shadow Wars battle. It was there that Lord Malkanard suffered his first and final defeat. From Benflyn Dor, the forces that rallied against Lord Malkanard created a base of operations leading to his ultimate downfall.

King Timon looked over the camp. He could see they were ready to depart. Today, he would ride in the wagon with his son. He knew there was nothing he could do to help or comfort the Prince; riding in the wagon was more for his peace of mind. A light wind rattled against the canvas, and the wagon lurched forward as King Timon sat down. Reaching out, he placed his hand on his son's hand. The Prince's face was so peaceful looking. King Timon was glad his wife would be able to see their son before Raaj cast the Inset spell.

The gentle rocking of the wagon, as it rolled across the prairie, slowly eased the King's stress as he closed his eyes, remembering kinder days. The dust from the trail eventually made the King very thirsty. Climbing out of the wagon, he grabbed a flagon of water and lifted it to his mouth to take a deep drink. Alongside the wagon, attached by its reins, was the King's horse. Undoing the reins, he climbed on his mount and started to ride toward the front. Looming in front of the column, in the distance, Benflyn Dor began to emerge on the horizon.

As the King rode to the front of the column, he issued orders for his War Council to join him. One by one, the remaining members rode to catch up with the King. He had decided to send another advance team to Benflyn Dor. There they could better assess what would need to be done, once the King and the rest of the camp arrived.

Agreeing, Lords Bacnay, Og, and Tolback gathered one hundred and fifty men and departed for Benflyn Dor. "It will be a hard march, but you can travel faster than we can with these wagons," the King explained. "I want you to make sure you carry enough hand tools so that you can get started preparing for our arrival," the King said, calculating that the advance team would arrive at the plateau just before dusk. You will be joining Lord Burtel, who will arrive before you. When I arrive, I would like to get a report."

It was time for supper, so the lead wagons – which consisted of the kitchen staff –prepared bread, meat, and drink for the caravan. Once the food was prepared, they stopped and made sure everyone was fed as they passed by. They would then fall in at the rear of the wagon train.

King Timon worked with the kitchen staff to feed the people as they passed. It took about an hour to feed everyone. Once the kitchen wagons fell in at the rear of the wagon train, it only took a few moments for King Timon to realize why the kitchen wagons always rode at the front of the camp. Dust was everywhere. In a matter of minutes, the barrels of water had become completely contaminated with dirt.

He needed to stop the caravan to allow the kitchen wagons to get back to the front of the wagon train. By the time the entire column had been reorganized, they had lost an over an hour of time. While the wagons were stopped and waiting for the kitchen wagons to move to the front of the column, King Timon had every wagon driver hang a lantern from the back of their wagon, ready to be lit when the sun went down. King Timon didn't want wagons running into each other or falling off course, as they traveled through the night.

The traveling was slow, but King Timon kept the entire camp moving toward Benflyn Dor. By morning, he could tell they were only a few hours away. They had made good time through the night.

# Chapter 23

Lord Wathen had followed orders; he traveled a half-day's ride from Yemenor and set up camp to receive the inflowing citizens leaving the city. He had chosen an area near a small stream that flowed across the prairie. His men were stationed along the road to guide the Yemenite citizens to their assigned camping area, while they waited for the remaining people fleeing from the castle.

Upstream, he had dams built to pool the water so that people could gather their drinking water. Below the pools, were places for bathing. Finally, at the furthest downstream location, were places for the animals to drink.

Several teams of men were cutting down trees and splitting them in half to build bridges to cross the streams that cut across the prairie. The bridge teams were divided into two groups: those who were to construct the bridges and those who would take them down. He didn't want to give the enemy any help, as they chased after them.

The team that built the bridges were instructed to gather materials to build dams, so the people could gather water, as they traveled toward Benflyn Dor. When each wagon, handcart, and citizen on foot came into the camp, they were assigned a specific place to camp. Wagons were re-arranged, those that carried food were placed at the front of the group. The animals would travel at the rear. Women with children were assigned to ride in the front-most wagons, while the men were placed at the back of the column to defend and herd the animals.

Wagons carrying personal items were unloaded – there would be no need for furniture where they were going. A few of the citizens who refused to unload their personal items and furniture chose to return to their homes with their belongings. However, Lord Wathen wouldn't allow them to return to Yemenor until all the people from Yemenor had gathered and were prepared to leave.

The officers were forbidden to give anyone details as to where they were heading. He didn't want the Shakarine to have any advantage in their efforts to catch up to and attack the citizens of Yemenor. The trail they would leave as they crossed the prairie would give the Shakarine enough to follow.

Citizens from Yemenor were arriving hourly. A kitchen had been set up so the weary travelers would have something to eat upon arrival. Men who arrived at the camp were assigned to work in the forests gathering timbers necessary to build bridges as they trekked across the prairie.

Havendar appreciated the time he had in the arena; the exercise felt good. Plus, it was a great relief that he hadn't lost his weapons. He had never known a ranger to have lost his weapons and for good reason. Upon entrance to the guild, rangers' forearms were tattooed with markings that matched those on their weapons.

Rangers carried sensitive messages between kingdoms, escorted royalty, and performed other top-secret missions; it was essential to have a way to tell if a ranger was who they claimed to be. The markings provided the proof for those individuals who knew about ranger credentials and how to check them.

Upon his capture, one of Havendar's biggest fears had been that those who knew the secret would use his stolen weapons to infiltrate and gather sensitive information about Yemenor. Thankfully, his concerns were invalid; he had gotten his weapons back. It would be important for Havendar to find out where his weapons were being kept while he was not using them in the arena. Escaping without his weapons would not be an option.

Havendar and Tarrie were separated upon arrival at the arena. For most of the day, Havendar worked alone, learning how to subdue someone without causing major wounds. From what he could see, Tarrie was placed in one-on-one combat training, and from his vantage point, she didn't do very well, even though several times she got lucky and was able to get her sword out to block an incoming attack. The small cuts on her arms and legs told the story of those times when she was not so fortunate.

Toward the end of the day, Havendar and Tarrie faced two other arena fighters. Havendar immediately disabled the first one. The second one got past him but Tarrie defended herself until Havendar was able to intervene. Overall, Havendar was pleased with their work, although he wasn't sure how they would fare in the arena.

At the completion of the match, Havendar could hear someone clapping above, "They are ready! They are ready! Schedule them for the next arena fights!" The order came from one of the men sitting in the stands. "You and I will discuss whom they will be scheduled against tomorrow," the man continued. "Now, have Gessim work on what they will wear."

"Yes, sir," the trainer responded.

The coach dismissed the guards Havendar and Tarrie had been training with before turning to the pair. "You will need to come with me," the coach told them. Havendar looked at Tarrie and then followed the coach. What changed? he wondered. The coach had almost requested them to follow, rather than ordering them. As Havendar left the arena, the guards took his weapons and placed them on a leather sheet, wrapping them up and setting them inside one of the trunks that sat on the wagon.

Today was different. The coach went with them, as they left the arena, and the guards didn't place shackles on their wrists, but instead, followed behind them. They were placed in a wagon to be transported. The city was larger than Havendar had expected, and it took several minutes before they arrived at Gessim's place.

Upon entering what appeared to be an apparel shop, the coach introduced Havendar and Tarrie as the city's newest gladiators. Gessim walked around the two new gladiators then started to issue commands. Before long, there were people measuring both Havendar and Tarrie. Gessim's staff had them trying on everything from undershirts, for beneath their chainmail, to helmets and metal covered boots.

The sun was just beginning to set as they left the shop and were taken back to their cell. When the wagon entered the gate to the complex where their quarters were located, Havendar's hopes of digging a tunnel to escape were dashed. The cell they were being kept in was not backed up against the exterior wall, but rather, adjoined the exterior wall of the complex where the prisoners were kept. This city was maybe three or four times wider than Yemenor, and the prison complex was located near the center of the city.

When they arrived, dinner was sitting on the table. Tonight, they were given beefsteak, potatoes, and some brownish gray root. In each cup was a red berry drink. Yes, today was definitely different, Havendar reflected.

After they finished eating, Havendar thought it might be a good idea if they practice Tarrie's defensive moves. Tarrie nodded. Moving the table to the edge of the room, Havendar asked her if she was ready. He started to circle to her left, feigning an attack and then drawing back. Each time he initiated an attack, Tarrie failed to see it in time to counter.

Havendar was getting frustrated. "Don't you get this?" he questioned her. "In the arena, it will not be a game, and you can get hurt. I can't defend you all the time."

Tarrie stood listening. He could tell she was upset by what he had said. He could see the anger in her eyes. Good, he thought, maybe now she will try. With that, Havendar changed directions and attacked again. As he moved in, Tarrie caught him by the arm, turning him to the side. Bringing her left arm over his shoulder, she grabbed him by the throat and squeezed. Within seconds, Havendar was on his knees, fearful that she would crush his throat.

She smiled as she released Havendar. "So, Master Trainer, how did I do?" she asked mockingly.

Sartura didn't want to look back as she rode from her father's camp. It wasn't until she had cleared the small rise that she finally relaxed. She was still shocked that her father, King Timon, had let her go. After allowing herself a small smile of victory, she turned her mind back to her mission. If she couldn't follow through, she knew that there would be no way her father would ever let her out of his sight again. Sartura evaluated her situation and determined there was still about six hours of sunlight left; she knew she needed to make the best of that time. Pressing her horse onward, she bent down to allow the horse's head to block the wind.

It was her brother, Prince Darmuth, who had taught her to ride. No one else at the castle ever had time to teach her much of anything. Apparently, a Princess's job was to marry well and strengthen the kingdom's alliances. At least that was what her mother had always taught her. But that was never enough for Sartura. It had been her brother, Prince Purstar, who had taught her how to fight with the sword.

She could still remember the fight she and her father had the night he learned that her brother had been training Sartura in the stables on how to use a sword, knife, and shield. "Women do not fight!" he shouted. "I cannot believe that a daughter of mine would do this to me," he snapped, as he left the stables.

The disappointment in her father's eyes killed Sartura inside. She never intended to hurt him; she just wanted to be more – she felt driven to be more. For the next few weeks, King Timon wouldn't even look at her, leaving the room when she entered. His anger was apparent to all those that saw them together.

It took a long time before she even approached her brother for additional lessons. When she finally did, she wasn't surprised by his refusal. Instead, she attempted to recreate the lessons on her own. She tried to remember everything her brother had taught her. She even tied her hair back, as her brother insisted, even though she had initially hated it. She knew it was important to keep her hair out of her face.

Her fear of being caught caused Sartura always to feel that someone was watching her practice. Only months later did she realize that she indeed was being observed, watched over by her brother's trainer, her new mentor.

As it got close to dusk, Sartura started to look for a place to camp. She knew it was far too dangerous to travel in the dark, even with the moon casting its ghostly rays of light across the prairie floor. She rode another half an hour before she found a small alcove. There she would be able to stake her horse's rope to the ground, allowing it plenty of space to eat, while at the same time, giving her a place to hide in the shadows.

After removing the saddle from her mount, Sartura used it for her headrest. She set up her little camp on the far side of the clearing, where she would be able to observe anyone or anything entering the small alcove. From there, she could also watch her horse throughout the night. She had gone camping with her brothers on occasion, but nothing she had ever done prepared her for sleeping outside alone.

The night dragged on. Each owl hoot or the sound of branches rubbing against each other caused her great anxiety. It was long after midnight when she finally fell asleep. As dawn slowly broke across the sky, Sartura was prepared to leave. Giving her horse one last drink from the watering bag, she placed her saddle on the horse and rode out of the alcove. The sun breaking over the mountains confirmed which direction was east. Knowing that, Sartura turned her mount and continued to travel northeast.

Raaj and Darmuth ate in silence. Before long, Darmuth started to ask Raaj the question.

"No," Raaj said.

"But..."

"No!" Raaj repeated.

There was no reason that Darmuth could think of, for Raaj to prevent him from riding out with the scouting party. As he was thinking of a new way to ask Raaj if he could go, Raaj spoke up. "Go to our room and do your exercises. We will be back in the morning."

Darmuth knew it was pointless to attempt to persuade Raaj to allow him to go with them. He finished his dinner, placed the plate in the scrubbing barrel, and started to walk up to their room.

"Did you break your arm?" Raaj asked. "If not, get back down here and wash that dish."

Raaj began washing his dish, and when he was finished, he leaned it against the other plates to let it dry. As Raaj walked away, he could hear Darmuth washing his plate. Raaj smiled to himself thinking, I bet that is the first time the young Prince has had to wash dishes here in the castle.

By the time Raaj got to the gate of the castle, a team of ten scouts had been assembled. They were sitting on their horses listening to Lord Kimberlee's instructions. "I want them taken alive. Do you understand?" Kimberlee asked. "Go get two additional horses. You will probably have to tie the prisoners to the horses to bring them back."

While Lord Kimberlee gave his final instructions, Raaj climbed on his Payleen and rode up to meet the scouting party.

"I will ride ahead, using my Familiar to scout and find the Shakarine spies. Once I locate them, I will signal to your team, and they can capture them."

As the head scout began to protest, Lord Kimberlee explained. "The wizard's horse makes no sound. His eagle will be able to spot the spies from half a mile away, and once they are located, you will be responsible for finishing the mission." Kimberlee continued, "Now go and bring me back some spies."

Raaj spun his horse around and headed out the gate. Overhead, the piercing cry of his eagle announced her arrival. Abinya landed on Raaj's arm so that Raaj could cast the Night Vision spell on her. Once the spell was cast, the eagle immediately flew west.

They had ridden about two and a half hours when Raaj saw a small light. From his Familiar's vantage point, it looked like the embers from a small campfire. This didn't make sense, but Raaj directed Abinya to fly toward the fire. The eagle flew overhead for several minutes before Raaj could see that there were three men lying on the ground near the fire pit.

The light from the embers was causing problems for Raaj. There was too much light, and it was making it impossible to see much around the fire pit. The Familiar attempted to approach the camp from several directions, but nothing worked. Finally, Raaj directed Abinya to land in a nearby tree to watch the enemy camp.

He needed to check out the camp himself. Abinya would be able to give an alert if any of the men moved or noticed him approaching. It always seemed strange to Raaj when he could see himself in Abinya's vision.

As Raaj approached the camp, however, he couldn't see the light being cast from the fire embers. It wasn't until he arrived at the edge of the camp that Raaj could see they had placed some sort of cylinder around the fire, so the only way one could see the embers was from the air.

To the left of the men were the hides and heads of two deer. This was all Raaj needed to see to know; they had found their spies. Slowly backing away from the camp, Raaj returned to his Payleen and rode to meet the oncoming scouts. After riding about a half mile, Raaj was far enough away from the camp to guide the scouts where they would find and capture the spies.

Raaj continued to watch the spies' camp through Abinya's eyes, but after several minutes, Raaj was confused. There was no sentry, no one was moving, and it was strange that spies in an enemy country would even take the chance of starting a fire. He decided he wanted Abinya to search the area better; something was going on.

As Abinya circled the enemy campfire, about one hundred yards away from the camp, she could see that one of the spies was awake and sitting in a tree overlooking the prairie. Initially, Raaj feared he had been spotted, but then he realized if that was the case, the spy in the tree would have sounded an alarm, and they would have been long gone by now.

When the Yemenite scouts caught up with Raaj, he explained the situation. Even with ten men, they had to make sure to capture all the spies. The concern was that there might be another camp with another group of spies hiding in the night somewhere else.

The plan was simple; the scouts would approach the camp Raaj had spotted. Three of the men would take out the spy in the tree, and the others would capture the spies on the ground. Raaj would stand back and watch to make sure no one escaped. His Familiar would continue to scout around the area to see if she could find any other spies. Once the enemies were captured, Raaj would use a Truth Speak spell to determine if any other spies were in the area.

Raaj's Familiar allowed him to see the scouts preparing to capture the Shakarine spies. It didn't take long for the scouts to surround and capture the Shakarine. If Raaj hadn't been standing where he was, he would have never heard the branch break, which led him to realize they were not alone. Raaj didn't even need to direct Abinya to look toward the sound, for the eagle had done it naturally. From where Raaj stood, he could see two spies racing for the forest's edge several hundred yards away.

Raaj whistled for Verser while his Familiar kept track of the two men. Once the Payleen arrived, Raaj chased down the two unseen Shakarine spies. Approaching the first spy, he cast an Entangle spell and watched the figure trip and fall to the ground. As he passed the spy, he cast a Light spell on him. In this darkness, if the spy could escape from the Entangle spell, he would be easy to find.

Raaj was unable to catch the other spy before he entered the forest. Unfortunately, tracking the spy through the woods in the dark would be nearly impossible. Stopping at the forest's edge, Raaj listened but couldn't hear a sound. He knew the spy had entered the woods and was hiding just within the tree line. He figured the spy was watching for his pursuer.

Directing his eagle to turn and fly back toward the scouts, Raaj took a chance. If he could surprise and blind the Shakarine spy, perhaps he could locate him before the spy could regain his sight. Closing his eyes and burying them in his arm, Raaj cast a Flash spell. The intensity of the flash could blind someone for several minutes, even in daylight.

Off to his right, he heard the scream of a woman followed by the sounds of someone crashing through the forest. The noise she made as she ran through the forest made it easy to track her. While Raaj was still unable to see where the spy was, he started casting a Thorned Entangle spell in the direction of the sound. After the third spell he cast, he heard the her cry out, as she was ensnared by a thorned vine. By the time he got the captured spy to the edge of the forest, two of Kimberlee's scouts were waiting for him.

"We saw the flash of light and thought you were in danger," one of the scouts reported to Raaj.

Smiling, the wizard turned over the captured spy to the scouts. "There is another one several hundred yards back. He has a Light spell on him and should be easy to find," Raaj explained. It only took a few moments for his Familiar to find the missing spy and guide them to where he was magically bound.

After the scouts had gathered all the spies into one location, Raaj cast a Light spell and started the interrogation. The wizard could tell he wasn't the only one surprised. The enemy spies were women. Looking closer, Raaj could tell they were Warteen, the female barbarian warriors from the mountain region south of the High Plains.

Raaj interrogated the spies to determine if there were any others. After casting the first Truth Speak spell, he was confident that there were no other spies, and they had captured all of them. But the Captain of the Scouts wanted to verify the first spy's story. He asked Raaj to cast the Truth Speak spell on each of them. All five of them told the same story. The spies were then tied and draped over the horses. Because there were two extra horses, each of the spies were draped over the one of the packhorses, and two scouts rode with one of the spies draped over their horse between the saddle horn and the neck of their horse.

It was close to midnight before Raaj and the scouting party headed back to the castle. Raaj thought it was best to wait until they were back at the castle so Lord Kimberlee would be able to continue interrogating the spies further.

As the moon crested over the mountain ridge, Yron climbed on Tristina's back. Galloping to catch up with his captive, he reached down, grabbed her by the arm, and pulled her up to sit in front of him on the horse. Brelyah initially wanted to resist but thought better of it. He was just as likely to cast another spell on her, as he was to leave her to walk behind.

After a few minutes, Yron released the Silence spell. He would never admit it, but he did like the sound of Brelyah's voice. At times it sounded as if she was singing the words she spoke. Brelyah leaned forward, so she didn't have to touch Yron as they rode, but as the miles passed, she forgot that she was pretending to be mad and leaned back against him.

It was a little disconcerting to her that Yron never used a bridle on his horse. She figured it was some spell that he cast, so the horse could understand what Yron wanted it to do. Maiggii's, she thought, they have all the fun.

Brelyah awoke with a start. Yron had stopped his horse and was sliding off. With Brelyah still on her back, Tristina walked over and stood next to the tree line. Yron disappeared into the darkness ahead. Brelyah couldn't see where he was, but by tracking the horse's head movements, she had a good idea.

He had been gone for thirty minutes when she noticed the horse's ears had perked up. The horse took a step forward then stopped. It was obvious the Payleen wanted to move forward, but something was preventing her. Brelyah could feel the horse's restlessness. Interesting, she thought, I can't hear the horse make a sound.

As the minutes passed, the horse became more and more restless. Brelyah was preparing to climb off; she then felt something touch her leg. "We will camp here tonight," she heard Yron whisper. The darkness had betrayed her; she hadn't seen Yron approach. Yron cast a Moonbeam spell that provided enough light for the party to see where he was leading them. Quietly, they walked forward. Brelyah quickly became aware she was the noisiest walker. Try as she might, she could hear her every step. Occasionally, she could hear Yron but never the horse.

After a few minutes, Yron led them into a small alcove at the forest's edge. It wasn't very big, but large enough for the two to have a place to sleep, along with enough room for the horse to graze. Yron pulled out the feed and water pouches to take care of Tristina. After she was cared for he removed some food for them to eat – dried meat, bread, and honey.

Brelyah smiled and thought; This is becoming a habit with this boy. Doesn't he know there is more to life than dried meat, bread, and honey? To her surprise, the words she had thought, had actually come out of her mouth. He had removed the spell, she realized. Embarrassed, she took the food that was offered to her and ate quickly. She wasn't in the mood to talk.

Chapter 24

"How could they coordinate such an attack?" Lord Kimberlee asked Raaj.

Raaj didn't know, and his mind was still reeling. One Shakarine army was preparing to attack from the west, and another army of Shakarine attacked from the northeast and the south. A third army made up of Warteen warriors was traveling down the road that he, Darmuth and Yron had just used before taking the old road through the woods toward the old castle.

It finally made sense. The reason for the Warteen spies, which they captured along the road on their way to Yemenor, was to prevent someone from detecting and alarming the people of Yemenor of the advancing Warteen army. The Hawkriders were helping them.

Raaj hadn't answered, so Lord Kimberlee asked another question. "Does it surprise you that the Shakarine are still over two weeks away?"

Raaj still didn't answer; instead, he stroked his chin in thought. The silence became deafening. Raaj finally responded, "If what the spies say is true, your people are fleeing into the arms of the advancing Warteen army. They will be slaughtered."

The news struck Lord Kimberlee like a rock. Until Raaj had pointed it out, the danger the people of Yemenor were in, had never dawned on him.

"We need to warn them," Lord Kimberlee stated, murmuring the obvious. "We need to warn them now."

"No, now we need to stop and make sound decisions as to the best course of action. One or two hours will not make a difference," Raaj replied. "We need to send a warning to the fleeing citizens," Raaj continued. "But who?"

"We should send Darmuth," Lord Kimberlee suggested. "That way he will get out of this death trap and will be safe."

"You want to send the King's son into the arms of a waiting Warteen army?" Raaj questioned. "If the Warteen catches up with the people of Yemenor, he will just be one of the tens of thousands that are slaughtered." Raaj continued.

"You're right, I didn't think it through," Lord Kimberlee confessed.

"Perhaps, it should be you," Raaj suggested, impatiently Lord Kimberlee started to object immediately.

"No, think about it. Who knows this land better than you?" Raaj countered.

Lord Kimberlee attempted to interject, but Raaj continued, "Who is better prepared to lead those people away from the Warteen than you? Who can plan a defensive retreat for the people better than you?" Raaj stopped and looked at Lord Kimberlee, waiting for him to answer.

Lord Kimberlee knew the answer, but he didn't want to admit it.

"Your death here will provide no value to anyone. Your life there may save thousands," Raaj finished.

Lord Kimberlee couldn't argue with Raaj's logic. He hated it, but the wizard was right. Looking at Lord Kimberlee, Raaj could tell they had come to the same conclusion.

The men stood silent, staring at the floor. After a few minutes, Lord Kimberlee looked in the direction of the Warteen spies. "I believe the information we obtained from the spies is the truth."

Raaj agreed. "There is no reason we should take the spies with us when we leave the castle," he added.

Both men understood that taking the spies with them increased the risk of the spies escaping. If they could get away, the spies would provide information to the Shakarine and Warteen armies of the whereabouts and plans of the Yemenor army.

It was agreed, that they would place the spies in the prison cells and leave them there when they abandoned the city; the enemy armies would find them when they stormed the castle. While they had the spies imprisoned, Lord Kimberlee's men could provide them with misinformation.

"I will develop a story for the guards to feed the spies. Your guards will be instructed to give the misinformation to them in bits and pieces, while they pretend to have casual conversations," Raaj continued. Lord Kimberlee smiled, approving of the plan.

"Perhaps we need to verify the information we gathered. I am convinced they told the truth as they know it, but what if they were given misinformation, so if they happened to be captured, they would give us bad information?" Raaj wondered aloud.

Lord Kimberlee nodded and continued, "We will need to send another scouting party out in the morning."

"What is the plan if the attack really is fourteen days away? Should we abandon the castle upon confirmation?" Raaj asked. "After all, if we left now, we could catch up with the people from Yemenor and reach the King's army a week earlier than planned."

"You will have to make that decision once the scouts return," Lord Kimberlee suggested. "We need to gather the men together and explain the situation to them," he continued.

Nodding, Raaj added, "Let's gather back here in thirty minutes. It is time I head back to my room."

Darmuth was lying on his bed when Raaj entered the room. Looking around, Raaj could see that the exercise equipment hadn't been moved since he left two mornings ago. Shaking his head, he found himself extremely disappointed in the King's youngest son. He needed to figure out what to do to get the young Prince engaged in the exercise program.

Raaj knew that a sword from his brother's Inset would be one of the finest in the land. Not only did Prince Purstar possess incredible swordsmanship skills, but his strength and endurance were legendary. Without equal strength, Darmuth wouldn't be able to fully use the Inset. In addition, Raaj had great concern that the ego of the sword, coupled with Darmuth's lackadaisical attitude, would lead to his demise.

Each Inset carried the ego of the individual that was cast into the sword. If the Inset item didn't feel appreciated or respected, there had been occasions reported when an Inset item failed to perform at a critical time, which caused the receiver of the item to lose the abilities provided by the Inset. The results on those occasions – the wielder died, and the Inset was picked up and used by another.

Raaj made a mental note to talk to the King about this before the Inset sword was given to the young Prince. There were times Raaj wished he had never learned about the Inset spell. The burden of that knowledge, and the understanding of not only how the spell should be used but the great dangers of its improper usage, was overwhelming at times.

For the first time, it really cut into Raaj's celest that he would be passing that knowledge and burden on to his young maiggii. He had shown Yron the spell when he cast the Inset upon King Randerweed, allowing his son to receive all his father's abilities from a steel and plithim bow that had contained the King's Inset. After Yron had initially seen the Inset spell used, he became enamored by its power. Raaj hadn't realized to what extent Yron had immersed himself in learning the spell until about nine months later.

Since that time and unbeknownst to Raaj, Yron had been practicing the spell in private in the evenings. It wasn't until Yron brought one of his experiments to Raaj's attention, that he finally realized what Yron had been doing. Yron had captured a white owl and cast its Inset into a small metal band that he was using as a ring. The ring was allowing Yron to walk around at night without the use of light.

After Yron had shown Raaj the ring and its abilities, the wizard was curious as to how his maiggii had developed the night-vision ring. It was then, that Yron explained to Raaj what he had done. He went on to detail that, while it was initially successful, within a week or two, the ring began to lose power and soon became nothing but a metal band.

Raaj was grateful he hadn't shown Yron how to prepare the metal properly so that the Inset would become permanent. Yron was too young to have such power. Besides, it was the custom to wait and only pass the full knowledge of a wizard on to his maiggii when the wizard neared the end of his active career.

However, without the knowledge of how to make the Inset permanent, Yron started to experiment with other elements of the spell. It took Yron three years before he made his first big breakthrough by discovering how to cast the Inset on an individual and capture the Inset in a koa box covered with plithim.

This was an aspect of the Inset that Raaj had never heard of, even in the scroll that contained the knowledge of Old Magic. The idea that an Inset could be contained, and not placed into the object at the casting, could upset the delicate balance of the Inset.

Up until now, if the Inset object wasn't prepared before the need for the Inset spell to be cast, there would be no Inset. This made it so there were very few Inset objects, and those made could only be crafted by a wizard who possessed the knowledge of the Inset. That burden was Raaj's, and someday it would be Yron's.

Returning to the present as he shook aside the extraneous information, Raaj kicked Darmuth's foot, saying, "Get up, boy, you didn't practice last night."

Initially, Darmuth tried to reassure Raaj that he had indeed practiced, but Raaj's glare persuaded Darmuth that to lie further would be foolish. Rolling out of bed, Darmuth started to do his exercises. Raaj shook his head; Darmuth's half-hearted workout wouldn't do.

Now more than ever, Raaj was convinced he needed to talk with King Timon about the wisdom of giving the Inset sword of Prince Purstar to Darmuth until he was old enough and mature enough to understand the value of the weapon, and the power it would give to the wielder of the sword.

The trumpet calling the men in the castle together for a meeting broke Raaj's internal conversation. Kicking Darmuth's boot again, he said, "That message to assemble below includes us."

Darmuth looked out the window and realized it was still dark outside. "What is it?" Darmuth asked.

"You will find out with the rest of the men," Raaj replied. "Let's go!" Raaj said as he gave the unmoving Darmuth a little nudge to move out the door.

When everyone had assembled, Lord Kimberlee climbed partly up the stairs that lead to the castle wall.

Clearing his throat, the Lord started, "The information we acquired from the spies is bad. There are three armies converging on the castle here in Yemenor. Those fleeing from the castle, are in the direct path of the Warteen army approaching from the south. We need to warn them."

Lord Kimberlee continued amid the murmuring. "There is nothing more I would rather do than stay here and provide more time for our people." The words were hard for Lord Kimberlee, and everyone could see it.

Stepping onto the stairs, Raaj continued. "For the safety of the people of Yemenor, and because Lord Kimberlee is the most capable of all of us to help the people of this city develop a defensive retreat from the advancing Warteen army, it is best that he be the one to warn the fleeing citizens of this city of the danger and provide for their defense."

Raaj continued, "Those of us left here must create a great enough diversion, so the Shakarine armies which will attack us from the west and the northeast will not peel off and chase the people fleeing from this castle. We are not destined to die here, but we are called to save the lives of the families of this city by holding the Shakarine armies at bay for as long as we are able."

Lord Kimberlee raised his arm high and shouted, "Until we meet again, my brothers!"

"Until we meet again!" the men shouted back.

"Now, as you would for me, follow this wizard in the final preparation for Yemenor's defenses and the ensuing battle," Lord Kimberlee concluded. With that, the Lord climbed down the stairs and mounted his horse, which had been prepared for his departure. The gate opened, and Lord Kimberlee rode into the darkness.

Havendar refused to talk with Tarrie for the remainder of the night. She had played him for a fool, and he was just too embarrassed to say anything. What bothered him was not that she had bested him; she had deceived him. Havendar refused to lie on the bed. Tonight, he would sleep in the chair.

Sitting in the dark and staring out the window at the stars, Havendar reviewed all the signs that he had failed to notice about Tarrie. How could he have been so deceived, and how could this woman prove to be even more frustrating than she initially appeared? Havendar sighed in annoyance. This changed everything about his escape. Did he need to keep his plans secret? Was escaping from the cell now too risky? At least he no longer felt obligated to help the barbarian woman escape with him. She could get out on her own or stay here forever. He didn't much care either way.

Tarrie stayed in bed fuming but wasn't sure why she was so angry with the ranger. She knew their fight wasn't his fault – she had been the one withholding information. But how could he blame her? Did he expect everyone to trust him? Why shouldn't she keep her skills to herself? Thinking it through only made her more frustrated. At least he's sleeping in the chair tonight, she thought. Otherwise, I would have to be the one to move. His ego is so inflated that I cannot stand being around him.

When Tarrie awoke in the morning, she could tell the ranger hadn't moved all night. However, there was no way for her to know if he had stayed awake all night.

The guards brought breakfast. Tarrie ate in silence as Havendar refused to acknowledge her existence. He kept his eyes averted, eventually moving his chair to face the window and away from her. A few minutes later, the guards returned to take the two to the practice arena. Havendar continued to keep Tarrie's secret and defended her against all attacks. He tried to justify the decision by telling himself that keeping her secret would somehow aid him in his escape plans.

Tarrie tried to talk to Havendar several times during the day, but each time he refused to acknowledge her words. Her pride had gotten the best of her; she was as angry with Havendar, as she was with herself. All she would had to of done was tell him that she knew how to fight in hand-to-hand or sword-to-sword combat, and they would still be friends.

All her life, Tarrie had felt the need to get the best of any male she met. It was certainly a part of her culture, but her training as an Ambassador had increased her desire to show-up any man whenever she had the chance. Tarrie figured that if she hadn't been the Queen's daughter, she would have been kicked out of the Ambassador Corps long ago.

The next few days were the same. Havendar refused to interact with Tarrie, and Tarrie switched between being angry and sulking. Occasionally, she lashed out with derogatory comments, but it usually only took a few minutes before she realized she didn't mean what she had said – she was carrying on out of anger. She knew she was acting like one of those spoiled courtiers in the Queen's court, and she hated it.

At night, there was a deep sadness because she felt so alone. In the mornings, she had stopped hiding her warrior's dance from Havendar. The exercise seemed to release her stress about the immature way Havendar was acting. She had always heard that rangers were without emotion and never allowed themselves to be emotionally affected by any action of those around them. That is not the case with this ranger, Tarrie thought.

Havendar couldn't shake the feeling of betrayal. Yes, it was funny that she had bested him. Yes, the setup was perfect. However, to be warriors fighting back-to-back in the arena, there had to be absolute and complete trust. They each had to know what the other was thinking or doing at any given moment and holding something that important back then springing it on him like she did, was nothing short of her trying to humiliate him.

How could he ever trust her again? His initial fear that Tarrie could be a spy placed in the cell as some elaborate attempt to gather information about the Yemenor strongholds haunted his mind again. He wanted to reach out and talk to her, but what was there to say? It was hard for Havendar to admit, but he missed her.

Sartura rode until mid-afternoon before she stopped to rest at a small grove of trees conveniently nestled next to one of the cool streams that crossed the prairie. She was pleased with her choice of location. The cool water would be refreshing, not just for her, but also, for her horse. The shade would provide relief from the heat, and it would be nice just to relax, while she rested her horse and ate.

Sitting with her feet in the cool water, she removed her helmet, freeing her long, black hair to flutter in the gentle wind. Sartura tore a piece of bread from the loaf and soaked it in the stream before eating it. Occasionally she would break off a piece of dried meat from the jerky strip in her pack and chew on it until it lost its flavor before she swallowed. When the moisture from the damp dirt at the stream's edge began to cause a wet spot on her pants, she knew it was time to continue onward.

Refilling her water pouch and placing her pack and water pouch on the horse was the last thing she did before she mounted her horse to continue her journey. Sartura hadn't ridden for more than an hour before she saw a banner-carrier with a crest she couldn't read flapping in the wind, accompanied by two other riders heading west. It took a while for the wind to cause the banner to stretch out enough for her to recognize it.

It was the banner of King Branack. She thought this was strange, especially upon her recollection that King Branack's Kingdom was two and a half weeks hard travel from Yemenor. Grabbing her helmet, she placed it over her head, coiling her hair carefully inside. She then placed her cloak with Yemenor's crest embroidered in the middle of the back over her shoulders. Whistling for the riders to stop, Sartura slapped her horse with the flat of her hand and galloped up to greet them.

"Branack's banner carrier, where are you headed?" she hailed in her deepest of voices. Hearing her words, the banner carrier pulled back. As Sartura rode up to them, she turned her horse around, so they could see the crest on her back.

"We are headed to Yemenor. We have a message for your King Timon," the man on the right of the banner carrier spoke.

"What message do you bring to our King?" Sartura asked.

"Our message is for the King's ears only," the same man responded.

She pulled her sword and lifted it to the man's chin, "I cannot let you pass unless I can see your credentials. These are times of war, and we must be careful," Sartura ordered.

Before the other man had pulled his sword halfway out of the sheaf, Sartura had spun her horse and swung her sword, slapping the flat of her blade against his shoulder. "I could have taken that arm off. You are lucky I chose to believe you are who you said you are. Now, show me your credentials," Sartura ordered again.

The man slid his sword back into its sheaf and produced a scroll with King Branack's seal on it. Sartura read it carefully before returning it. "King Timon is not at the castle. You will find him southwest heading for Benflyn Dor. There we plan on making a stand against the oncoming Shakarine forces.

"Now that you have seen our credentials, how are we to know the information you gave us is true?" the banner carrier asked.

From a slit in her chainmail armor, Sartura pulled a scroll out of her vest and shared it with King Branack's banner carrier. He read it and passed it back. Smiling, he said, "These are times of war, and we must be careful."

Sartura smiled and nodded.

"I am Jardea of Brandor," the banner carrier announced.

"They call me Arutras. I have no title," Sartura replied.

"The Arutras from the games? The people's champion? We did not know you hailed from Yemenor."

Sartura nodded. "Now, I too, have a message to deliver and must be on my way. You will find King Timon about a day and a half to two days to the southwest of here. Travel safe," Sartura responded.

Turning her horse and heading northeast, Sartura slapped her horse's side with her legs and started to ride off. She wished she hadn't used her fighting name. She was sure they would say something to her father, and that was something she didn't want him to know. After all, there were no rules against women fighting in the games, but the ruckus that would occur if that information, that his daughter fought in the games, was ever made public, would cause her father great angst.

There were only a handful of people who knew that Sartura moonlighted as the people's champion for the Championship games. It was only by coincidence that her brother, Prince Purstar, had discovered who she was and kept her secret for the last two years. Even now, she could remember the look on her brother's face, as he chased her down after one of the fights. The prince had wanted to congratulate her on her most recent victory in the tournament. She didn't hear him when he called out to her. When she finally did hear him, she hadn't recognized his voice. It wasn't until she had climbed on her horse and was preparing to ride away, that she heard someone calling her name.

As the horse turned, she came face-to-face with her brother. Initially, he recognized the horse he had given her when she had turned fourteen, and before he said another word, she could tell he had recognized her. They never talked about the incident. It was a secret that neither of them wanted to admit they knew. It was better that way.

Toward the end of the day, Sartura started to follow a road that ran alongside the tree line. By evening, she had come upon an intersection of roads where a small inn had been built. Sartura stopped at the inn. She knew she could get a good meal, have her horse taken care of, and have a nice place to rest. She couldn't think of a reason why staying at the inn wasn't a good idea.

After placing her horse in the stable, she entered the inn. The portly innkeeper looked up. "Are you boarding here tonight?" he asked.

Sartura nodded.

"That will be seven pyra," he said. "We will feed you supper and bed down your horse." Sartura grabbed seven pyra from the pouch at her side and paid the innkeeper. She knew it was customary to haggle over the price of the cost of the Inn, but she was too tired. As she handed him the coins, she asked him how much further to King Holben's castle. Pointing east, the innkeeper replied, "It is a half day's ride from here."

"One more thing. I know it is customary to haggle with you over the cost for the night, but just take good care of my horse, and we will be even," Sartura commented as she walked toward one of the tables in the room to sit down.

"You can have that room," the innkeeper said, as he pointed at a door that opened into the dining room. Sartura thanked him, and before she sat down, the innkeeper's wife brought out a bowl of hot stew with a loaf of bread. Sartura was impressed with the service and gratefully ate the entire bowl, sopping the last of the juices with the last of the bread.

I am going to rest well tonight, she thought, as she closed and locked the door of the room. Sartura lay down on the bed fully dressed, and while she rehearsed her run-in with the King Branack's messengers, exhaustion overcame her.

King Timon took several men and rode forward to Benflyn Dor. When he arrived, he could tell the advanced team had been hard at work. The path to the top of the plateau, carved in the rock back in the times of the Shadow Wars, had been cleared of brush and debris from hundreds of years of non-use.

Trees had grown on the rock shelf that made up the trail to the top. There were places where time had caused portions of the trail to collapse. The trees that were cut down from the trail were being used to build bridges across those sections of the trail that had eroded over time.

"Has anyone been to the top?" King Timon asked.

"Too much of the road to the top of the plateau has been destroyed by erosion," Lord Burtel replied as he shook.

"We need to get some men up there. We need to understand the water situation. If the wells are gone, and we cannot bring them back, this cannot be a place where we can defend ourselves and withstand a siege," the King stated.

"Lord Burtel, I need some of your men to prepare a place for our army to set up camp," he continued.

As the King turned to follow the men ordered to help prepare a camp, he heard Lord Burtel order several men to climb to the top of the plateau and assess the water situation there.

By nightfall, what was left of King Timon's army had set up a makeshift camp. Dinner was being served, and the camp was divided up and organized into work crews. Along the edge of the camp, sentries had been posted to warn and protect the site.

Shortly after dusk, one of the sentries guarding the perimeter of the camp sounded a trumpet signaling that a messenger for the King had arrived and was requesting permission to advance. The timing was curious; there wasn't enough time for his daughter to have reached Lord Myningar, and for him to have dispatched a message back.

The King watched out the window of his tent, as the messengers approached. As they passed one of the campfires, the King could see that one man was carrying the banner of King Branack. This caused King Timon to leave the tent he shared with his son and immediately greet the messenger.

The guard who had escorted the messenger presented the King with the messengers' credentials. "Your Majesty, they appear to be valid," stated the guard. The King looked at the credentials then turned to the messengers.

As he did so, the messenger reached into his vest to grab something. Seemingly from out of nowhere, a host of guards appeared, weapons pulled. Several men grabbed the messenger and held him pinned to the ground while others stood warily between the King and the messenger. Slowly, they pulled the hand from the messenger's vest. In it was a scroll meant for the King.

"These are times of war, and we must be careful," the King offered as an apology.

"Yes, I know..." But before the messenger could continue with his statement, the King had taken the scroll in his hand and started to read. Taking a deep breath, King Timon rolled up the scroll and turned to the messenger.

"There is no time to waste. Tell King Branack that if he, or any others, can make it to Benflyn Dor, we will be waiting for them. They may have refuge here. Now go. There is no time for a written response." With that, King Timon turned to his guards, ordering, "Give them our best horses. Give them supplies and help them get on their way."

"Call the War Council. We have no time to lose!" the King commanded.
Chapter 25

Lord Kimberlee was looking over all the preparations that had been made to the temporary camp – set up for the citizens of Yemenor to gather at before they headed south to meet up with the King and his army. They had waited for the Queen's arrival, and now it was time for them to depart. They needed to hurry, as each minute they delayed put the entire company at risk. The sooner they met up with the King and his army, the better. It didn't make sense to flee the castle's protection only to be caught in the middle of the prairie by an invading army.

Even though they had been planning the departure for three days now, Lord Kimberlee was up most of the night making last minute preparations. He knew they would need to stop each night to rest. The plan was for the kitchen crews to make sufficient food for the next day at each camp.

As dawn broke, Lord Kimberlee made the last orders for the day. Standing on the back of the wagon to appraise the situation, he suddenly doubted the trust that Raaj had placed in him. There were thousands of wagons, each filled with cooking gear, food, harvested crops, planting seeds, farming tools, construction tools, forges, anvils, and everything and anything else that seemed essential for their survival.

Behind the wagons, handcarts carried clothing and those personal belongings that couldn't be left behind. The wagons carrying the weapons and armor came next. The catapults followed them. Those animals that couldn't be herded were placed in cages and rode in the last wagons. Behind the entire column were thousands of grazing animals that needed to be moved.

The wagons were organized into groups of a hundred. At the head of each group, was a wagon filled with materials and supplies to repair wagons that might break down along the way. Next came the wagon filled with water barrels. They were to stop at each stream, and those in each company, would get out and fill the barrels with water after the wagon crossed the stream. Lord Kimberlee figured that if the wagons crossed the river before they put the extra weight on them by filling the barrels with water, it would help reduce the damage to the wagons' axels as they descended and then climbed the streams' banks. Attached to the side of each wagon, was a bucket that was to be used to fill the water barrels.

Lord Kimberlee had tried to think of every contingency. He was sure that once they started, he would discover what they had forgotten, but now it was time to sound the message that the entire camp had been anticipating. It was time to move out. As the message passed from camp to camp and from trumpeter to trumpeter, a shout broke out. Today, it was a shout of joy and encouragement, but Lord Kimberlee wondered how long it would be until the shouts of joy turned to murmuring and complaining.

Fortunately, that wasn't a problem he needed to deal with today. With that happy shout, he began the task at hand. Lord Kimberlee rode his horse to the top of a knoll and watched as the kitchen wagons started to pull out of the camps. As the wagons pulled out, Lord Kimberlee stared at the burned-out campfires. He had forgotten to prepare firewood for the kitchen crews.

From where he sat, he could see Lord Schow riding ahead. He would assign him to lead a group of men on horseback to ride ahead twenty miles, find a nearby stream, and make the early preparations for camp a mile beyond the stream. They would need to cut enough firewood for the kitchen crews and prepare the fire pits, making sure they were ready when the kitchen wagons arrived. Lord Kimberlee was embarrassed. How could he have overlooked something so simple?

At the crossing of the first stream, Lord Kimberlee stood on the river's edge and watched as the camp passed over the stream. The smile on his face, indicating how well things had been going so far, disappeared when the herd animals could smell the water from the stream and charged to the stream to drink. The animals could have stampeded the citizens on foot, and had it not been for fast thinking by the wagon drivers that were hauling the caged animals, Lord Kimberlee knew that many people would have been hurt.

The wagon drivers, recognizing the danger of the stampede, circled the wagons to make a barricade to protect the people. Lord Kimberlee cringed as several of the wagons were bowled over and destroyed. They had been lucky, and he knew it. To prevent this in the future, the herding animals would have to stay two or three miles behind the wagon train. They could be brought close to the camp once they were stopped for the night. This would allow the men assigned to watch over the herds at night to have an easier time keeping them together and protecting them from danger.

When they stopped for the first night, Lord Kimberlee called the camp officers together to discuss the logistics of the day and determine what could be done to make traveling easier. Refilling the water barrels had become a problem. It was taking too long for each wagon to stop and refill their water barrels. Tomorrow, they would try placing a stake with a red banner two hundred yards before the stream. As the water wagon passed the stake, they would sound a horn. People that were assigned to participate in a water bucket brigade before the wagon crossed the stream. Each member of the brigade would grab the bucket from the side of the wagon, run to the stream and fill their bucket with water. Once the water wagon crossed the stream, men would climb onto the wagon as the bucket brigade would use their buckets to fill the empty water barrels. This would allow the water wagons to continue without stopping.

With that problem solved, Lord Kimberlee ate his dinner and headed to bed. In the background, he could hear songs and laughter of a camp on the move. He hoped they wouldn't stay up too late, but he knew that releasing the stress and fear through song and dance would only help morale.

Now was not the time, but in the morning, he would need to address the need of making sure families with small children, or those people that didn't want to participate in the evening festivities, could set up camp in separate areas.

He could smell the kitchen staff preparing the next day's meals. They are going to be up late, he thought. Tomorrow, he would need to move some of the empty wagons up to the front of the columns. They would use them to allow the cooking staff a place to sleep in as they traveled during the day, making sure they would be rested each evening when they needed to start preparing supper and the following day's meals.

It had been several days since Lord Kimberlee had departed the castle. The silence that followed his departure was uncomfortable to all. The men stood milling around, as Raaj turned to find they were looking at him. He needed to say or do something. Suddenly, he looked at Darmuth and knew what needed to be done.

"You feel alone. Perhaps some of you feel abandoned," Raaj started.

In the crowd, a couple of them were nodding in agreement. A few verbally confessed what was in their heart. Raaj had learned the value of a silent pause long ago. He looked in the face of every man who would look into his.

Raising his hand and pointing to Darmuth, Raaj continued, "Come here, my friend."

Darmuth started to climb the stairs to where Raaj stood. When Darmuth was close enough, Raaj whispered, "Are you ready for this?" Darmuth nodded. Raaj continued, "Okay, turn and pull back your hood. Let's provide these men with the strength they need to save your people."

As Darmuth turned, Raaj shouted, "If you feel abandoned, if you feel you are left here to die, if you feel this is a hopeless effort, then I ask you – why would your King leave his son to battle at your side?"

At the wizard's words, Darmuth turned and pulled back his hood. Raaj couldn't remember a time when the young Prince looked nobler. Initially, the men were confused, but as they began to recognize that the young man dressed in commoner clothing was none other than the King's second son, they started to kneel.

At the touch of the first knee, Darmuth shouted, "I am not your King. I am your friend, your comrade. Today, we will work together, shoulder to shoulder, and we will prepare the groundwork for our victory. We will sweat together, and when we are finished, we will dine together. And why will we do this? Because we are brothers in this noble cause. We may not have chosen this path, but we have been called to be here, and I, for one, will not let our people, our neighbors, or our families down."

"In the tomorrows, they will be alive because of what we do here today. If we die, we will die saving them. If we live, we will live to go to their side to help them continue this fight. And if we live to be old men, we will be old men knowing that today... today we stood together as brothers of a noble cause."

"We did not want this fight. We did nothing to start this fight, but by God we will end this fight, and that end begins here, today, now. Master Raaj has been asked to lead us, and I am waiting for his first order. Who is with me?"

Raaj stood clenching his teeth to choke back his tears. If anyone had looked closely, they would have seen that he didn't do as good of a job as he had wanted, as a tear slowly slid down his face. The men in the courtyard were shouting and cheering. Before him, stood a man; not the boy he had seen for the last few weeks. Today, Raaj thought, his father would be proud of him.

As the cheering faded, all eyes turned toward Raaj. Afraid that his voice would break because of the emotion of the moment, Raaj suggested they should pray. He hoped this would give him time to recover, but as the men before him crossed their arms and bowed their heads, he realized they expected him to say the prayer.

"We believe. We agree," the men spoke as Raaj finished the prayer. Afterward, he began to give directions to the men.

"The trenches we dug and filled with tar are only on the west side of the castle. We need to dig more of them on the south and east sides. The outer trenches need to be four to five feet deep. We need wagons to be hauling tar from the tar pits in the swamps behind the castle. We do not have much time, so we will work in shifts. The longer we keep these armies as far away from the castle as we possibly can, the more time we can give the people of this kingdom to flee to safety. It will be our defenses and the accuracy of our arrows that will give us that time.

"I need a volunteer to go down the tunnel to where the men are waiting with the horses. With the news of an army coming from the south, they will not be able to maintain their position. Have them move the staging area here." Raaj pointed to a spot on the map that hung on the wall. "If they can spare any men, bring them back with you. We need help digging."

Raaj walked the castle walls. He needed more straw soldiers stuffed and placed on the walkway along the east side of the castle. He would have to spread out the archer stations to prepare for attacks on all sides. Looking over the swamp in the back of the castle, he couldn't see how an army could attack from this side. However, he had been surprised so many times before, that he knew he needed to make sure there were plenty of arrows along the back walkway. As he watched the work that was being done on the east side of the castle, one thing that bothered him, the forest. If an army used the forest as cover, they could come within four hundred yards of the castle undetected while avoiding the ditches.

Raaj puzzled over this dilemma for the remainder of the day. By noon, he was working side by side with the men digging in the trenches. A few hundred yards away, he could see Darmuth with a shovel in hand, digging. If you did not know it, you would never realize this was the heir of a king, he thought.

As the sun began to set, Raaj surveyed what they had accomplished, which was more than he had expected. From his calculations, they would have the ditches ready in five or six days. Raaj felt relief with each passing hour that the scouts still being gone meant the army was that much farther away – providing the scouts hadn't been captured or killed.

As the men assembled for dinner, Raaj explained the modifications that needed to be made along the castle walls. He explained the situation he saw with the trees to the east saying, "If anyone here has any ideas to speed things up, or how to prepare better defenses, please, by all means, talk to me. We are in this together. If I was married or my maiggii was here, I am sure both parties would agree, that I don't know everything."

No one at the inn was awake when Sartura climbed on her horse and headed east toward the Holben castle. She was feeling guilty for taking a night's rest on a soft bed in a warm inn, while her father was resting on a bedroll spread out on the floor of his tent. By the break of dawn, Sartura had been riding for over two hours. She was grateful there was a road to follow. Crossing the prairie at night would have been a great risk.

The road meandered across the prairie. From her vantage point, Sartura could see that the road had several switchbacks ahead. She decided that by cutting across the prairie instead of following the road, she would shorten her time. However, what appeared to be a shortcut turned into a disaster. Ravines cut across the prairie, and each time she tried to shorten her path by cutting through a switchback, the depth of the ravine would force her to backtrack to the road. Stopping on one of the bridges, it was obvious that water had cut the greatly dried riverbeds that ran across the prairie floor. But where does the water come from? she wondered as she scanned the prairie floor.

She rode for another hour before she came to a place where the road cut through the trees. Sartura decided to rest and eat, waiting for the sun to get higher in the sky before she entered. As she chewed on a piece of bread that she had broken off the loaf she was carrying, she cursed herself for leaving the inn before breakfast.

Sartura's mind began to wander, and soon she was thinking about her older brother. Maybe it was a mistake to carry her father's message to Lord Myningar. She knew how sad he was. She could only imagine the anguish he must be feeling, watching his oldest son kept alive solely by magic, the second son missing, and now his only daughter heading into a battle situation. If her father felt as she did, she knew his heart was breaking because of the situation with her older brother, and here she was, placing herself in harm's way. And for what? Just to prove that she was just as much a man as a messenger...

The longer she sat eating, the more she realized her father must have the same heart-wrenching feelings for Purstar that she did. Each morning when she awoke, part of her wished her brother had been able to pass in peace as they slept. She knew her father wanted to pass the Inset sword onto Darmuth, and so, while she prayed for her brother to have peace, she couldn't allow herself to pray that he would pass.

The thought that Darmuth would get Purstar's Inset set in a sword angered her as well. She hated that; it wasn't fair. Darmuth would be given a sword that would make him a better swordsman than she was. That was not fair at all. Poof... one magic spell and years' worth of training would be nullified. Her youngest brother would be able to beat her. It just wasn't fair.

While it had been just over a week since Sartura had last seen Lord Myningar, she remembered the day he left. She recalled watching him lead the army out of sight, as they raced to King Holben's rescue. He was her friend and mentor. She wanted to leave with him then, but if she left, it was certain that the knowledge of her alter ego would be brought to light and years of secrecy and training would be undone.

Sartura grew weary of resting. Why am I so worried? she questioned herself. After all, she was a seasoned swordsman. Climbing into the saddle, Sartura took a deep breath, slapped her heels against the hindquarters of her horse, and started through the forest. Initially, each shadow caused her great concern, but after a few minutes, she could feel the tenseness in her shoulders ease. However, that didn't mean she was going to spend even an extra minute in the woods.

It took a little over an hour before the forest opened back into prairie lands. It was almost noon when Sartura saw a horse with a saddle on its back standing alongside the road. Scanning the surrounding area, she could see no reason for alarm. Dismounting from her horse, she cautiously approached the riderless horse. On the ground next to the horse, lay a Holben scout with two arrows embedded in the man's back. Crouching closer to the ground, Sartura attempted to discover where the archer that had shot the scout had been.

Rolling the scout on his side, she discovered he was still alive. Reaching for her pack that was strapped behind her saddle, she grabbed her water flagon to give him something to drink. The dried blood which coated his chainmail led her to believe he had been there for a while, perhaps a day or more. She placed her hands on the scout's face like she had seen her brother's Healers do to him.

Placing her hands on the scout's chest, she began to chant the Healing spell that she had memorized from the hours she spent at her brother's side. Closing her eyes, she attempted to repeat the chant that Gertoff used to keep her brother alive. The scout started to breathe easier. She knew, if she left this scout here, he would die, but she wasn't strong enough to lift him back onto his horse.

Looking around, she found two trees that were about twenty feet tall. Drawing her sword, she chopped them down. Once the trees were down, she removed all the limbs except those on one side the tree. Laying the trees three feet apart, she tied the branches from each tree to the trunk of the other tree. The branches formed a bed where the scout could lie. Across the top of the makeshift bed, she tied a four-foot branch section. This would serve as a crosspiece to which she could fasten a rope.

After dragging the scout onto the bed, she attached a rope from the crosspiece to the saddle horn of the scout's horse. By pulling down on the rope to draw the bed closer to the horse, she tied the other end of the rope to the other side of the crosspiece, thus, lifting the crosspiece, so it rested on the saddle. This would provide a comfortable ride for the scout. As the horse walked forward, the tops of the trees that drug on the ground would make the ride softer since they bent when the bed dragged across the uneven road. She had seen this done before and thought the term they used for this type of device was a travois.

She knew this would slow her down, but the scout carried the crest of King Holben, and she couldn't leave him behind. She grabbed the reins of the scout's horse and headed onward. It was a little after noon that she came upon two sentries guarding the road that led to King Holben's castle. They greeted her with caution, especially when they discovered the wounded scout. Off to the side of the path, were forty or fifty more soldiers who were on guard as well. Arrows were drawn and swords unsheathed. Sartura remained cautious. She didn't want to give anyone a reason to attack her.

"I have a message for Lord Myningar from King Timon," she declared, as she handed the first sentry her credentials. "This scout needs medical attention. I have done what I can, but you will need to get him to a Healer," Sartura continued.

The sentry ordered one of the men standing nearby to get a Healer. "You will need to wait here," the man explained to Sartura.

"Tell Lord Myningar that Arutras is waiting with a message for him," Sartura suggested confidently.

The Princess climbed off her horse and walked back to the travois on which the scout was resting. It couldn't have been comfortable for the scout to ride face down, but Sartura didn't want to cause additional injury by removing the arrows from his back. She turned the scout's head to the side so that she could pour some water into his mouth. As he began to drink, she chanted the Healing spell again. She had no idea if the spell was doing any good, but she was sure that the words, the melody, and cadence were right. They were the words she had heard a thousand times over during the last few weeks.

It wasn't long before a Healer arrived. The woman's concern for the scout's life was evident with the intensity in which she did her work. Sartura liked that this Healer cared so much. She reminded Sartura of Gertoff, the woman that attended her brother. Perhaps all Healers are like this, she thought. The woman was using a different spell than Sartura had ever heard. Before long, a second Healer arrived to help with the scout. Rolling the man on his side, the second woman began to remove the arrows.

As the arrows were removed, the wound reopened. Blood seeped down the scout's back. One of the Healers held the scout on her lap, resting his head against her chest, while the other Healer chanted another spell. Slowly, the blood from the arrow wounds began to stop.

"We need to get him out of this armor," the first Healer said to the second.

"You men over there," the second healed called out, "We need two of you to come here and help."

"We need to get this man out of his armor. Help us," the second Healer instructed when the guards approached.

As the men lifted the armor over the scout's head, it was obvious that the Healing spells had done nothing for the pain. When the guards moved the scout's shoulders to pull the armor over the man's head, he screamed. This was the first sound that Sartura had heard from the scout. She wasn't sure this was a good sign, but at least he was still alive.

After thanking the guards, the second Healer pulled a knife from her belt and began to cut the heavy burlap underclothing off the scout. Once the wounds on his back were exposed, the women started to place ointment and bandages on the wounds.

After the wounds were dressed, and the scout was lain back on the travois, the first Healer turned to Sartura, "You saved his life. Thank you," she said.

"All I did was place him on the travois and drag him here," Sartura replied.

"Oh, is that all?" the Healer asked, giving Sartura an all-knowing look.

Sartura didn't say more. Neither did the Healer. About the time the two healers were preparing to move the scout to the medical camp, Lord Myningar rode up on his gray stallion. Jumping off the horse, he raced up to Sartura. "Arutras, my friend!" he shouted. "It is so good to see you." Placing his mouth to Sartura's ear, he whispered, "I could kill you for placing yourself in such great danger."

"Come with me," Lord Myningar ordered. Pointing to the wounded man, he asked the sentry, "Who is that, and how did he get here?"

The sentry responded, "That information will need to come from your friend since he was the one who brought him here to camp."

Lord Myningar turned to Sartura.

"I found him alongside the road about two hours back. I did what I could to help him, but really did nothing more than build a travois and drag him here. The Healers did the rest," Sartura replied.

Turning toward the Healers, Lord Myningar ordered, "Inform me when he can talk."

"Now, what brings you here?" Lord Myningar asked Sartura curtly.

"I have a message from my fa... my King," Sartura replied.

Lord Myningar glared at Sartura. She realized she had to be more careful. She was embarrassed to be called on such a stupid thing.

"Well, let's see it," Lord Myningar demanded.

Chapter 26

In the morning when Brelyah awoke, Yron was nowhere in sight. Beside her lay three pieces of fruit. Tristina was resting with her eyes shut, and she could hear morning birds singing their tunes. Even though the tree leaves blocked the sun, she knew this would be the type of morning that she adored. In the past, whenever her schedule had allowed her, she would spend the night out under the stars, so she could feel the morning's warm rays waken her. It was a delight to have that opportunity again.

The smell of the trees and other forest plants reminded her of the beautiful gardens back home, manicured meticulously by the gardeners. Closing her eyes, she remembered – just as though she was back on the balcony – how the vineyard and gardens would glisten from the sun hitting the morning dew.

It was the breaking of a branch that caused Brelyah to snap back to reality from the daydreams of home. Lying flat on the ground, she rolled to the edge of the small alcove where they had spent the night. She pulled a branch of the nearby shrubs which hung over the top of her as she hid from whatever had made the noise. In the trees, the birds had stopped singing. All around, there was quiet.

Brelyah could hear her heart beating; the quickness of her breath was the only other noise she heard. Taking a deep breath, she slowed her breathing and tried to relax. Slowly, the birds began to resume their singing. First one, which was joined by another, and another, until finally, the entire forest seemed alive with the sound of birds singing again.

Brelyah was hungry, but the thought of eating that fruit embarrassed her. She was being spoiled after throwing her small tantrum about the food Yron had already shared with her. It was wrong, and she knew better than that. But then, almost like the perfect gentleman, he found her something she couldn't complain about. Okay, she smiled to herself, a perfect gentleman would have peeled it and served it to me on a platter.

At the edge of the alcove, the sun had cleared the tops of the trees and was warming the ground. Brelyah carried the bedroll over and laid it down, so she could have the sun warm her, as she waited for her not-quite-perfect gentleman to return.

Just before they broke camp, the lead sentries relayed the news to Lord Kimberlee that a messenger from King Timon had arrived in camp. Lord Kimberlee stopped the preparation to move out – he needed to find out what the King's dispatch said before they did anything more. Climbing on his horse, he raced out to meet up with the messenger and the forward sentries.

When Lord Kimberlee arrived, the sentries were talking with a young, travel-worn courier. He could hear them demanding the young courier's credentials.

"You are ordered to give me the message!" the sentry shouted. "Lord Kimberlee is not available, and you will need to turn these papers over to me."

"Give me the message," the sentry demanded again, as the courier shook his head.

"The message is for Lord Kimberlee," Yron replied, "and his eyes only."

"Lord Kimberlee is not available," the sentry repeated.

Yron didn't know what he should do. The King had ordered Yron to deliver the message to Lord Kimberlee personally, but access to the Lord was clearly restricted. Yron realized he would have to either disobey the King's orders, and give the message to the sentry, or stand his ground and prepare for a fight.

"Then I will wait until Lord Kimberlee is available," Yron responded resolutely.

Yron started to turn away when, out of the corner of his eye, he caught the sentry reaching for his arm. Casting a Trip spell, Yron reached and grabbed the sentry, as he was falling to the ground by his throat, pinning him to the ground. "I don't think you understand. This message is for Lord Kimberlee's eyes only."

"Guard, stand down," Lord Kimberlee shouted.

Unable to see who was talking, Yron tightened his grip on the young man's throat. Unable to see who shouted the order, "Are you Lord Kimberlee?" Yron questioned over his shoulder.

"Yes," shouted the Lord on the horse behind him.

"I have a message for you from the King," Yron stated.

Releasing the fallen sentry, Yron pulled a scroll out of his vest and handed it to Lord Kimberlee. Yron then recognized the Lord from when he had initially delivered the first message at Yemenor days ago.

Opening the message, Lord Kimberlee read the King's request, nodding occasionally.

"Come with me. You must be tired and hungry," Lord Kimberlee suggested. "I have to gather the camp officers, and we need to change our plans."

"Your Lordship, may I return to my camp and gather my things first?" Yron requested.

"Yes, go," Lord Kimberlee, ordered. Then, turning to his men, he continued, "When he returns, send him to the kitchen area and make sure he gets a good meal and some rest."

She didn't know how long she had rested; it was Yron calling her name and telling her it was time to be moving on that woke Brelyah from her sun-soaked rest. Getting up with a yawn, she handed Yron the bedroll. Yron finished packing the Payleen, placing the stirrups over its shoulders. He climbed on before reaching down and lifting Brelyah and placing her behind him.

After a ten-minute ride, they came upon a large camp. As Yron rode up to the front edge of the camp, the two guards allowed him to pass.

"Lord Kimberlee is waiting for you. He said for us to bring you to him once you arrived," the sentry explained.

As far as the eyes could see, there were thousands of people working together in preparing to break camp. Horses and oxen were being connected to wagons, campfires were being put out, and scouts were being sent to the southeast.

From what Brelyah could see as she sat on the horse, the camp seemed to extend on for miles. The sentry mounted his horse and led Yron and Brelyah to a large tent near the front of the camp. Inside the tent, men sat around a table in heated discussion; however, the room went silent when the sentry announced Yron's arrival.

Lord Kimberlee turned toward Yron, "How far is Benflyn Dor?" he requested.

"I am not sure; it was a two days hard ride to get here, and the King said that Benflyn Dor was a few days' travel from where I left them," Yron replied. "I know he was sending the army after me to provide a defense for you, as you continue to Benflyn Dor. The army should be arriving from that direction." Yron pointed southeast.

"Thank you, that will be all for now," Lord Kimberlee said. "Now, get something to eat and get some rest. You deserve it."

Yron left the tent, but within a few strides, he realized he should have told Lord Kimberlee about his prisoner. Yron turned back, but as he approached the tent once more, the guards instructed him they had orders to let no one interrupt the meeting.

"Tell Lord Kimberlee I have some additional information in which he will be interested," Yron explained. "When he has time, please send for me."

"I will take you and your companion to get food and a place to rest," the sentry that greeted Yron as he left the tent explained.

Yron sat down to eat. It is so nice to have hot food again, he thought. Brelyah sat across from him eating without a care. Nothing that was going on around her seemed to distract her from the meal. Yron watched her; he had never seen a woman eat with her hands as his captive did. Suddenly, Brelyah looked up and caught Yron watching her.

"Are you going to turn me over to them? I mean, since I am your prisoner," Brelyah asked, twirling a lock of her hair around her delicate finger.

The question caught Yron by surprise. He didn't have an answer. He had planned to tell Lord Kimberlee about his prisoner, but now that he thought about it, he changed his mind. Yron was not experienced on these matters and wished Raaj was here, so he could talk with the wizard about all that was going on, including the cave.

Yron could tell she wasn't going to let the question go unanswered. "No," he said, taking a deep breath.

"Good," Brelyah sighed in relief.

After they had eaten, Yron found a quiet place to rest in the sun. Opening the bag of items he had brought from the cave, Yron emptied the objects onto the ground in front of him. He cast a Detect Magic spell on the items, but nothing happened. Well, nothing that he had ever seen before. Yron knew that magic essence was a part of everything, and it could be found everywhere, so if he cast a Detect Magic spell on anything, even prairie dirt, it would still give off a small glow, indicating there was some magic within the soil.

But there was nothing here. The prairie dirt, his pants, his shoes, and everything else showed the slightest hint of some magic, but the items from the cave had no indication of any magic whatsoever, except the feathers on the arrow shaft.

Reaching down, Yron picked up the blue tunic that had been worn by the man in the cavern, finding it to be as thin as silk and cold to the touch. On the back of the shirt, the stain from the blood was still caked on the outside, but the hole where the arrow had pierced it had completely disappeared. In fact, there was no indication whatsoever that there had ever been a hole. The same was true with the chainmail.

The metal of the chainmail had a lighter blue hue but still possessed the same coldness as the tunic. Unlike the chainmail that Yron was used to, this peculiar chainmail was almost as light as a summer shirt. The leggings were made from the same materials as the blue tunic. The sword and sheath had fine engravings on them. Upon closer inspection, the engravings appeared to be a script of some sort. They looked like some of the writings on the old scrolls, that Yron had watched Raaj study in the magical library hidden near the city of Hilmen.

In the middle on both sides of the sword and dagger, ran a dark blue ribbon of metal, and down the center of the blue ribbon was a white line running the full length of the blades, disappearing just as it reached the tip.

On the hilt of the sword and dagger, was carved the same crest Yron had seen on the shields in the cavern, but on the scabbards, a stream flowed out of the ponds. It started with the same dark blue of the pond in the cave, but it faded to a pure white as it reached the tip of the scabbard. The sword and scabbard were lighter than the sword that he carried in his pack. In fact, the sword was the same weight as his throwing knife but when he swung the sword, the momentum of the follow-through acted as though it was heavier than his sword. The dagger reacted in the same manner.

The belt buckle was made from the same metal as the weapons and had a matching crest, but the belt itself was made from tiny rings woven as though it was chainmail. Yron had never seen such tightly woven links. He dropped the belt buckle on top of the chainmail that sat at his feet. Picking up the arrowhead, Yron noticed a vast difference between the lightness of the metal which the chainmail and weapons were made of and the arrowhead which was very heavy for its size.

The edges of the arrow were sharper than anything he had ever seen. There were notches on the sides of the arrowhead, which appeared to be pressure notches that would hold the arrow shaft on the arrowhead. If someone tried to pull the arrow out of someone by pulling on the shaft, it would cause the arrow shaft to detach from the arrowhead. That explained why the arrow shaft had pulled out of the arrowhead so easily. The arrowhead lodged in a person would require the arrowhead to be carved out of the victim, leaving a wound that would take longer to heal.

Yron was concentrating so hard on what he was doing, that he didn't hear the guard approach. When the man finally spoke, it startled Yron, and he dropped the arrowhead. His initial reaction was to grab the tip, but remembering its sharpness, he allowed it to drop, landing on the chainmail. The guard told him that Lord Kimberlee wanted to talk.

"I will need to put these things away, and then I can be on my way," Yron replied.

Looking down, Yron noticed that the arrowhead had landed point down and penetrated the chainmail. Looking down at the chainmail, Yron decided that the weaponry and armor were ornamental and used solely for social events – they looked beautiful but had no real functionality. This would explain why the arrow had so easily penetrated the chainmail. Intrigued but unable to investigate further, Yron picked everything up and put the items back into his carrying bag.

As he was placing the chainmail back into the bag, he noticed the ring that had fallen from the dead soldier's hand. It was so small, that Yron knew if he didn't keep it in the carrying pouch at his side, he could easily lose it. After securing the ring, Yron looked around to make sure he had put everything else away.

The bag that Yron used to carry all the items from the cavern, unbeknown to him at the time, held many more weapons, armor, and items than what he had initially placed in it. He would need more time to sort through the items that were in the bag. He noticed that Brelyah was lying down near his gear and decided he would just let her sleep. As Yron stood up, he crumbled some dirt on top of his belongings. This would reveal to him if someone searched through his things while he was gone.

"He is waiting," the guard reminded Yron. Yron looked up. He hadn't noticed that the guard was standing there watching everything Yron had done. Embarrassed, he smiled at the guard.

"Lead on," Yron said sheepishly.

Gessim handed Havendar and Tarrie their new attire for the arena. It wasn't anything too special – standard issue chainmail – but the shirts and pants that went with it matched. There would be no mistake by those in the arena; Havendar and Tarrie were a team.

"Well, put it on," Gessim invited. Havendar looked at Tarrie and started to pull off his shirt. As Tarrie began to undress so that she could put on her arena clothing, Havendar turned, so his back was toward her. He knew others would watch her change, but she didn't need to have the additional embarrassment of him watching.

Once they had dressed, Gessim carefully inspected the two of them. Gessim decided that Havendar's shirt was too tight in the shoulders, so he had him remove it, telling the coach it would be ready in an hour, and he could come back and pick it up then.

"When you are picked up in the morning, you will need to be wearing this clothing," the coach explained to Havendar and Tarrie. "Tomorrow you will meet the arena, and the people of Terbate will meet you."

"Let's go," the guard ordered curtly. Havendar picked up his regular clothes and placed them under his arm. He didn't look back, but he knew Tarrie was following closely behind him.

When they arrived at their cell, a full dinner lay on the table. Havendar couldn't wait for the guard to close the door. He was hungry, and that steak had his name on it. Havendar wanted to sit in front of the larger steak but chose to allow Tarrie to have it instead. As he picked up his fork and knife, he expected Tarrie to stop him and allow him to have the bigger piece of meat, as any woman in Yemenor would, but she didn't.

This realization annoyed Havendar a little. He felt the least she could do was offer him the larger meal. Even though the tension had eased in the last few days, Havendar and Tarrie still ate in silence. When the Princess announced she was done and got up, leaving her portion of meat half eaten, Havendar had to bite his tongue not to say anything. He was still hungry after eating the last of the food on his plate but refused to embarrass himself by eating her leftovers.

The evening passed in silence. Deciding that he needed a good night's rest, he climbed into the bed next to Tarrie. He made sure he slept on the edge of the bed, however, so they didn't touch during the night. He didn't want her to think his anger had faded.

When Havendar awoke in the morning, Tarrie was already out of bed stretching. He always liked watching her, but he pretended to be asleep. Tarrie's back was to Havendar, when she finally spoke, "You know, you could see better if you didn't pretend to be asleep."

Havendar was caught – he didn't know what to do or say. His initial reaction was to groggily turn over and pretend he was asleep and hadn't heard her, but he knew she was too smart for that.

After a few moments of silence, Tarrie turned around and looking at Havendar said, "No really, it is okay with me if you want to watch."

"I was just trying to give you privacy," he responded awkwardly. To avoid her glance, Havendar got out of bed and started to put on his arena attire. His shirt was hanging through the hole in the door where they were normally served their food. Havendar had to admit that Gessim was right – the altered shirt now fit a lot better.

Havendar and Tarrie were dressed and waiting when the guard and their coach came to get them. They were placed in a wagon, and each arm was shackled and chained to the wagon sides. The wagon, not going in a direction Havendar recognized, traveled north out of the city then followed the city walls to the east. Finally, after thirty minutes of riding along the city wall, they came to a place where many wagons were parked.

Havendar could see many gladiators had been brought to the arena to fight. One by one, each fighter was registered at the gate. After they were checked in, they were given a number, and when they entered the gate, they were escorted to a holding pen that coincided with the number they were given. There were several people already in the holding pen when Havendar and Tarrie arrived at their designated holding cell.

Out in the arena, they could hear the crowd cheering. After a while, the cheering would erupt, then stop. Havendar could hear that someone would talk for a few minutes, a trumpet would sound, and then the crowd would erupt in cheers and applause again. Havendar tried to understand what the announcer was saying, but there was too much noise.

Several hours passed when, finally, three people were taken from the pen where Havendar and Tarrie were kept. Tarrie turned to Havendar. "How do you want to do this?" she asked. "Do you want to keep being my defender, or do you want me to fight on my own?"

"Does it matter?" he asked.

"It matters only depending on the strategy we want to use," Tarrie replied.

"The only strategy I want to use is winning," Havendar replied matter-of-factly.

"Here in the arena, the more popular you are, the better you are treated. The more intrigue, the more people will want to see you," Tarrie explained. "I think it would work to our advantage if you pretended to have to defend me because I was weak and helpless. I believe the crowd would find that very entertaining," she continued.

"How do you know so much about this?" Havendar asked.

"We can talk about that later," Tarrie replied curtly. "What do you want to do?"

"We can do it your way, but I want an explanation tonight," Havendar replied.

Two more teams were taken from the pen before Havendar and Tarrie's number was called. As they left the holding pen and were led into the arena, Havendar could see thousands of people sitting or standing around the fighting area. With a start, he realized there were more people here than were in the entire castle of Yemenor.

As Havendar stood looking around in awe, Tarrie called for him to come over and gather his weapons. He quickly approached the table, relishing the opportunity to once again wear his belt and place each of his knifes in its place.

The coach came over to talk to them. "Today you will be fighting three men from the Rantor camp. They have been arena fighters for just over three years. The only one you will need to watch is the one with the red helmet. He will feign an injury so that you will pay attention to one of the other fighters and then attack you from behind."

No longer needing to pretend he couldn't understand, Havendar nodded that he understood.

The trumpet sounded, and the coach left the field while the announcer set the scene for the fight. "From the north side of the arena and the Rantor camp, with a record of seventy-two wins, nine losses, and seven draws. On the south side of the arena, fighting for the Fyndar camp, a former Warteen ambassador and a ranger from Yemenor, making their debut appearance.

Across the arena, three men started to approach Havendar and Tarrie. Havendar kept the Princess close behind him. The three men started to spread out, with two men circling to Havendar's side. Havendar stood still; he would need them to make their move first. The man in the red helmet circled to his right while the other two men moved toward his left. It was hard for Havendar to keep all the men in his sight, so he had to keep switching his gaze back and forth.

As he turned his back to the man in red, Havendar heard Tarrie scream a warning to him. Pushing Tarrie back from him to protect her, Havendar ducked, rolled, and turned, as the man in the red helmet charged toward him. As he got up, Havendar pulled his throwing knife from the holster, hurling it at the red helmet man, as he turned to face him. The hilt of Havendar's knife hit the man in the throat, causing him to drop to his knees. Immediately, the whistle was blown.

The whistle sound indicated a kill. Havendar turned to check on Tarrie who had regained her balance and squared off to face the other men in the arena. Across the arena, the other two men continued to advance on Havendar and Tarrie. Havendar grabbed Tarrie's hand and guided her behind him, as he backed away from the advancing men, passing the man with the red helmet who was still lying on the ground. Tarrie played her part well, cowering behind Havendar, as he led her out of danger.

The approaching men had come within fifteen feet when Havendar was able to reach for his throwing knife. As he bent down to grab the knife, the two men charged. Havendar turned to face them, as he slid his weapon back in its holster. Suddenly, Havendar tripped over the red helmet man. When he tried to pull his leg back to regain his balance, he realized the man on the ground was holding his foot.

Havendar jumped forward, pulling his foot from the man's hands. In so doing, he lost his balance and rolled forward toward his opponents. The roll didn't help Havendar regain his balance, but it allowed him to get off to the side of the charging men. One of the men turned to engage Havendar; the other continued toward Tarrie.

The suddenness of Havendar's lunge caused the man attacking him to lose his balance. To catch his balance, Havendar's attacker placed his sword holding hand on the ground to the side of Havendar. Havendar reached up, grabbing the arm without the sword, and pulling it forward, causing his attacker to land face down on the ground. Havendar placed a knee in the middle of the man's back, pulling a knife he stabbed it in the ground next to the man.

When Havendar stood, the second whistle blew. Fearing the whistle had been blown on Tarrie, he looked to find her, Across the arena, Tarrie was attempting to block the opponents attacks with her weapon. The people in the stands erupted in cheers – they could sense that it was only a matter of seconds before the other man would break through Tarrie's off-balance, awkward defenses and defeat her.

Running toward Tarrie and the other man, Havendar pulled his throwing knife from the holster. Taking careful aim, he threw it at the last opponent. The hilt of the knife hit the man in the center of the back, knocking him forward. Tarrie pushed the fighter to the ground, as he stumbled past her. With that, the third whistle blew.

Turning toward Tarrie, Havendar raised his hands in victory. They had won their first fight.
Chapter 27

The men assigned to climb to the top of the plateau were within a few hundred feet of the summit. King Timon watched them climb, as he waited for the members of his War Council to arrive. It was important for them to find water on the plateau, and he wanted to be the first to hear any news. Before the climber could finish their assent, the members of the War Council were ready to meet.

"I just received a messenger from King Branack." King Timon started, "His army has been defeated, and his people are fleeing. What's left of his army is defending the rear flanks of his people, as they flee from their homeland. The report says there were attacked by armies from Warteen, Marlende, and Offendar.

"The messenger also reported that most of the other Kingdoms to the east side of the High Plains were either under siege or fleeing from advancing armies. Collectively, the kingdoms of the east have decided to rendezvous here to make a final stand.

"According to King Branack's report, the kingdoms surrounding the High Plains have united under King Rigrelm, his wizard, and their soothsayer. The soothsayer has claimed to have found a lost prophesy that foretells of a leader born in the High Plains that would lead their people to conquer the entire world, and it would require all the Kingdoms of Carbynarah to join forces to defeat him."

When King Timon finished speaking, the room was silent. Of course, everyone had heard the old prophecies about a leader rising out of the High Plains, but everyone knew that prophesy had been fulfilled during the Shadow Wars when almost one thousand years ago, all the kingdoms had joined to fight and defeat Lord Malkanard. Since that time, there had been relative peace throughout the land. Yes, there had been border disputes, but for the most part, the camaraderie that was developed during the time of the Shadow Wars had held the peace – until now.

"If this is true, we will need to prepare for more than just our people," King Timon uttered.

Suddenly, from outside the tent, King Timon could hear someone shouting, , "We have found water!"

King Timon and the rest of the men rushed out of the tent. Looking to the top of the plateau, they could see a man waving a torch and shouting, "We have found water!"

"That is good," King Timon said with a sigh of relief. "We know what we need to do," he continued, "and there is not enough daylight in a day to do it all."

Everyone understood what King Timon meant. No one waited around for pleasant goodbyes. King Timon called for his guards, and together they left for the forest that grew on the western side of the plateau. The trees needed to be cut down, and the wood transported to the top of the plateau, once the road to the top was repaired. Grabbing an axe, King Timon stopped at the first tree and started to chop down the large fir.

Sartura handed the message to Lord Myningar. After reviewing it, he folded the dispatch and placed it in his pocket.

"I will be back," he said.

Lord Myningar had barely walked out the door of the tent before he returned.

"You are coming with me," he said to Sartura. She began to protest but she had known Lord Myningar long enough to know she had no chance once he made up his mind.

Lord Myningar's walk was determined. It was so surprisingly different from the first time she saw him, as he was walking through the cheering crowds lining the streets in Yemenor. She remembered leaning from her balcony to see the champion from the games. Lord Myningar was the first swordsman from Yemenor to win the champion's wreath. He was so much younger then, but so was she. He was the talk of the court, so young and eligible. At six years of age, she had experienced her first crush on the handsome young Lord Myningar.

Lord Myningar had to wait at the entrance to King Holben's tent until he was announced. As he entered the tent, he waited for Sartura and followed her inside. He introduced her to King Holben, "This is Arutras, the people's champion from the last three games." The King greeted Arutras and turning to Lord Myningar said, "You have some of the finest young soldiers in Yemenor. Between your King's son, you, and this young Arutras, none of the rest of us have much of a chance of winning ribbons in the games. Well, at least in swordsmanship!"

With a smile, Lord Myningar accepted the King's praise but turned immediately to the matters at hand. "King Holben, I have just received orders to march toward Benflyn Dor," he gravely explained. "Our people are being driven from Yemenor and are retreating to find refuge," he continued. "King Timon needs as many men as he can get to provide a defense for the people until they can reach the plateau. At that point, defending the plateau against the armies of Shakarine will be our next assignment. The plan is to take refuge in the old stronghold of Benflyn Dor."

"Understood, and thank you for all you have done," the King replied.

"With the catapults mounted in the castle, will you need the catapults we have been using in the field?" Lord Myningar asked.

"No, they are yours if you want them," the King replied.

"Thank you. I believe our work is done here, and we will be leaving in the morning," Lord Myningar informed the King. "When our spies return, please tell them their King needs them to meet us at Benflyn Dor. If you do not mind, we will come back for the wounded we cannot take with us as soon as we can."

"May the Great One be with you," King Holben said.

"And with you," Myningar replied, as he bowed.

With that, Lord Myningar and Arutras left the King's tent. As they headed for Lord Myningar's tent, he ordered the trumpeter to sound a call for his officers. One by one, the officers arrived. Sartura sat in the back of the room, so she wouldn't be noticed.

Lord Myningar explained to his officers the King's orders. "The King wants us to rendezvous at Benflyn Dor. Shakarine and Warteen forces were preparing to attack the castle at Yemenor, and our people have abandoned the castle and are going to travel across the central prairie and head toward Benflyn Dor as well. The King has dispatched the majority of the army to intercept protect the citizens as they escape.

"We will need to get to Benflyn Dor as quickly as possible. When the army that has been sent to defend our people arrive at Benflyn Dor, they may be exhausted and in need of rest. We do not know, but it is possible they will have fought a defensive retreat all the way to the plateau. If they have, they will need fresh troops to give them a relief. King Timon is expecting us within four days hence. We should arrive during the night before the third day."

"Tell the men to pack tonight. We will be leaving before daybreak," Myningar ordered.

There were no questions asked. Each of the officers departed without saying a word. Lord Myningar called to Perkayn, asking him to wait, "I have specific instructions for you. In the morning, you will need to leave the horses from our fallen cavalry with us. We will be using them to pull the catapults. Meanwhile, I want you and your men to ride ahead to Benflyn Dor and provide King Timon with all the help and reinforcements you can. You will be riding two to a horse. Each one of you will carry an archer."

The new commander of the cavalry started to protest but was silenced with a gesture from Lord Myningar. "You will need to be there by noon the day after tomorrow," the Lord ordered.

As the young commander left the tent. Lord Myningar turned to Sartura, "I had hoped your sword would never have to taste blood, but I am afraid we will need everyone who can handle a sword," he apologized. She nodded in agreement.

"Roll your bed out over there and get some sleep. There will be enough for you to do in the morning," he added.

As she lay on her bedroll, Sartura could hear the commander of the cavalry making the preparations, as he had been ordered to do. She could hear the horses being saddled for an early start. Hmmm, she thought to herself, he is making all the preparations possible tonight. He is a thorough man. She must have drifted off, because the next thing Sartura heard was the thunder of hooves, as the cavalry departed the camp.

What? she thought in alarm; Why is he leaving tonight? As she started to get up, she heard Lord Myningar's voice. "Sleep! The cavalry decided to leave early. We will be following them in the next few hours."

As Lord Myningar left the tent, he looked back at Sartura to make sure she was not getting up. He needed to get the catapults ready to travel. Buckets of grease with brushes were placed above each wheel. The men who would be traveling with the catapults were taught how to grease the wheel axles while the catapults were moving. The wounded that were unable to walk but were not in serious condition were loaded onto the catapults. They would be riding to Benflyn Dor.

Sartura awoke when she heard the catapults riding through the camp. She figured it was time for her to get up, she quickly got ready, making sure her hair was tucked into her helmet. The last thing she needed was for her disguise to fail her. Lord Myningar caught her, as she was leaving the tent. "Good, I am glad you are awake. We will be leaving within the hour," he explained. "You will be traveling with the second garrison. You will be in charge. I know you have no experience, but the men know of you and will respect and follow you because of your reputation."

"They camp over there. Get them packed and into formation," the Lord concluded.

Sartura walked over to where the second garrison was camped. "Time to move out," she said. "Pack up and get into formation." With that said, Sartura went to get her horse. As she placed the saddle on her mount, she tried to remembered the lessons her father had taught her older brother, on gaining respect from the men he commanded. One of the lessons was to walk with your men don't ride above them.

Sartura grabbed the reins of her horse and walked it over to the Healer's camp. There, she found the man in charge of preparing the wounded soldiers to send with Lord Myningar. She handed the man her reins saying, "Here, use this horse to carry some of the wounded." As the man grabbed the horse's reins, he noticed the royal emblem on the reins. "Dis horse comes from the royal stables, we cannot use it," the man said.

"This horse was given to me so that I could deliver the King's message to Lord Myningar. You will use it, or I will be getting Lord Myningar to help you make that decision," Sartura stated.

"We don't be needin' to do dat, sir," he said quickly.

Sartura removed her pack from the horse and headed back to meet up with her men. As she walked through the camp, she heard one of the men complaining about getting up so early, asking what was so important to force them into a march the second day after a battle.

"All of you, gather around," she ordered. After a few minutes when everyone had gotten together, she continued. "Can everyone hear me?" She could hear them confirming that they could hear her. "You may want to know why we are preparing to march now and why the hurry."

The fire pit nearby provided enough light for her to see the men nod in agreement. "We march to save our families," she continued. "The Shakarine have driven them out of Yemenor. The army was unable to reach Yemenor before the Shakarine attacked it, so our people abandoned the castle and are fleeing toward Benflyn Dor."

"King Timon has decided that Benflyn Dor will be the best place to defend our people from the attacking Shakarine. Part of the King's army is marching to meet the fleeing citizens so that they can provide them cover from the rear. We are marching to Benflyn Dor to prepare a defense for our families when they arrive," she concluded.

"Now, will there be any more grumbling?" she asked.

"Arutras, we are ready. Let's march!" shouted one of the soldiers from the back.

"Let's march!" Sartura shouted.

Thrilled with her success in rallying the troops, she stepped off the log where she had been standing and led her men to the dispatch point. When she arrived, Lord Myningar was making the final preparations for the march. None of the other platoons were positioned in line, so Sartura and her garrison took the first position.

"Stay here," she ordered her garrison, as she walked up to where Lord Myningar was making his last-minute preparations. When he finally looked up, he saw Sartura standing at the entrance of the tent.

"Arutras, what can I do for you?" The men who had been discussing the marching plans with Lord Myningar all looked up to greet one of the greatest swordsmen in Yemenor. Looking around, Sartura asked him how far ahead the catapults were.

"Four or five hours," Lord Myningar replied.

"We will be sending the first garrison that is ready on a double-time march to catch up with them and provide defense for them as they head toward Benflyn Dor," Lord Myningar explained. As soon as he spoke the words, he regretted them, as he realized that Sartura's presence meant her garrison was the first garrison ready and were already in line, thus, would be the garrison marching to protect the catapults. Myningar wanted to keep Sartura and her garrison out of this danger, but now it was too late.

Sartura nodded her head, "Good. We are leaving now then," she explained. Lord Myningar looked up and saw her garrison standing in formation at the edge of the camp, confirming his fear. Before he could say a word, the Princess had turned and was marching down the embankment toward her men. His instinct was to order her to leave second; however, doing so would jeopardize her reputation, additionally, there was something innately wrong about ordering the King's daughter to do anything.

He stood there, knowing there was nothing he could do, as she ordered her men to march out of the camp. Turning toward his War Council, he asked. "Do you think we should send a second garrison to protect the catapults?" No one answered. Lord Myningar looked around. It didn't appear as though any other garrison was ready to march. There was nothing he could do.

With the new orders from the King, Lord Kimberlee gave the command to break camp. He requested that the King's messenger report to the command tent. Upon the arrival of the messenger, Lord Kimberlee asked him to ride with him and help lead the people toward Benflyn Dor. Yron explained that he had a traveling companion, and the companion would need a new horse. Lord Kimberlee made the arrangements.

"We will be leaving here within the hour. Gather your belongings, and meet me back here as soon as you can," Lord Kimberlee ordered.

Yron immediately returned to Brelyah. "You will be given a horse and will be riding with me. I have decided not to turn you over as a prisoner, for now. You are expected to act as my traveling companion."

Brelyah nodded, flashing a grateful smile at Yron. She enjoyed traveling with him and was especially relieved that she no longer had to ride double on Yron's horse. Yron and Brelyah packed immediately and walked back to where Lord Kimberlee indicated they would meet. A few minutes after they arrived, one of the sentries brought Brelyah a horse, complete with saddle and gear. Brelyah placed her pack on the mount and climbed into the saddle. Initially, the horse tried to act up, but Brelyah was trained in horsemanship and had the horse under control.

Yron held out the water bag so Tristina could finish drinking. Then, placing the bag in his pack, he dropped the stirrups across her shoulders and climbed onto the Payleen. While they sat waiting for Lord Kimberlee, Tristina wandered under the shade of one of the large white oak trees and started to eat the tall, sweet grass that was growing near the trunk.

Trumpets started to sound all over camp, and before long, the lead wagons were moving out across the plains. It took several more minutes before Lord Kimberlee came riding up. He had several men with him. "Messenger, ride with us at the lead of this column," he said to Yron. "We expect you to guide us toward Benflyn Dor to meet the King's army."

For the rest of the day, Yron, Brelyah, Lord Kimberlee, and his men rode at the head of the column. About an hour before dusk, Lord Kimberlee halted the column and ordered the lead wagons to begin preparing for dinner. He pointed to a place near where he had ordered the kitchen wagons to stop and said, "That is where we will set up the command tent."

Turning to Yron, he said, "Messenger, you can place your tent next to the command tent. This is where we will spend the night."

Yron removed the stirrups and his pack from Tristina's back. He walked over to the nearby kitchen wagon where he filled Tristina's water bag and held it for her as she drank. After she had her fill of water, he began to set up camp. He removed all the rocks and sticks so he could sleep comfortably, then rolled out his bedroll.

It was only after he had finished taking care of Tristina, that Yron realized Brelyah didn't have a clue about what to do with her horse. While she was a good rider, she had obviously never been responsible for the care of her mount. Interesting, he thought, this girl is weird. Just about the time he was going to give in and help her, one of the sentries came by and announced he would take the horses to care for them. Brelyah was obviously relieved. Yron explained to the sentry that he had already taken care of his horse and there was no need for him to do anything for Tristina.

Grabbing the reins of Brelyah's horse, the sentry led it away. As he did so, Yron sat down on his bedroll and pulled out one of the rings he had placed in his pouch that morning. This was the first time he had been alone to study it all day.

The ring was a deep blue color with a white stripe in the center. As Yron looked at the ring, he was surprised to see just how white and unsoiled it was. Looking around, he began his chant and stealthily cast another Detect Magic spell on the ring. Still nothing. The result puzzled Yron. It was as though the spell seemed to affect everything but the ring.

Holding out his hand, he slid the ring over his finger. Again nothing. Just then, Lord Kimberlee approached, as Yron hastily jerked his gaze away from the ring. "There is some food prepared if you are ready to eat," the Lord said slowly, perplexed at Yron's sudden movement. Raising an eyebrow, the Lord looked down at Yron's ring. "Interesting ring. I did not notice you wearing it earlier," he commented.

Yron looked at the ring and then back to Lord Kimberlee. "It was in my pouch," Yron stated blandly.

Closing the matter, the two – with Brelyah in tow – headed toward the kitchen wagons. At dinner, the War Council discussed the incidents of the day. Lord Kimberlee was sure the Shakarine weren't close enough to catch up with the column but still had concerns about the whereabouts of the Warteen army. He decided it was better to be safe than sorry, and he needed to ensure the scouts had their eye out for both armies.

Turning to one of the other men, Lord Kimberlee ordered him to ready and send out two sets of rearguard scouts, then rotate a third set through every twelve hours. The rest of dinner was uneventful. When they finished eating the stew that had been prepared, Yron wiped his bowl clean with a piece of bread torn from one of the loaves sitting in the middle of the table.

"With luck, we will meet up with the King's army tomorrow," Lord Kimberlee said hopefully. Yron didn't want to disagree with him, but he guessed they wouldn't meet until sometime in the afternoon two days from now– three or four days longer than Lord Kimberlee expected.

As Yron lay down after dinner, he began to worry about Raaj. He knew the Master Wizard had stayed back at the castle to provide as much time as possible for the citizens of Yemenor to escape; Yron had a lot to talk to him about. Plus, Raaj had all the equipment he needed to prepare the Inset box. Yron kept thinking about the Inset spell and all the unknowns surrounding what they were attempting to do.

Only a few feet away, Brelyah had already fallen asleep. Yron wanted to follow suit, but his mind was too abuzz with thoughts of the Inset spell to let him sleep, so Yron began thinking of new ways to cast the spell. Perhaps there was a way for the spell to be cast without the current requirements. After all, legend had it that in ancient times, any individual could cast the Inset spell on himself and transfer his essence to be to an item just before his death.

Yron was just about asleep when he heard a noise off to his left. Before he could flip the bed cover off and roll out of the way, something came running from out of the tall grass and jumped on him. Yron could tell it was an animal, as he grabbed it and tried to roll on top of it. Yron reached for his knife, but it was pinned between his hip and the ground. When he attempted to roll off his side so that he could grab the knife, the animal started to lick his face.

"Darn it, Ky, you scared the heck out of me!" Yron laughed. The next few minutes were the happiest time of the last few weeks. Sitting on his bedding, he petted and held his Familiar. He had missed his dear friend. The separation had been hard, and the only way Yron could deal with it was to put it out of his mind. But tonight, all was well. Yron felt his world was finally in order.

Exhausted, Yron finally lay back on his bedroll. Lying next to him with his head on Yron's shoulder, was Ky. The stars were clear tonight. His thumb rested on the ring he had found. Lifting his hand to look at the ring, he noticed it was almost impossible to see. In fact, if he didn't know it was there, it would have been to see it.

Looking out the window, Darmuth turned to Raaj, "What if we put leather bags filled with oil hanging from the tree branches in the forest. If the Shakarine enter the forest to sneak up on the castle, the archers could shoot fire arrows into the trees until the forest is engulfed in flames."

Raaj set down the box he was working on. Darmuth could tell Raaj was pondering the suggestion. After a few minutes, the wizard got up and walked to the window, looking at the forest that stretched out away from the castle. "It could work... It could just work," Raaj muttered. Placing his hand on Darmuth's head, Raaj ruffled his hair, "Good job, son," Raaj commented.

"Tomorrow, you will head up that effort. How many men will you need?" Raaj inquired.

"I shouldn't need more than fifteen or twenty," Darmuth responded.

Make the request from Lord Jayjar in the morning. If you have any problems, come and get me," Raaj concluded.

The next morning, the door to the room closing awoke Raaj from his sleep. Darmuth was dressed and had already left for the morning. Raaj quickly got dressed and headed out after the Prince. As Raaj climbed down the last flight of stairs that opened into the castle courtyard, he could see that Darmuth had four men helping him carry leather skins from the castle kitchen. The other men were filling the skins with oil, and two others were loading the oil-filled skins into the wagon.

Two ladders were tied to the sides of the wagon, and four men were sitting in the back, cutting rope into five-foot lengths. From what Raaj was seeing, Darmuth had everything under control.

In the kitchen, Raaj could smell the beginnings of breakfast. It wouldn't be long before the trumpeters were signaling for the men to get up and begin the day. The wizard opened the small door next to the front gate and walked out into the early morning sun.

On top of the spire, Abinya was perched, looking over the lands that lead up to the castle. Even though Raaj didn't expect the attacking armies to be approaching, it was nice to know they were not yet preparing to siege the castle.

Raaj hadn't been able to gather any additional information from the spies they had captured two nights ago. He still believed the castle wouldn't be attacked for at least another week. That should be enough time for the Queen and her subjects to be far enough out of the way so that the Warteen coming from the south wouldn't intercept them.

Raaj worked with the trenching crews for the rest of the day. Every three or four hours, he would ask his Familiar to fly over the forest where Darmuth was working, just to make sure the Prince was safe.

By the end of the day, Raaj estimated they were two days away from finishing all the trenching he had planned. Raaj signaled for the trumpeters to sound end-of-day when he saw Darmuth heading back toward the castle with the wagons. Tomorrow, he thought to himself, I will ride over and see how Darmuth is doing.

By nightfall, all the men had returned to the castle. After dinner, Raaj instructed the kitchen staff to roll out one of the barrels of ale and set it up for everyone to have some much-deserved refreshments.

For the rest of the night, there was laughter and singing. This made Raaj smile. The men need to blow off some steam, he thought to himself. These are good men. They are the last to leave the castle, and they will be facing three armies converging on the castle to destroy and kill all that was there, yet they work and prepare for the attack without desperation or fear. From what Raaj could tell, not a single soldier had fled the castle.

Raaj left the merry-making in the courtyard and retired to his room. He figured Darmuth would follow him shortly. In the meantime, he committed to finishing the Inset box that Yron hadn't been able to complete.

It was late when Darmuth entered the room. Raaj was meditating, so the room was dark when the Prince entered. He watched to see what the young man would do and was glad to see that if Darmuth had partaken of the ale, he hadn't lost his ability to function; it was as though he were completely sober.

Darmuth was preparing to lay down when Raaj asked, "Are you planning on doing your exercises today?"

Drawing his sword, Darmuth spun around and pointed the tip toward the voice. Before he had completed his turn, he realized the voice was Raaj. Dropping the sword point he re-sheathing it, "Not tonight. I am tired, and it is late."Darmuth replied.

Raaj was going to protest but decided not to. Darmuth climbed into his bed while Raaj continued with his meditation.

# Chapter 28

Havendar was surprised at how excited he felt about winning the arena battle. Turning to Tarrie, he placed his arm around her shoulder hugged her. In response, Tarrie grabbed Havendar by the hand and raised their hands into the air. The victorious duo walked proudly from the arena.

When they arrived at the gate of the arena, they were greeted by their coach and a guard that relieved them of their weapons. Slapping them on their backs, their coach guided them away from the holding cells and into a room that had food-laden tables and the other arena winners. One of the walls of the room had a window so that the daily arena winners could watch the remaining battles.

After eating his first plate of food, Havendar spent most of the day watching the other gladiators fight. He was surprised to see that a great majority of the arena fights ended with someone seriously wounded. He wanted to ask their coach about this, because their earlier training taught them to focus on winning the fight without causing injury to the opponent. Havendar wanted Tarrie to watch and learn from the arena fighting that was going on; however, instead of learning with Havendar, she spent the day resting and talking with the other arena participants.

The battles among participants in the arena were still going on when the door opened and several guards entered the room. One of the guards selected several fighters and escorted them from the room. As soon as they left, Havendar turned toward Tarrie and asked her, in her native tongue, if she knew what was happening. Tarrie shook her head signaling 'no.'

Havendar looked around the room. No one seemed concerned about what had happened, so he returned to watching the fights. The sun was beginning to set below the top of the arena. As it did, Havendar noticed some of the more experienced fighters were using the shadows to their benefit. They would force their opponents to face them so that the sun was shining in their eyes. This gave them a significant advantage. Another useful trick he saw the more experienced arena fighters use; stand upwind of their opponents to allow the dust created from them moving their feet to blow into their opponents' eyes.

Havendar could see that the better fighters were saved until the end of the day. After the main attraction was announced, the crowd stood on their feet. Havendar could hear the crowds cheering. He strained to see what was happening in the arena, but as far as he could tell, it was empty. As the crowd cheered, he could hear there was a rhythm to what they were doing.

The longer the cheering went, the more pronounced the rhythm became. Stomp... stomp... clap... clap ... stomp... stomp... clap... clap... Initially, the rhythm started slowly but with each cycle, the rhythm sped up until it was impossible to differentiate between stomping and clapping.

After a few moments, the crowd erupted in cheering. As Havendar looked across the arena, one fighter appeared out of each door. All told, it seemed to Havendar that there were twenty or thirty fighters standing around the perimeter. As the crowds, noise died down, a giant gong sounded from the top of the arena. In a sudden response to the noise, the men in the arena started to fight each other.

Havendar recognized several of the fighters as those who had spent the afternoon with them in the food pen. Within moments, he also realized that this was a free-for-all, and the last man standing would be the winner. It took nearly thirty minutes to whittle down the battle to two men. The pair circled each other – these men were fighting for victory, and from the way they were swinging their swords, Havendar knew that whoever lost would either die or be severely injured.

As the eventual winner drove the other fighter back with a fierce sword attack, he faked an overhead attack and spun at the last second, slapping the other warrior with the side of his sword high on his back, driving him to the ground. The victor's move was one of the best sword strikes Havendar had seen today. He was glad he was standing behind the partition and not on the field fighting.

The crowd erupted in cheers. The victor raised his hands and walked around the arena while the audience threw flowers at his feet. Havendar recognized the man, as he passed by the opening of the cells. He was one of the fighters selected by the guards.

Havendar was still thinking about the arena fighter when the guards came to load him into the wagon. He rode in silence, as they returned to their training camp. He was struggling with feelings of wanting to be the best warrior in the arena while facing the glum reality that he was a slave in the arena games. This desire to win didn't lessen Havendar's desire to escape, but it did make his enslavement slightly more tolerable.

As the wagon stopped in front of their cell, Havendar and Tarrie climbed out of the wagon and entered the cell. It was late, and there was no food sitting on the table. Tarrie was the first to break the silence barrier. "Well, we won," she said.

"Yes," Havendar replied, "but we were not the best fighters out there. If we are going to keep on winning, we will need to learn how to succeed by watching the others fight."

"Or you can learn about the arena and what lies ahead by talking to those who have been fighting in the arena for a while," Tarrie responded deliberately.

Havendar had to admit she had a point. It would be good to know what to expect going forward. Normally, he would have argued his point until Tarrie had given up in frustration, but today, he was not in a mood to verbally spar with her. He was confused by what he had seen after they finished their fight. As they were walking back with their coach toward the room with all the food, Havendar saw something in the stands. One of the people in the cheering crowd wore the emblem of a Ranger Guild on his shirt collar.

The person was sitting off to the side of the arena above the food cell, Havendar was unable to see how long the ranger stayed in the arena or confirm if indeed the person was a ranger. Havendar decided that, at present, he wouldn't share what he had seen with Tarrie. The next time he fought in the arena, though, Havendar would make sure his shirt sleeves were out of the way so if the individual he had seen were indeed a ranger, they would recognize that Havendar was a ranger as well.

Lord Kimberlee anxiously watched for King Timon's troops all day and into the night. As they finished the second night, Lord Kimberlee called for Yron.

"I thought you said that you rode two days to reach us," Kimberlee said.

"I did," Yron replied.

"Didn't you say the troops King Timon was sending left immediately after you?"

"That is correct," Yron responded.

"Then why haven't we caught up with the army yet?" Lord Kimberlee concluded.

Yron didn't want to reveal anything more than he had to. "Perhaps I rode faster or longer than you expected," Yron answered.

Lord Kimberlee nodded. "Perhaps," he thought out loud. Lord Kimberlee wanted to ask Yron more questions, but he was afraid the questions would offend Yron, and Lord Kimberlee didn't know the relationship the messenger had with the King. After all, it was apparent Yron was not a Yemenite.

One of the questions he wanted to ask Yron was if the King ordered him to deliver the message as fast as he could, why did he ride with two people on one horse? No matter how he figured it, something about the messenger didn't make sense.

After dinner, Yron took some time to play with Ky. In the open field, Yron chased his Familiar around and around, until he was so tired he couldn't run anymore. Finally, when he sat down, Ky ran up and pounced on him. They wrestled for several minutes before Yron decided it was time to head back to camp. He knew Brelyah would be looking for him. By now, she probably had set up camp.

It was Ky who found Brelyah. She had set out her bedroll near where Tristina was grazing. Yron watched as Brelyah ran her fingers through her red hair, as she stared across the prairie at the horizon, seemingly deep in thought. Nearby, Yron found a place to set up his bedroll. He was glad she had picked a place a slight distance away from the main camp.

He wanted time alone, so he could study the items he had taken from the man in the cave. Yron would have preferred time in the daylight to look at the items, so he could more closely study them. It was difficult to see the details that could tell him more about each item by moonlight without a campfire. Even though Yron didn't like it, he understood it was due to safety concerns, that they were not allowed to have fires.

After an hour of studying the items, Yron gave up, realizing it was of no use. There was no way he could see the inscribing on the weapons, let alone the symbols, and the details of the images. There was something about the blue shirt and leggings that had him curious, but until he could spend time studying them without fear of interruption, his curiosity would have to wait. With this realization, Yron placed the items back in his pack and lay down on his bedroll.

Brelyah sat quietly all evening. She hadn't talked much during the day, as they rode, either. This was unusual for her, and it was, driving him nuts. He would never admit it to her, but he kind of liked listening to her talk. Finally, Yron broke the silence. "What is wrong?" he asked.

Brelyah didn't answer. After a few minutes, she reluctantly replied. "You are a wizard without an apprentice. I want to be your apprentice, and I am afraid that if I pester you too much, you will never give me that chance."

Yron didn't know what to say. An apprentice? he thought, confused. He hadn't even passed his final exams. For him to be prepared to have an apprentice, would still require years of training. Despite the impossibility of the idea, he smiled. It was nice to think she wanted to be his maiggii.

There was so much for him to learn before he could even consider such a request. After all, Raaj hadn't even started to teach him some of the more advanced spells... like... like... invisibility. Heck, he didn't even have his fire elemental for forging yet.

Finally, it was Yron's turn to talk. Confessing, he said, "I don't know enough to have an apprentice. It will take years before I do."

"That's okay, I will wait," Brelyah replied.

After several minutes of silence, Brelyah repeated herself. "Really, Yron, I will wait."

"Perhaps we can talk about it when we meet up with Grand Master Raajanaar," Yron suggested slowly.

"So, you would consider it?" she asked, flashing one of her lovely smiles at him.

"If, or when, the time comes, I would consider it. No promises though," Yron responded quickly.

Yron closed his eyes. I wonder how you would go about casting an Invisibility spell or Detect Invisibility. Yron had heard of those spells but had never seen them cast. As he lay in the darkness, he thought about what it would take to learn such a spell. First, he would need to know the cadence of the chant to such a spell; then, the words, and then,... he didn't have a clue. As he rolled over to lay on his side, the thought that Brelyah wanted to be his apprentice made him feel good, and a smile crept across his face. Eventually, his thoughts returned to the spell of invisibility.

Chopping trees was relaxing for King Timon, there was something about hard labor that reduced his stress. As he worked, his mind cleared, and he could recognize the things that needed doing. He knew the first thing he needed to do when he got back to camp was to send out scouts.

The good news was there wouldn't be much need for scouting parties because the only entrance to Benflyn Dor was through Tamar Wayne, which could be watched from the top of the plateau. Only the prairie that spread out beyond Tamar Wayne that couldn't be seen by the outpost on Benflyn Dor would need to have scouts with horses watching for an advancing army or attempting to capture spies. Catching spies is difficult, King Timon knew, so he increased the number his scouts to increase his chances of catching an enemy spy.

In the morning, he would send a crew of men on top of the plateau to install a sewage waste management system. He knew that while the people of Yemenor were under siege, they had to have some way to keep the fresh drinking water away from the waste; not just for the people, but for the animals as well.

Morning came much too early as far as King Timon was concerned. It seemed that he had just closed his eyes when he felt the morning sun warming his face. Before he arose, the King thought about the list of things needed to be done that he had thought of before falling asleep. There needed to be livestock pens, and the ground had to be tilled to plant seeds for food. There was no way of knowing how long they would be under siege.

Materials needed to be secured to build catapults, and they would need to gather ammunition for them. Lookout towers needed to be built to support the scouts who would be riding across the prairie searching for approaching armies and their scouts, as well as warn the population on the plateau should the enemy be spotted. Defensive positions needed to be built at the entrance.

King Timon looked at the rock road with the switchbacks that scaled the five-hundred-foot rock face leading to the top of the plateau. He realized that once the road was rebuilt, those places where the original rock road had deteriorated and fallen, drawbridges could be built to stop an enemy's army easy access to the top. He would get his engineers to start working on that.

At the morning meeting of his War Council, the scouts reported on conditions at the top of the plateau. There was so much work that needed to be done at the summit that King Timon decided it was more important to repair the road than do the preparations on top of the plateau. Consequently, he disbanded the crews that were cutting the forest away from the base of the mountain and sent them to take care of the immediate needs of repairing the road.

He didn't want to inundate everyone with his list of things that would need to be done, so King Timon simply outlined what needed to be completed over the next three days. If his calculations were right, the people from Yemenor would be arriving in five days. If they were lucky, they would have the time to get everyone on top of the plateau before any attack ensued.

It was time to move his camp to the top of the plateau. Rebuilding the road became the number one priority, and securing the water system was number two. As everyone left the War Council, King Timon knew he needed to inspect the work being done on the road repair. Additionally, he needed to see firsthand what conditions were like on top of the plateau.

The King worked his way up the road; he could see it was going to be difficult for the catapults that he had brought, along with the larger wagons, to make the turns on the switchbacks. When the people with their supplies arrived from Yemenor, they would have to transfer the supplies from the larger wagons to the smaller wagons. Perhaps they could build a lift and use ropes and pulleys to lift the larger wagons from the prairie floor to the top of the plateau. He was sure they would need the larger wagons to transport things once they reached the top.

They needed more catapults, which would need to be built on top of the plateau. The lifts they built for the larger wagons would need to be strong enough to lift the catapults too. They needed to find ammunition on top of the plateau; dragging ammunition from the prairie floor would be time-consuming and use valuable resources that would be needed to move other supplies.

While King Timon climbed up to the plateau, he recalled the War Council discussion earlier. He felt a little funny calling it a War Council since the group had nothing to do with war, rather only decisions for the day's work. Regardless of the name, King Timon was grateful to be surrounded by such intelligent men.

Arriving at the base of the road that led to the plateau, Lord Og and the engineers were in a heated discussion. The big issue was how they would span the two hundred and fifty feet of road that led to the top of the plateau which, over time, had collapsed. Cutting a new road could take a year or more, at best. The engineers didn't have a solution other than build lifts and hoist everything to the top of the plateau.

In time, they would be able to cut away the rock and make a new access road deeper into the face of the cliff, but right now, this was not an option. The people from Yemenor would be arriving in days, and immediately after them, the people that were fleeing from Branack would arrive. His army would need to defend Tamar Wayne until everyone and everything could be lifted to the top of the plateau.

They were out of time, and the engineers needed to be sent to the top of the plateau to start building the lifts needed to bring the supplies, catapults, wagons, animals, and people to the top. While the engineers were building the necessary lifts, the rest of the army needed to build defensive barriers to protect Tamar Wayne, thus, giving time for everyone to reach the top of the plateau if the enemy attacked.

King Timon postponed his plans to go to the top of the plateau; he feared he would only get in the way. The men on top of the plateau were being directed to lower ropes down so the engineers and their laborers could be lifted. Once the engineers reached the top, they would need to find the materials to build the lifts from the plateau itself. Trying to drag the resources needed to build the lifts to the top of the plateau from the prairie floor would be too difficult.

The news that the access road to the plateau was inoperable would change the plans, and the King needed to reconvene the War Council to explain the change. The meeting of the War Council was short. Defenses needed to be constructed, the lifts needed to be built, and after the King gave his orders, the officers immediately left and went about building their defenses.

By mid-afternoon, the King was lifted to the top of the plateau. The plateau was larger than he ever imagined. He could see the mountains to the south, but it looked to him like the flat top of the plateau ran directly into the southern mountain range. It had to be at least one hundred miles to the southern edge. To the west, the forest prevented him from seeing the edge.

Once King Timon arrived, Lord Og began to explain to him how they were going to build the lifts. There were going to be eight lifts total, four on each side of the switchbacks. They would pick up their load from the turns at each switchback and be lifted all the way to the top of the plateau.

Lifting from the switchbacks would allow for shorter lifts. As the engineers laid out the plans, they explained that each switchback would be filled with wagons or people prepared to be lifted. Once the wagon from the switchback was lifted, the next wagon would move forward, thus, keeping the switchbacks constantly full.

The engineers were instructed to build a lift that would allow them to bring three or four men to the top of the plateau at once; increasing the number of men working on the plateau. They would then cut down trees and construct the remaining lifts. Later, the engineers would build lifts that would allow them to lift the draft horses.

They would need fifteen to twenty men working as a team to lift each draft horse until they had a team of draft horses on the plateau that could lift the remaining horses. Once they had enough draft horses on the plateau, they would build the real lifts and platforms that would do the heavy lifting.

The King understood and agreed with what the engineers were doing.

"Lord Og, I am putting you in charge of the operations on the plateau. For now, come with me," the King ordered.

King Timon didn't need to look over the engineers' shoulders, so he left to inspect the water wells. Scattered across the entire area, were foundations of structures that had long ago rotted away; however, it appeared that the inhabitants of the Shadow Wars had everything planned very well. The King decided he needed to study what they had built and, instead of redesigning everything, they needed to repair and use what they had and, if needed, expand upon it.

King Timon was surprised at how shallow the wells were. Alongside each well was a rock structure that once held water. Apparently, people had manned the wells constantly, drawing bucket after bucket of water up to the surface, then dumping it into the vessels alongside the well.

"We need these water basins repaired. Get some water buckets up here with some ropes and fill these basins as soon as possible. We will have horses here soon. When the engineers become available, have them look at these wells to see if they can find a way to make the drawing of water, less reliant on manpower," Lord Og described.

As Lord Og departed, the King continued his inspection of the water systems. He noticed some of the water wells still had basins with deteriorated troughs that once supported the irrigation and watering systems. In other locations, troughs came out of the water basin and ran for up to several hundred feet before emptying into a large pool. It was only after he saw the remnants of a fence that he realized these wells were to provide water to the animals.

King Timon could see that the water system stretched out across the prairie on the top of the plateau. There was no need for him to inspect all the wells. He had spotted a structure alongside the forest he wanted to inspect before it got too late. On his way to the structure, King Timon walked along the plateau edge and examined the cliff edges. From what he could see, everything seemed just as his father had told him when he was young, with the exception that some of the rock had broken off from the cliff's edge, creating a pile of rock at its base.

In the morning, King Timon would send scouts around the perimeter of the plateau to survey the entire rim. He didn't want any surprise flank attacks coming from an area where the enemy could easily traverse the cliff walls. Leaving the inspection of the rim, King Timon headed to inspect the old structure when one of the scouts sounded an alarm.

The scout who sounding the alarm was about three miles away to the southeast. King Timon removed his armor and dropped it, along with everything else he was carrying, so he could run faster toward where the alarm had been sounded. He wanted to see for himself the reason for the alarm.

As the King ran to the cliff, he could hear the alarm repeated to the army at the base of the cliff. It took over half an hour for him to arrive to the site of the alarm. Indeed, about twenty miles in the distance, an army was on the move. The lack of wind made it so that the dust columns, from the approaching army, reached high into the sky.

The column was long. King Timon was unable to determine how long because the dust rising from the front edge of the approaching army was impeding their ability to see. Regardless, King Timon knew that without proper defenses built, his army wouldn't last very long against a well-prepared and well-equipped army. Perhaps, he hoped, they will pass by without noticing us.

"Pass the word," King Timon ordered, "No fires. No smoke. And stop the sounding of the alarm. We do not want any evidence indicating to the approaching army that we are here." Seeing their nods, King Timon added, "Send scouts to make sure they do not head northwest toward Yemenor."

The messengers left. Turning to the original scout, King Timon further instructed, "I need you to keep your eye on the approaching army. I will be sending you several messengers, and I want a report every hour. They will return to you after they have delivered their report," King Timon instructed as he left for Tamar Wayne. The most important thing he could think of doing now was to get down from the plateau and help with the defensive plans for the army.

When King Timon arrived at the cliff that overlooked Tamar Wayne, he was surprised to see a lift already in operation. He stood on the rim and waited to watch the engineering crew bring one of the horses up to the top of the cliff before taking his ride down.

"We have had a change of plans," the King explained to the lift operator, as he was being lowered to the prairie floor. "You can only operate the lift until it is dusk. We cannot afford to light fires allowing you to work through the night."

Sartura, still disguised as Arutras, didn't waste any time. She marched to the front of her garrison and explained they were moving out. "We are to double-time march and catch up with the catapults," she ordered. With that, she ordered them forward. If she was going to lead these men, she knew she needed to do it from the front.

After the first hour of marching, Sartura ordered the men to halt. She remembered her father once said an army double-time marching needed to stop for five-minute water breaks every hour if they were going to be any good at the end of a march.

While it seemed longer, it was just yesterday that she had passed this way with the message for Lord Myningar. She remembered there was a stream about another hour-and-a-half ahead. They would march to the stream before they took their next break. They would take a longer break, filling their water flasks and eating, before moving on to catch up to the catapults.

It took less time to get to the small stream than Sartura had expected. Her legs were beginning to get weary – perhaps the pace she was setting was too fast. The cool water from the stream was refreshing. She watched as the men dumped the stale water out of their water bags and refilled them with the cool stream water. As she sat on one of the rocks near the stream's edge, one of the men from the garrison approached her.

"Arutras, many of us saw you fight at the last games, and we're honored that you lead this garrison. Being the lead garrison on any march is a great honor. Thank you for giving us this opportunity," the young soldier spoke. "We want to let you know we will not let you down. We are willing to march until we catch up with the catapults. You do not need to take time to rest."

With that, the young soldier shouted, "Formation! Prepare to march!" Sartura was surprised but impressed by the young man's initiative. Slipping her water pouch over her shoulder and the remaining loaf of bread into her pack, Sartura looked over her shoulder and shouted, "March!"

Raaj watched as Darmuth hung the remainder of the skins filled with lantern oil from the trees. In addition to the skins, the Prince had hung hammocks that he had also filled with tar. Looking out over the fields, Raaj could see that the trenches were almost finished. Around the castle, everything seemed to be in order. Unless someone came up with another idea on how to prepare further for the oncoming armies, there were no additional preparations that could be made.

In the evening when everyone gathered for supper, Raaj challenged the remaining troops to come up with additional defensive ideas. When no one spoke up, Raaj was disappointed. He had been hopeful someone could think of other things that could be done. Finally, one of the men stood. "There are a lot of weapons in the armory. We probably should destroy them." Another suggested they destroyed the catapults before they left.

"We should bury all the gold and valuables we leave behind," another said.

"I know this won't help with the defense, but if there is a way we could hide the graveyard so no one can disrupt our families who have passed on, that might be good, too," replied one of the men sitting next to Darmuth.

"If we could hide the escape entrance, perhaps we could use it if we ever found a way to try to retake the castle," another added.

Even though there were very few ideas that would help them defend the castle, the ideas the men came up with would provide them with something to do other than sitting and waiting for the approaching armies. Perhaps the best idea came from one of the young laborers who had stayed with the castle. He suggested digging holes around the castle that either a man or horse would step in if they charged the castle. If the holes were deep enough, this could either break a leg or slow them down enough for one of the archers to take them out.

"I need someone to watch for the scouts tonight," Raaj requested. He was beginning to be frustrated that there was no word from any of the scouts. The first set of reports should have been back by now, he thought. Looking at all the young soldiers sitting around the tables eating, reminded him of his young maiggii. It was then he realized just how much he missed Yron. Yron was always a great problem solver. Tonight, he would have given four or five ideas that they could use as defensive measures, which would slow down the advancing armies.

He wished he had paid more attention to the ingenious Controlled Illusion spell Yron had developed last year, which would have allowed him to control each illusion individually, rather than having the illusions act in unison with each other.

Yron had developed the spell as a practical joke to make Raaj think there was something hiding in his hut. It took Raaj two weeks to realize what he was seeing occasionally at night was an illusion that Yron had been controlling from outside the house. By using a Seeing Eye, Yron could see what Raaj was working on in the house; then he created an illusion that moved and hid from shadow to shadow as it scampered around the house.

Raaj had been so mad at Yron for making him feel foolish chasing the illusion, that he refused to listen as Yron attempted to show him how the spell worked. Now he was forced to use a Moving Illusion spell, which would give Raaj the power to help halt the advancing armies. Because of the programmed way the illusionary soldiers moved, the opposing armies would only be fooled for a short period-of-time. With the spell, he would be able to create soldiers in the middle of the field hundreds of yards away from the castle. Additionally, several garrisons of illusionary archers that appeared to pull their drawstrings back and fire arrows at the same time the archers did would slow down any advancing forces. If only Yron was here, Raaj sighed.

Raaj hated to admit it, but he even missed Yron's grungy mutt. When Yron chose the half-breed dog as his Familiar, Raaj had been concerned. It wasn't what he would have recommended, but the mutt did choose him.

Even his contemporaries were surprised that Yron would choose an earthbound Familiar, especially one that was so common. Only the more earth-magic inclined users chose companion Familiars over the more exotic airborne Familiars. Regardless, the mutt had grown on Raaj over the years. Ky could expertly track anything through the deep woods, he adored Yron, and he was a constant source of joy to both Raaj and his young maiggii. In the end, Raaj realized that Yron and Ky were perfect for each other.

Overhead, Raaj heard his Familiar piercing the sky with its cry. Racing up the stairwell to the top of the castle wall, Raaj attempted to see what it was that Abinya was looking at. A quick scan of the field Abinya was flying over didn't allow Raaj to see what his Familiar had spotted and neither did the Familiar Vision spell. As Abinya flew lower and lower in circles, Raaj watched for any movement.

Just then, from under a bush, Raaj saw a jackrabbit take off running from cover to cover. Abinya folded her wings and dove for the rabbit. At the last second, before hitting the ground, the eagle reached out with its talons and snagged the rabbit off the ground. As she did so, Raaj flinched. Embarrassed, Raaj looked around. He hoped no one had seen him duck as there was finally enough light for the Familiar Vision spell to work and Raaj, seeing what Abinya was seeing, feared he was going to hit the ground.

Raaj had never used Familiar Vision when his eagle was hunting. The visualization from the spell made it seem to him as though he was falling and speeding toward the ground to crash. The intensity of the visualization had convinced Raaj into believing he was falling to the ground. Despite the frightening experience, Raaj had to admit that watching his eagle dive was a thrill he would not mind experiencing again.

I should do one last scan of the horizon before the sun falls behind the mountains, Raaj thought. Climbing up one of the towers, Raaj looked for returning scouts or advancing armies but saw nothing. Raaj wished the Alarm spell had a longer range; perhaps that was something he could commission to be developed. The spell was never intended to be used to detect an approaching army; the spell's purpose was to be set along a trail to notify those that were camping that someone was approaching.

Yes, he thought, there should be a way to be notified of the advancing armies, especially at night, but the spell only works within a few hundred feet from where it's cast. He needed to count on the scouts. When he returned to his room, Raaj found Darmuth asleep in the bed. Is he ever going to practice? Raaj wondered. He was too tired tonight to press the issue.

Pulling out Yron's Inset box, he looked at it, knowing he needed a few more hours mending the fibers of the box before he could start to forge the plithim liner to complete the box. This was the first time Raaj used Yron's spell to create an Inset box, and he secretly wished his maiggii was there to help. However, Raaj didn't relish the idea of admitting to Yron that he needed help. He was the Grand Master of the Wizards' Guild, after all, and Yron was supposed to learn from him, not the other way around.

Secretly, Raaj knew he was lucky to have such a naturally gifted apprentice. For some reason, magic just speaks to Yron, he thought. He learned spells quickly and, on many occasions, adapted the words used to cast the spell to lengthen the duration of the spell or create an additional feature for the spell.

As he worked on the box, the work was so monotonous his mind began to wander back. Taking Yron to the Mascar was always a trying experience. Yron would go to the other guilds' booths and learn cross spells from other disciplines. Raaj was concerned that the other spells would distract Yron from the lessons Raaj wanted to teach him. It was harder still to keep Yron from showing off to the other young maiggiis and apprentices, demonstrating spells or variations of spells he'd learned.

Without exception, Yron created some sort of drama each year. Last year, he was showing the other apprentices a new twist he had used on a Silence spell that made it so the person on whom the spell was cast could only be silenced from speaking in their native tongue. Then, by immediately casting a Language spell, the silenced person would start to speak a foreign language without them knowing; only those around them could hear them talk in the foreign tongue.

The other young apprentices were so excited to try this new spell that one of them somehow mixed it up and changed the words, making the lips of the person on which the spell had been cast seal shut. It took Raaj several hours to cast the Reverse Magic spell on the poor victim. By then, most of the camp had heard of the mishap. The younger wizards reveled in Yron's accomplishments, but the older wizards looked upon his actions as reckless.

When Raaj completed the Mending spells to finish the box, he decided to retire for the evening. Tomorrow, he would begin to forge the liner for the box. Before Raaj fell asleep, he pulled his fire elemental from its jar. Placing it in a bowl, he sprinkled koa in the bowl to feed the elemental; the fire elemental needed to be strong enough to forge the plithim into sheets.

Raaj looked across the room at the sleeping Prince. The fear of the Inset spell being cast upon Darmuth's brother for the creation of a sword for Darmuth, dominated Raaj's thoughts, as he attempted to fall asleep. Raaj was glad they would have to wait two years until the next blue moon before they could forge the metal that would be necessary for the Inset sword which would be given to the young prince.
Chapter 29

Brelyah could hear breakfast preparations when she woke up. She rolled over to see if Yron was awake but found his bedroll was empty. It surprised her that Yron hadn't rolled his bedroll up and packed it away; he was usually very neat and tidy. She wondered where he had gone in such a hurry. Shrugging, she figured Yron would be back soon and he was requested for an early morning meeting.

The sun hadn't yet crested over the mountain edges, and Brelyah figured she could catch another hour of sleep. Pulling her blanket over her shoulders, she closed her eyes and tried to go back to sleep. It wasn't long, however, before she could hear Yron rummaging around in the camp. She could tell he was rolling up his bedroll and packing it away.

When she rolled over to talk to him, he was gone again. That was odd. Normally, he would jostle her to awaken her and get her out of bed. It was a game she started to play; she pretended she was too tired to get out of bed and beg for more time to sleep. He would then urge her to get up, coming back every few minutes to urge her to get up and get on with the day. She loved the attention. Only after she could tell he was getting frustrated, she would finally roll out of bed.

The next time Yron came in, she rolled over and, through squinted eyes, looked to see what he was doing. She didn't want him to know she was watching him. But when she turned, Yron was nowhere to be found. Sitting up, she called out to him, "Where are you?"

"Here," he replied, standing just behind her.

When she turned, she couldn't see him. Something must have been in her eyes because after she rubbed them, she was able to see him standing before her. Those dang ranger skills, she thought. One of these days I am going to get the surprise on him.

Yron was packing his gear away, "We need to eat and be prepared to leave with the first wagons," he said.

"Where is your dog? His name is Ky, right?" Brelyah asked.

Yron turned to find Ky, but he was nowhere to be found. That is strange, Yron thought. He could feel that Ky was nearby, but the dog was nowhere to be seen. "Get ready," he told Brelyah, as he began to search for his Familiar. After a few minutes, he whistled for Ky and soon felt a bump next to his leg. Reaching down, he scratched Ky around his ears but looking down; he saw nothing.

Yron jerked his hand back and moved away. Ky, thinking it was a game, jumped after him. It was only after he pushed Ky away a couple of times that he began to see first an outline, then slowly his Familiar appeared, standing in front of him, prepared to play a game of chase, which he felt Yron had started.

Yron had gotten used to Raaj sneaking up on him, using magic to prevent Yron from detecting him, but he had never heard of the same thing happening with an animal Familiar. Looking around, Yron could see no one was watching. Raaj must be nearby playing tricks on him, as odd as that seemed. Yron smiled. He decided he would pretend nothing had happened and see if he could catch his little jokester.

Before he could give it another thought, one of Lord Kimberlee's messengers approached, informing Yron that his presence was requested. Yron turned to Brelyah and told her he would be back, requesting that she eat and be ready to leave upon his return.

Lord Kimberlee was in the middle of the morning planning meetings for the day's travel. He wanted the Queen riding at the front of the column, but she was insisting she would remain at the rear. There was nothing he could do – after all, she was the Queen. While riding at the back was dangerous if an army approached from behind, it did provide a soothing influence on the rest of the camp. If the Queen didn't see any danger of an attack, why should they?

"Messenger, why haven't we met up with the King's army? You said you left them two days before we met up with you," Lord Kimberlee demanded.

"Sir, as I have told you, I rode hard and fast, riding through the night. We probably will not meet up with them until early tomorrow," Yron responded.

Turning toward the rest of the camp officers, Lord Kimberlee ordered, "We will need to pick up the pace. We cannot afford to be out here without any protection. Get the people fed and break camp now. Others can serve the food, and the kitchen crews can prepare to leave now."

Yron could see he was no longer needed in the meeting, so he turned to leave, but Lord Kimberlee called for him to stay. The men Lord Kimberlee was talking to, began leaving the tent.

"Courier, I have a job for you," Lord Kimberlee stated. "I need you to ride ahead and find the approaching army. I am concerned that something has happened, and we may not have the support coming that we think we do."

Yron wanted to argue with the Lord but thought better of it. As he turned to leave, Lord Kimberlee continued, "You can leave your assistant with us. She will only slow you down."

Yron was half tempted to explain to Lord Kimberlee who and what Brelyah was, but something inside of him forced him to say nothing, so he nodded. As Yron was leaving, Lord Kimberlee offered to let Brelyah travel with his family, which made Yron feel better. He knew she would be safe riding with them, plus they would watch after her.

As Yron walked back to the place he was camping, one of Lord Kimberlee's guards followed him. He didn't know what he was going to say to Brelyah or how he was going to tell her. They entered the tent, finding Brelyah packed and ready to head out.

"You have bad news, don't you?" she asked.

The question surprised him. Silence filled the air. Brelyah had that persistent stare, and Yron knew that no amount of silence would get him out of this mess. "Yes, the Lord of the camp wants me to ride ahead and find King Timon's approaching army. You will be riding with his family," Yron replied.

"Well, what if I don't want to?" she asked.

"There is really no choice. I can deliver the message much faster if I ride alone," Yron explained. "I will be back before dark."

"But you said they were still a day's ride away," she replied.

"I can ride fast," was all he said.

Yron instructed the guard to escort Brelyah to Lord Kimberlee's wagon. Yron slipped the stirrups over Tristina's back and mounted her. He watched Brelyah and the guard walk toward Lord Kimberlee's wagon. She was holding the reins of the black mare she had been riding and turned to look back for an instant, her gaze falling on Yron.

Embarrassed to be caught staring, Yron turned Tristina and headed across the prairie in search of King Timon's army. Looking over his shoulder, he could no longer see Brelyah, and he knew in a matter of a few minutes the entire camp would be out of view. Alongside him, Ky was running as fast as he could.

Yron knew it would be just a matter of time before he would need to reach down and pull the dog up, so he could lay in front of him on the Payleen's back.

They had been marching for several hours when Sartura decided they needed to rest. She knew the men couldn't keep this accelerated pace all day, despite their enthusiasm. When they reached the catapults, she knew there would still be part of the day left, and they would need to continue the march on toward Benflyn Dor.

Off to her left, Sartura could see a place where the trees at the edge of the forest created a large shaded area. That is where they would rest. While her men rested, she would be able to climb one of the taller trees to see if the catapults were anywhere in sight.

While no one would say so, the men were grateful for the rest. She was grateful, too. She wasn't used to this much exercise, and the double-time march was beginning to wear on her. After quickly drinking a couple of mouthfuls of water, eating some cheese, and a piece of beef jerky, she started her climb up the tree. At first, the climbing wasn't hard – the branches were spread apart, making it was easy for Sartura to climb between them.

The higher she climbed, however, the closer together the limbs were and the more fragile the branches. She had to stand on the limbs right next to the tree trunk to prevent them from breaking. She was still not high enough to see over the knoll that was just ahead, but looking around, she could see the beautiful mountains in the far distance. There was still a little snow on them, and the green trees provided a beautiful carpet in the forefront of the jagged mountain peaks.

Looking up, she could see that she would only be able to climb another fifteen or twenty feet before the branches would be too short to hold her weight. Pressing herself against the tree trunk as she climbed higher made her progress very difficult. She was beginning to get quite nervous. Heights had always scared her, and she had never been this high above the ground; even the turrets in the castle were not this high.

Two more branches and I will stop, she decided. As she climbed up the next two branches, she had to turn to look over her shoulder to see if she could see over the knoll ahead. What she saw when she turned frightened her more than the height of the tree. She was afraid to shout to her men below, but she knew she had to get down the tree as fast as she could. Climbing out onto the limb of the cedar tree, she straddled the tree limbs and started to slide down the outside of the tree limbs.

Partway down, she pulled the dagger from her side and threw it to the ground near the place where some of her men were resting. When the dagger hit the ground beside them, her men looked up. She tried to signal to them that they needed to get ready, but it was apparent to Sartura that the men just thought the dagger had fallen from her belt.

It became too hard to slide down the outside of the branches, so Sartura climbed back near the trunk of the tree to finish her descent. When she got close enough to call out to her men, she ordered them to prepare to march. By the time she had gotten to the ground, the men were up and ready.

"The catapults are under attack!" she shouted as she reached for her pack, slung it over her back, and started to run toward the knoll. The men wasted no time following her. Arriving at the knoll's edge, she took a few minutes to peer over the knoll as she assessed the situation.

Turning to one of the officers, she ordered him to take two-thirds of the men and head over to the tree line and race toward the catapults. She would take the remainder of the men and run down the hill straight toward the catapults. They would be shouting as they ran to draw the enemy's attention toward them, hoping the remainder of her garrison could get down the hill and flank the enemy without being noticed.

Dropping their packs, the men drew their swords and charged down the hill. Sartura ran ahead of all the men. The men who were trying to defend the catapults were beginning to flee when she and her men let out their war cry, as they charged the battlefield. The enemy troops turned to face Sartura and her charging men. She had taken down four men before anyone else in her garrison had even reached the first enemy soldier.

Their initial attack drove the enemy warriors back, but it didn't take long for the enemy commander to realize they had the new troops outnumbered three to one. He ordered his men to spread out and circle Sartura and her men. In return, she ordered her men to stand back-to-back in a circle and prepare to defend themselves. Looking at the catapults, Sartura could see several of the catapult operators fighting with the enemy soldiers. They were not doing well.

Each time one of the catapult men fell, it meant the enemy soldiers that were fighting him would join the fight against Sartura and her men. After several attempts to attack her side of the circle, the commander of the enemy forces ordered his men to contain her but to stay away from her. She could see that her attack strategy had worked. The remainder of her garrison was coming around behind the men she was fighting. When they were near enough to attack, Sartura ordered her men to charge toward her men that had flanked the enemy.

The enemy commander didn't expect the charge and was especially surprised when Sartura charged directly toward his position. As her part of the garrison reached the enemy troops and started to drive them back, the other part of her garrison attacked from their rear flank. The enemy commander that was caught in the middle between both parts of Sartura's garrison. Fifty more of the enemy troops died before their commander surrendered.

Sartura was relieved by his surrender. She knew they had an advantage, but if they had continued to fight to the end, there would be little left of her garrison to defend the catapults. As the enemy dropped their weapons, Sartura ordered her men to get ropes and bind up the prisoners.

She had no idea what to do with her new captives. This had been her first battle, and her first sword fighting outside of training and the games. She turned all issues dealing with the prisoners over to Taka, her second-in-command. He was a veteran soldier and would know what needed to be done.

As he dealt with the prisoners, Sartura had her men gather up the weapons the enemy had dropped and stack them on the catapults. Several of her men were sent back up the knoll to retrieve their packs. The prisoners removed their armor, and it was stacked on the catapults along with the weapons.

Sartura surveyed the situation. Several of the horses that were pulling the catapults had been killed. Fortunately, it appeared the catapults were still in good shape. The wounded men were bandaged, and those who were unable to walk were placed on the catapults. The horses that had been cut loose from the catapults by the enemy were being gathered and re-hitched. It didn't take long for Sartura to realize there weren't enough horses to pull two of the catapults.

Sartura knew they couldn't remain there – she feared that there could be additional enemy troops nearby. They needed to move out immediately. Sartura told Taka to find a way to get the prisoners to pull the two catapults that were now without horses. The archers, who were accompanying the catapults, were assigned to keep the prisoners from escaping. The catapult commander had been killed in the fight; it became Sartura's responsibility to take command of the catapults and their forces.

Scouts were sent out ahead to keep an eye out for enemy troops, and two scouts were sent to meet up with Lord Myningar. The scouts were assigned to warn him of the enemy troops and to request additional men to help defend the catapults.

Before they began their march toward Benflyn Dor, Sartura made sure all the wounded were cared for, and everyone had enough water. Those weary from the battle and in need of rest were placed on the catapults being drawn by the horses. She would rotate the men, giving them all a chance to ride and rest. She knew it was unfair to ask, but if the moons and clouds cooperated by providing enough light, they would march into the night.

Sartura knew what they needed now was distance between the catapults and the dead enemy soldiers. As they marched southward, it dawned on her just how real war was. It was nothing like the arena fights at the games where she had participated.

All around her, she could see the men of her garrison whispering and talking about the battle. They were discussing something about a badger, but she couldn't understand what it was they were saying. Curiosity was getting the best of her, but she didn't have the time to stay and try to understand. These catapults were needed on the plateau, and it was her job to get them there.

The morning came too quickly, or it seemed that way to Havendar. He could hear the guards pounding on the cell door. He rolled out of bed, pulled a shirt over his head, and placed their food plates through the hole in the door so that they could get their breakfast mush. Looking out the window, Havendar could see it was still dark outside.

Instead of filling the plates with food, one of the guards shouted, "Get up, you are being sent to Ocknard, be ready in five minutes." Havendar lit the candle in the center of the table. If they were going to get ready at this hour, they would need light.

Tarrie had heard the guard as well. The candlelight's reflection on Tarrie as she was climbing out of bed reminded Havendar of what he already knew. Tarrie was an attractive woman. She had a beautifully shaped body that, with a little cleaning, would surely produce the refined ambassador she claimed to be. Too bad her attitude didn't match her beauty. Then again, perhaps it did – or perhaps it did for beautiful royal women. Havendar shook his head; he didn't have time to ponder the subject. He needed to finish getting dressed.

He poured a cup of water and offered it to Tarrie. She took the cup without saying a word. It bothered Havendar that she seemed to expect him to serve her. Even the royals he had known in the courts he had visited, would at least thank you for doing something for them. Annoyed, Havendar sat down to finish dressing.

Tarrie was already dressed and waiting. "You do know what Ocknard is, don't you Ranger?" she asked.

Havendar didn't say a word. He had no clue what Ocknard was, but he didn't want to admit it to her. "If you know so much why don't you tell me so I can see if you know," he replied.

Tarrie bit her lip. Could he be so stupid to think she couldn't see through his reply? "No, if you know, there is no need for me to tell you," she responded.

Neither of them said another word until the guard pounded on the door again. The lock on the door was removed, and they walked out of the cell and climbed into a wagon like the one they rode in when they were brought to this town. Havendar let Tarrie board first. As he climbed in the wagon, he could see there were half a dozen other gladiators there also. Ocknard must be a neighboring city with an arena, he thought.

Havendar watched from the window of the wagon, as it traveled throughout the day. They passed through many small villages that were spaced about two or three hours ride apart. Between the villages, were farmlands that stretched as far as the eye could see. Most of them had animals fenced in large fields where they were grazing on the grass. He was amused by the differences in the cattle between here and Yemenor. The most unusual were the cattle that had long hair that hung to the ground and covered everything on their faces except for their snout.

Of course, in the fields with sheep herds, the grass appeared manicured like the lawns in the castle gardens he had seen. Occasionally, there were cornfields and other feed crops, but for the most part, other than the difference in the varieties of animals, the landscape was like any normal landscape that one would find between two major cities in Yemenor.

Tarrie talked continuously with the others in the wagon. Initially, Havendar tried to listen to what they were saying. He could catch a few words here and there, but mostly he couldn't hear their conversations. Of course, he knew they needed to whisper. The guards would have issue if they caught them talking. The noise of the wagon wheels rolling over the ground provided enough noise to keep them from being heard as they talked – if they whispered.

They hadn't been fed breakfast, and now, it was noon. It appeared they were not going to get anything to eat for lunch either. It is a good thing we ate heartily yesterday, Havendar thought. As they pulled into the next small village, the wagon jerked to a stop. The door of the wagon opened, and they got out.

As the group climbed out of the wagon, Havendar could see he wasn't the only one with stiff legs. Additionally, several of the faces he recognized from the holding room at the last arena. Tarrie huddled with some of the other fighters, as they were ushered into a large room in a building next to the wagon. When they entered the room, they seated at the large table in the middle of the room where a meal of meats, cheeses, fruits, and raw vegetables was placed before them.

Havendar could see their coach and the man who had bought them from the slave market, sitting at another table.

The two men had finished their meal and were in a heated discussion. They laughed as they got up. prepared to leave. Havendar watched the coach, still smiling and nodding his head. Whatever the disagreement was, it had been resolved. When they left the room, the coach and owner turned and looked at Tarrie and himself. That is when Havendar knew the discussion was about the two of them.

After the coach and owner left, Havendar and Tarrie was directed to return to the wagon. As they were left, they grabbed a couple pieces of fruit. Moments later, the wagon door was locked and with a slap of the reins on the horses back the wagon lurched forward. They were on their way again.

Havendar sat in the back of the wagon, so he could look out the window and watch, as they left the small village behind. They were on an eastern trek. By Havendar's calculations, they had traveled twenty-five or maybe thirty miles. As they rolled to a stop at the end of the day, they joined several other wagons that were parked around the small inn.

The wagon door opened, and they were guided behind the stable to a gated area that had several large buildings with bars over the windows. Cleary, this was where they would be sleeping tonight. As the gladiators entered their cell, their ankle shackles were removed. Food was piled on the table in the middle of the room. Straw-filled beds surrounded the perimeter. Interestingly, Tarrie was the only woman among the fifteen men who were locked in the room. Havendar grabbed a couple of pieces of fruit and sat on the bed in the corner that was the farthest from the entrance.

Lying down on the bed, he ate the fruit he had taken. One by one, the other men picked a bed they were claiming for their own. Havendar got up a couple of times to get more food to take back to his bed. As the natural light began to leave the sky, more of the men settled into their beds. Outside, the courtyard was lit by torchlight that provided some light for the room.

Tarrie had been indifferent to him all day, talking with one of the other warriors to the complete exclusion of Havendar. After eating a piece of cheese, Havendar puffed up some straw for a pillow and rolled over to sleep. He could hear the conversation around the table. Occasionally, he could hear Tarrie break out laughing, but slowly, the sounds of the courtyard and the whispering in the room no longer interested Havendar, and he drifted off to sleep.

Sometime in the middle of the night, he could feel Tarrie lift the cover blanket and quietly slide into the bed alongside him. Havendar could tell she was trying not to wake him. His initial reaction was to let her know he was awake. After a few minutes, Havendar rolled closer to the edge, pretending to be asleep, thus, giving her more room to lie down.

As Havendar moved closer to the edge, she wondered why he didn't just acknowledge he was awake and move over to allow her more room. He never gave her a chance to acknowledge that he cared for her comfort, effectively preventing her from being able to demonstrate that she was grateful that he was a gentleman.

The night seemed colder than usual, and Tarrie snuggled closer to Havendar. He was always so warm, and on those occasions where he chanted the Warmth spell, the extra comfort and heat made her forget what had happened to her.

When morning came, the shackles were placed on their ankles and they were herded into the wagon. Food was handed through the bars, before the wagon started to move. Havendar noted that they were heading east. Through the door in the back of the wagon, he could see several wagons filled with prisoners traveling behind them. All headed for the same arena. Tarrie moved to sit next to Havendar. Leaning over, she whispered, "We will be traveling like this for another two days and fighting in the big arena in Ocknard."

Apparently, more money from slave fighting could be made in Ocknard than any place else in this portion of the kingdom. While interesting, this news didn't provide Havendar any comfort. Each mile they headed east was another mile farther away from his home. Resting his head in the back corner of the wagon, Havendar attempted to sleep.

As he relaxed with his eyes shut, he could hear the men in the wagon starting to hassle Tarrie for choosing to bed with Havendar last night. Several men offered her their beds, and when she kindly refused their offers, they started to get rude and even crude with their remarks. Within a few minutes, Havendar had heard enough of it and decided it was time for him to put a stop to what they were saying. Just before he jumped up to grab the closest fighter who had made the last remark, Tarrie grabbed his thigh just above the knee.

Her fingernails dug into his skin, and she didn't let go. "There is more man in this ranger than any three of you combined," Tarrie hissed. Havendar didn't open his eyes to see her glare, but he knew what it felt like as she threw down such a statement. Fighting back a smile, he relaxed and settled back into the corner to rest during the ride.
Chapter 30

The engineers had managed to get twenty-eight horses on the plateau. King Timon walked down the road past several of the lifts in the queue. He could see several wagons were ready to be lifted to the top of the plateau. This was not what he wanted. They needed to lift all the horses except those needed to haul the wagons to the top of the plateau, this way they would have enough horses to use all the lifts that were being built, all at once.

Swallowing his frustration, the King realized it would take longer for them to back the wagons down and reprioritize the queue for the lifts than it would be to complete what was in the queue. When he arrived on the prairie floor, he ordered his men not to queue any more lifts until they received further instruction but lift what they already in line.

Requesting the trumpets to sound for a meeting of the War Council. As the first trumpeter sounded his horn, King Timon realized how stupid it was to be sounding trumpets. By the time he got the trumpeter to stop sounding the message, the second message was already on its way, and there was nothing that could be done to stop it. Nervously looking across the prairie where he had seen the approaching army, the King was grateful he couldn't see any dust columns. Hopefully, they were far enough away to have not heard the trumpeter.

He entered the command tent to wait for his men, finding Gertoff waiting anxiously, "Sire, time is running out," she said. "There is nothing more we can do."

"Where is that wizard?" King Timon asked in exasperation.

Gertoff didn't know how to answer the question, so she simply stood in silence. King Timon walked to the side of the tent that overlooked his son's wagon. From the shadow reflection on the side of the canvas wagon cover, he could see there was someone inside the wagon tending to his son. King Timon wished he could be the one to sit with the Prince, but it was not to be. Turning to one of his messengers, the King ordered, "Get that wagon in line to be taken to the top of the plateau."

"Gertoff, go with them, and do what you can." King Timon directed. With that, he reached out and squeezed her elbow. "Thank you," he whispered.

She nodded, as she left the tent. It always pained her to see her King's misery and anguish about his son. Only three weeks ago, the young Prince was eating and joking with his father over breakfast. Oh, how quickly things can change, she thought.

The King could hear Gertoff's orders, as she started to prepare the Prince's wagon for departure to the top of the plateau. She looks so exhausted, he thought to himself. Her usually perfect hair was starting to fall out of its braid, and her eyes revealed her need for rest. He longed for simpler days.

From where he stood, King Timon could see the dust from the horses of the scout team that he sent out earlier to intercept any scouts or spies from the approaching army. Behind him, he could hear his Council members entering the tent. He needed a few more moments before he was ready to face them. Off to his right, he could see the wagon carrying his son start to move. He knew it wouldn't be long before it was lifted to the top of the plateau. Returning to the situation at hand, King Timon approached his Council.

"Have you all been apprised of our situation?" the King asked.

Most of the men around the room nodded, but King Timon could tell there were those who didn't know. "We have spotted an army on the move to the southeast. Scouts are stationed on the plateau rim, and men have been sent out to intercept and spy on their movements," the King explained.

"At this time, it appears they are traveling northward along the far forest edge. We do not believe they are heading this way," the King concluded. "We will receive scouting reports from the top of the plateau once an hour."

Silence hung from the tent walls. Everyone knew that the fifteen hundred soldiers in camp were not enough to defend against an invading army. "I do not see that we have a choice. We need to warn the armies who are escorting our people fleeing Yemenor about the possible threat. In the meantime, we need to move everyone to the top of the plateau," Lord Lernard suggested.

"The army has turned, and they are heading this way," the young messenger from the plateau shouted as he barged into the tent.

"Lernard, send the scouts to notify the army protecting the people from Yemenor," the King ordered. "Tell them to keep traveling along the southern forest line, and we will keep them informed of the situation.

"We need to prioritize the lifts. Lord Og, I need you on top of the plateau. Find a way to get more lifts in operation. The rest of you prioritize the lifts and consolidate; we must maximize each lift. Only those personnel needed to facilitate the lifts will remain here on the prairie floor. The others will ride up with the wagons. We only have six more hours of light," the King concluded.

With Ky lying across his lap, Yron leaned forward and began to chant the Strength spell he had been working on for Tristina. This time when he started the chant, he felt impressed to change the cadence and used an entirely different verbiage than he had tried previously. The new chant seemed to be more like a Growth spell for animals. As he finished the spell, he could feel Tristina stretching her stride. Smiling to himself; The spell seems to be working, he thought.

As Tristina raced across the prairie, Yron worked to commit his new spell to memory. Repeating the chant over and over in his mind so that he would remember it, Yron marveled at how well the Strength spell was working. He needed to keep his head down because if he looked forward, the wind would sting his eyes.

It was mid-afternoon before Yron could see the column of dust from an approaching army. Even though Yron was positive this was the first army sent by King Timon to meet up with the people fleeing from Yemenor; he couldn't take a chance. Stopping and waiting until the army was close enough for him to determine who they were would cost him another hour of time. Unfortunately, there wasn't another option.

He found a ravine running along the ridge to his right. This would be a good place to hide Tristina, while he waited for the approaching army to pass by him. By Yron's calculations, the army was still three or four miles away. Yron dismounted Tristina and they hid in the ravine.

Opening the pack with the items he had retrieved from the cave, he figured he would use this time to study the contents of the bag. Emptying the bag, he noticed again, just how uniquely cool to the touch the blue-hued tunic was. Holding it in his hands, he tried again to cast a Mend spell on the hole caused by the arrow, but no matter which spell he used to try to mend the fabric, nothing worked. After each attempt to repair the hole, the thought of casting a Metal Weave spell, used to repair metal armor damaged in sword fights, crossed his mind. Each time, he dismissed the thought and attempted another of the Weave spells that he knew.

Yron was stumped. He had never seen anything like this, and no magic seemed to work on this fabric, if he could call it that. After the thought of casting the Metal Weave spell again crossed his mind, Yron thought; What difference would it make to try? Initially, he prepared to cast the spell that he would use to repair chainmail but started to chant the spell to repair plate mail instead. As he chanted the spell, he noticed the fibers of the material beginning to weave themselves together.

To his surprise, it took only a few minutes for the hole in the fabric to mend. Placing his finger where the fabric had been damaged, he could tell it was completely repaired. Pulling his knife from its sheath, he saw Ky alert him to the approaching army. He could see the Yemenite flags rising on the flag pole that was carried by each rider. Placing the items back into his pack, Yron stood and walked out of the gulley with his hands raised high. Tristina and Ky followed him, as he approached the scouts who were leading the way.

Raising their bows and drawing their arrows, the scouts stopped and called out to Yron. "Who are you, and what are you doing out here?" the lead scout demanded.

"I have a message from Lord Kimberlee for the commander of the Yemenite army," Yron replied. "May I reach for it?" he asked, as he started to reach inside his vest.

"Stand right there and keep your arms raised. Jeffrens, reach inside his vest and get the message," the lead scout ordered.

Yron could see everyone was tense and now wouldn't be a good time to make a move on the scout who was getting off his horse to retrieve the message. Raaj's words raced through his mind, The foolishness of pride and youth will get you killed. The temptation to knock the scout down as he reached into his vest was almost more than Yron could resist; however, he knew it was only his pride that was goading him into action.

Once the scout had retrieved the message from Yron's vest pocket, he returned it to the lead scout. While the lead scout lowered his bow and arrow to accept the message, the remainder of the group kept theirs trained on Yron. Yron could see the facial expression of the leader change when he saw the seal of King Timon on one message and the seal of Lord Kimberlee on the other.

"Stand down," the leader ordered. "In times like these, it doesn't pay to be too trusting," he apologized.

Yron nodded. With that, the scout leader asked him to mount his horse and follow him. "Lord Baintor will want this message as soon as possible," the scout leader said. Yron climbed on Tristina and, with Ky running at his side, they followed the scout leader back toward the main army.

"Your Majesty, they are headed directly toward us," was the latest report from the scout on top of the plateau.

This was news King Timon never wanted to hear. "Thank you," the King murmured.

Turning to Lord Lernard, "We need to discover what is happening with the approaching army and make some decisions. You have things under control here. If you need me, I will be back. Otherwise, I will keep you updated by messengers."

"Understood, Sire," Lord Lernard replied.

King Timon caught the next lift to the top of the plateau. Upon his arrival, he could see the progress that Lord Og had made. There were three teams of horses on each of the two lifts in operation. Another lift was almost finished and three others were being built.

The animals, goods, and wagons that had already been lifted to the top of the plateau were being moved away from the edge. Men were cutting trees in the forest, and the King could see that shelters were being constructed. Frames were being built over the first few wells, and it was only a matter of time before water from the wells would be filling the water basins alongside them.

In the distance, he could see several horses tethered to a rope stretched between two trees. His horse was not one of them, but that didn't matter. Heading toward the tethered horses, he put a bridle on one of them and headed for the nearest outlook. It had been a long time since he had ridden bareback.

Upon arriving at the scouting station, King Timon could see just what he feared most. No doubt about it; the approaching army was moving directly toward Tamar Wayne, the entrance to the plateau. From the King's estimation, they were only eight to ten hours away. If they stopped for the night, the King calculated they would arrive by late afternoon tomorrow. If they didn't stop, they would be here by mid-morning.

Instructing the scout to have the messengers use the horses to deliver the updates, the King left to meet with the War Council. "Please tell me if the army stops for the night," King Timon requested.

The next wagon that being lifted carried the command tents and other belongings of the King. There was nothing for King Timon to do but wait until the wagon arrived on top of the plateau. He would then take charge of setting up the command center.

While the King was standing at the cliff edge watching the next wagon being lifted to the top, Lord Og spotted him and crossed to where he was standing to update his report. "We will have all the lifts operational by nightfall," he said. "There isn't much to be done right now, so I have the men who are not working the lifts repair the wells. Some of the water basins need to be repaired to hold water. All of the wells need a lifting structure to bring the buckets of water to the surface and fill the water basins."

"I know we need to build cooking facilities and prepare a defensive position to ward off attacks, but we should build towers back from the cliff's edge so our lookouts are far enough away from the edge that the enemy cannot attack them with arrows and high enough so the entire camp can be viewed from above," Lord Og continued.

"If you place the command center on that ridge over there, we can build the first lookout right alongside it," Lord Og suggested, pointing toward the northeast corner of the plateau that was very close to the entrance.

"This is all very good, Lord Og," King Timon replied. "Once my wagon arrives on the plateau, I will take fifteen of your men and start setting up the command center. No," King Timon reconsidered, "I will take those men now, and we can start preparing the site."

"The next well we will repair should be the one next to the command center," Lord Og stated.

"No, we can carry water for now," King Timon replied. "We need to get ready for the animals first. When I was up here this morning, I saw where the people who lived here during the Shadow Wars kept their livestock. We need to repair those wells and water basins first," the King directed.

"I agree, Your Majesty," Lord Og replied.

As King Timon and the fifteen men headed to the ridge designated to set up the command center, the King marked where he wanted the tents set up. He knew it wouldn't be long before the Queen arrived, and he figured that initially, the rugged life on the plateau would be less than exciting for her. He found a nice, small clearing surrounded by trees where he thought they would put their personal tent. Removing his cape, he hung it from one of the trees that marked the entrance to the clearing.

As the men sent to set up the command center arrived, King Timon laid out their assignments, including cutting some brush and leveling the ground. He guessed it would take them an hour to get the site ready for the command center. From where he was standing, he could see that the wagon carrying the command center tents had just arrived on top of the plateau. He watched as the horses were hitched to the wagon, and he knew it wouldn't be long before it would be hauled over to the new location.

Once the men knew what he wanted them to do, the King left to wait for the next wagon to be lifted to the plateau. His dying son was about to arrive. When the King arrived, he could see Gertoff was preparing a potion on its tailgate. He knew better than to interrupt her when she was mixing potions and waited for her to finish.

"When you can arrange it, please move the wagon over to the clearing that is just south of where they are setting up the Command Center," the King told the men operating the lifts. "You will find my cloak hanging from a tree limb."

Turning to Gertoff, the King pointed out where he planned for the Queen and his personal residence to be located. "If you like, you can set up your tent alongside ours as well."

As the sunset raced across the sky, King Timon returned to the scout outlook. He wanted to see whether the approaching army was going to stop for the night. By the time the King arrived at the scout outlook, there was barely enough light to see the dust cloud of the approaching army. They hadn't made progress he had expected, and it didn't look like they had any plans to stop.

Once the sunset, the dust clouds were no longer visible. As expected, he couldn't see any campfires. There were no lights at the head of the column to guide the army across the prairie. They were moving slowly as if they had wagons, but he didn't know of a way for an army to cross this prairie at night with wagons without light to guide them. the risk of breaking an axle or injuring the animals pulling the wagons was just too great.

The King had no choice; the men were going to have to work through the night and lift the remaining supplies onto the top of the plateau. Nothing could be left on the prairie floor when the enemy army passed through. King Timon knew that unless the army passed while it was still dark, they would see the work that had been done at Tamar Wayne.

When all the gear was lifted from the prairie floor, his men needed to move the lifts back from the edge of the cliff so that they could not be seen. Perhaps the commanders of the approaching army would think that whoever was trying to reach the top of the plateau had given up because it was too hard to rebuild the road.

Tonight they couldn't chance fires on the plateau. The only fires tonight were the ones needed for the lift operators and the men working on the prairie floor.

The King's frustration grew each hour, as he received no word from the scouts that had been sent out to spy on the approaching army. If the scouts didn't return soon, they would be left on the prairie floor without protection from the passing enemy army.

The King made sure that Lord Og and the lift crews knew to be notify him once the scouts returned.

Yron couldn't tell if the commander of King Timon's army remembered him. The only thing he could see was that the message he had delivered didn't make the commander happy at all. When he finished reading the note, the commander wheeled his horse around and rode hard toward the army column.

Looking around, Yron felt awkward and didn't know what to do. The scout had been dismissed when Yron was brought to the army's commander, as the Commander of the army read the message given to him, Yron sat on his horse without any guards. After ten minutes, Yron decided to return to Brelyah and the people of Yemenor. After all, he had left his pack and gear with Lord Kimberlee.

The forward scouts didn't say a word to Yron as he passed by, heading back toward the citizens of Yemenor. Once he had ridden out of sight of the scouts, he picked Ky up and placed him on his lap and started to chant his new Strength spell. This time, the spell rolled off his tongue as though he had cast it a thousand times. The cadences were easier and smoother. The words came without hesitation and, from what Yron could tell, Tristina was traveling faster than she had when they raced toward the King's army.

Yron reached the forward scouts of Lord Kimberlee before midnight. Without cloud cover, the moon provided enough light for Yron to travel safely. The forward scouts didn't give Yron any trouble, as he passed through them. It only took Yron a few minutes to arrive at the front of the column. The sentries were walking around the camp when Yron rode in.

"Where is Lord Kimberlee?" he asked the first guard. "I am here to report on the assignment he sent me to accomplish."

"The Lord is resting for the night," the guard replied.

Yron lowered Ky to the ground and dismounted Tristina. "Find Brelyah," Yron instructed his Familiar. Ky ran back and forth across the camp before he picked up her scent. After that, it didn't take long for Yron to find her. She had camped a several hundred yards from the main camp, which surprised him. Lord Kimberlee hadn't kept an eye on her as he had said, but the fact that she didn't try to escape provided Yron with some comfort. Of course, this was also confusing to him. Why didn't she want to return to her people? This didn't make sense to Yron.

Ky was the first to enter her camp. When Brelyah looked up and saw Ky, Yron could see that she started to look for him too. However, when he arrived, she paid attention to Tristina and totally ignored him. Yron carefully eyed his Payleen. She puts up with the attention that Brelyah was lavishing on her, but Yron could tell it wasn't appreciated. As he was unloading his things off the back of Tristina, he noticed his bedroll was laid out, Tristina's grain bags were filled with food, and the water bag had fresh water in it as well.

Yron set the feed and water bags out for Tristina; she immediately started to drink. Once she had finished, she ate the tops of the grass surrounding Brelyah's camp.

Brelyah didn't say a word to Yron all night. Nothing about her actions made sense to Yron, but he was too tired to try to understand it tonight. As he prepared to lie down, he noticed that next to his bedroll was a fresh flask of water, a half of a loaf of bread, two pieces of cheese, an apple, and several pieces of dried meat.

When Yron turned to thank Brelyah, she was lying in her bedroll and appeared to be asleep. Ky was eating the food Brelyah had set out for him. With Tristina grazing on the grass nearby, Yron was left alone with his thoughts.

Looking over her shoulder at the knoll where the battle had taken place, Sartura started to feel sorry there wasn't time to bury their dead. Worse, they had scarcely traveled a mile when it became obvious that the prisoners pulling the catapults were not keeping up with the wagons pulled by the horses.

Leaving a catapult behind was not an option. Her only thought was to ask her men to help pull the catapults, too. At the top of the next knoll, Sartura placed both teams of prisoners on one of the catapults.

Turning to her men, she said, "I would not ask you to do this if I were not willing to do it myself. We have to get these catapults to King Timon at Benflyn Dor."

"I need you to pull with me," she continued, "I will not order you to do this, nor will I ever hold anything against you if you choose not to help."

With that, she grabbed the end of one of the ropes attached to the front of the catapult not being pulled by the prisoners. She was not surprised that several of her men joined her to pull the catapult, but she was surprised when the rope pulls were filled by her men, and there were men standing around waiting to help. A few seconds later, those standing around had gotten behind both catapults and were pushing.

A few minutes earlier, she was feeling ostracized by her men, as she feared they were whispering about her as they walked. Now she was feeling overwhelmed by their support. She was grateful that she had misunderstood the situation. They had a hard march ahead of them before they would be able to see Benflyn Dor, and she was thrilled with the unanticipated support.

Sartura's hope was that they could get far enough today so that they could reach Benflyn Dor by the evening of the next day. Exhaustion was beginning to set in. They had started early and marched long and hard to reach the catapults. Now, with tired legs, they were dragging two of the catapults across the prairie.

As the sun started to cast long shadows across the prairie, Sartura knew they wouldn't be able to pull the catapults through the night. They would need to rest, and it was time to find a place to camp. They would need sentries to guard the camp through the night, so she picked three men to help her take the first watch. As soon as they stopped, her men cut branches from the nearby trees and placed them over the catapults.

It didn't take long for most of the camp to eat and bed down to sleep. It was hard to keep her eyes open, as the exhaustion of the day's journey weighed heavily on her mind. The only way she could stay awake was to walk around the parameter of the camp. At midnight, it was time to change the guard. Sartura was relieved and didn't even bother to unroll her pack. She simply lain down in the grass, resting her head on her pack and fell asleep.

The next thing Sartura remembered was one of her men shaking her to get her attention. It was still dark when she opened her eyes. "Shhhhhh... Someone is approaching," the man whispered.

Sitting up, she tried to see what the sentry was pointing at. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Sartura could see fifty to seventy-five men on horseback riding past them about two hundred fifty feet away. By this time, the entire camp was awake and on alert. No one wanted to draw the attention of the passing soldiers, but one of the prisoners suddenly shouted to draw their attention.

The soldiers drew their swords; the archers raised their bows and notched their arrows. Sartura was prepared for the charge. The men on horseback turned toward Sartura and her men. She expected them to charge her position, but instead, one of the men on horseback shouted, "We seek no fight. We are seeking our countrymen."

"Drop your weapons and get off your horses. Our archers have you in their sights," Sartura called back.

The minute they dropped off their horses, Sartura realized she had made a mistake. While they were sitting on their horses, the archers could see the silhouette of the men by the moonlight, but now that they had dropped off their horses, there was no way to tell where they were, let alone on which side of their horses they stood.

"Before we soak this grass with your blood, there may be wisdom in determining if we are friend or foe!" Sartura shouted.

"We hail from Yemenor. We are heading south to meet the rest of our countrymen, who are less than a half day's ride from here," a voice replied from the dark.

"Then you attempt to deceive me, for I know that there is no Yemenor army within a day's ride of here," Sartura replied.

"Lad, what gives you such great confidence?" the voice from the dark inquired.

"Because I left the side of King Timon less than three days ago, and I know where he was heading," Sartura answered defiantly.

"I am Lord Jentree, sent by Lord Myningar," continued the voice in the dark. "Identify yourself, lad."

The hair on the back of her neck rose each time the voice from the dark called her lad, but she knew she couldn't let it get to her. If this was indeed Lord Jentree, she needed his help. "I am Arutras. I too, am here on a mission from Lord Myningar," Sartura replied.

The voice from the dark began to laugh, "Your scouts reached us several hours ago, and Lord Myningar sent us forward to provide you support. We saw your handiwork on the knoll. We are here to help."

"If this is a trick, attack with arrows and wait for them to charge before you draw your swords and counter-attack," Sartura ordered her men. "Do not give up your position."

With that, Sartura stood and walked forward. Her hands were raised so the men on horseback could see she carried no weapons. "Show yourself then," she ordered.

Seconds seemed like hours as she waited for a response from the voice in the dark. From behind one of the horses, a man raised his hands and walked toward Sartura. If he got too close, Sartura knew she would be able to draw the sword that hung behind her back. She had been practicing grabbing the sword resting behind her head for years. She had perfected the art of drawing her sword in this situation ... Her attack would leave the unsuspecting opponent with no option but to surrender or die.

As the man approached, Sartura could see the lack of trust was mutual. She watched his hands for the slightest movement to indicate he was pulling a weapon. As he walked closer, the moon shadow that covered his face was slowly replaced with her ability to see his features.

It was his glance at his right hand that gave his next move away. Stepping back, Sartura grabbed her sword, drew it from behind her head, and with a flick of her wrist, rested the tip of her sword against the throat of the man standing before her. "Now, for some honesty. Who are you, and what are you doing here?" she demanded.
Chapter 31

Once the last two wagons were lifted onto the plateau, a sense of relief settled on Lord Og. His men had worked throughout the night and accomplished everything they were asked to do. Three of the lifts were pulled back from the edge of the cliff, and the fourth lift was broken down enough to move. Once the wagons moved from the rim, the men would break down another of the lifts, leaving only the lift needed to bring the scouts to the top of the plateau when they returned from their duties.

The remaining lift was one of the smaller one. This would allow them to keep it operational until the last minute. Because of its size, they would only need to drop the main lifting beam and place two evergreen trees in front of it to hide the main structure. No one would be able to see it from the valley floor.

In the command center, King Timon was concerned. Where are those scouts that they sent to spy on the approaching army? Were they captured? What was keeping them so long? King Timon wanted Lord Lernard to provide him the answers, but he knew the Lord was just as frustrated with the lack of information.

"We cannot just stand here waiting for information," the King finally said. "Let's ride out to the outlook post."

The ride to the cliff's edge somber, void of the laughter and steady banter that generally accompanied their time together. Times were different now, as the men rode in silence. Instead of discussing the merits of the current crop harvests or finalizing the plans for the winter festival – which is what they would normally be doing during this time of year – the heaviness of the situation forced them into their inner thoughts and planning for the next threat.

When they arrived at the outlook, they discovered the scouts had constructed a small shelter during the night to protect them from the sun. Earlier reports indicated the approaching army had not lit any fires or used light to travel through the night. As the men looked across the prairie, they saw no evidence of movement.

"Can you think of a reason, other than the army below trying to travel without being noticed, for them to camp without fires?" King Timon asked Lord Lernard.

Lord Lernard shook his head. "No," he finally responded with a deep sigh.

About a six-hour ride away from the cliff edge, the moons provided enough light for them to see a small dust cloud rising off the prairie floor. The army must have stopped for the night and was preparing to break camp.

From where they were standing, the King and Lord Lernard could see a messenger riding hard from Lord Og's position toward the command center. "Go intercept the rider," the King ordered. "I will head toward the entrance."

The men left the outlook, riding their horses on a dead run. By the time the King arrived at the entrance, Lord Og was kneeling on the edge of the cliff, studying the approaching riders. From this distance, there was no way to tell who the riders were. There was no time to dismantle the lift, but fortunately, the trees that were used to cover the lift hid the structure well.

Dismounting his horse, the King ran to Lord Og's side. Both men watched the approaching riders with concern.

"I don't believe it's the scouts, Your Majesty." Lord Og pointed out. "There appear to be more than three riders." The two men watched in silence. It wasn't long before they were joined by Lord Lernard.

"You're right," the King replied, "I see at least five riders, maybe six. One of them is carrying a banner," he continued.

The riders didn't slow down, as they came around the front edge of Tamar Wayne. The rider carrying the banner and two of the other men stayed while three of the riders scouted the camp, eventually following the wagon path up the road leading to the plateau.

The King and his two Lords had repositioned themselves and were no longer standing behind the trees that hid the last lift from view.

"That rider carries the crest of Yemenor on his chest," Lord Lernard noticed.

From his position, the rider began to yell up the cliff, attempting to get the attention of those on the plateau. Lord Lernard stepped out from behind the tree.

"What is the password?" he shouted down to the rider.

"Password? What are you talking about, Lord Lernard? You never gave us a password," the scout responded.

"We have messengers from Rathor with us. They were forced to flee to Benflyn Dor when their armies were defeated by the Marlende," the scout reported. "They have spent the last four weeks traveling. Their King and his army joined other forces in the region to stop their enemy's attacks."

"These scouts who have ridden here with us are to report back as to whether King Timon or his representative will meet with their commander to determine a way for them to take shelter on the plateau," the scout continued.

King Timon stepped out from behind the trees, despite Lord Og's best efforts to convince him this could be a trap.

"Get my horse. Lord Lernard and I will meet with their commander," the King ordered. "Lord Og, prepare to lower us to the prairie floor," the King continued. "Ready the lifts. If this report is true, we will have company soon."

Thirty minutes later, King Timon and four of his bodyguards, Lord Lernard, the Yemenite scouts, and the three messengers from Rathor left Tamar Wayne headed for the approaching army.

"Two of you," speaking to two of the messengers from Rathor, "Ride ahead and seek an audience with the commander of your forces."

After the riders left, King Timon continued, "We need to be smart about this." With that, the King signaled to Lord Og. From above, two men were lowered from the plateau. "We can't risk meeting with them until we are sure," the King continued.

Turning to the remaining Rathor scout, the King continued, "Ride with me, if you wouldn't mind, I would like to know more about your people."

Lord Lernard waited for the two men that were lowered in the lift to saddle up their horses and fall in behind them before he led the entourage out of Tamar Wayne.

"Of course, I have heard of Rathor; I have watched the combatants from your country fight in the world championships," the King stated, "But I apologize that I do not know more."

It didn't take long for King Timon's scouts to ride out of sight after they left to deliver the King's request to the commander of the forces ahead. The King moved his horse between the two Rathor scouts so he could hear what they were saying. Out of the corner of his eye, the King could see that Lord Lernard had positioned himself behind and off to the right of one of the scouts. The other guards were behind and to the left of the other scout. King Timon wondered if the scouts had noticed the concern of his men; they had positioned themselves to protect him if the scouts were to make any aggressive moves.

As they traveled, the King learned about the people of Rathor and their customs. They were not a kingdom of the High Plains, so he didn't know much about them. He found it interesting that their king was chosen once every five years, and he was selected because he was the best swordsman in the land. Furthermore, their king could serve for no more than ten years. Once a king retired, he could serve in the army if he chose. but most of the former king's responsibility was to serve as a member of the Council, along with the second-place winner of the tournament that the new king had won.

If the king was killed in battle, he was replaced by the second-place winner of the king's tournament, but if the king died by any other means, he was not replaced until his five years were completed and then never by the tournament's runner-up. Instead, the Council would rule as a collective group.

King Timon also learned that the men from Rathor ate with their left hand and drank with their right. Wine and ale could be consumed after dark, and all children were taught the art of warfare. Everyone in the kingdom, upon turning sixteen years of age, had to serve in the army for two to six years, depending on how many children were in the family. The more children, the less time each child had to serve.

Marriage was arranged by the parents, with a one-year exclusive courtship. At the end of the courtship, the couple could decide to either marry or allow their parents to find another possible companion. Marriage was forever, with no divorce, and once a man or woman married, they were not to serve in the army unless they had risen to an officer's rank.

After their military career, the people of Rathor were trained in a profession of their choice. If they chose to farm, the government gave them a piece of land to use until they could afford to buy their own land. Each profession had similar arrangements.

The conversation was so fascinating and lively to King Timon that he was surprised when Lord Lernard informed the group that the commander of the Rathor people was approaching. King Timon looked up, and on the horizon, about five hundred yards ahead, rode one man. The banner of Rathor flapped in the breeze to his right, just like the banner carried by the scout who rode next to King Timon.

The King turned to Lord Lernard and said, "Wait here," as he rode forward to meet the Rathor commander. They met about two hundred yards away from Lord Lernard. Behind him, King Timon could see Lord Lernard pacing his horse back and forth. Smiling, King Timon reached out his left hand and grasped the elbow of the commander.

"I am King Timon," he said.

"I am Cerdon," the commander replied. "I can see you were taught the customs of our greeting."

Yron hadn't been asleep more than an hour before he heard Ky begin to growl. At his Familiar's snarl, Yron knew someone must be approaching the camp. Yron followed Ky's stare, directed at a spot next to where Brelyah was lying. Before long, he could see someone approach the camp and stand just outside of the camp's light ring. It was one of Lord Kimberlee's messengers.

"Your presence is requested in the command center," the messenger explained. Yron had expected the invitation.

What he didn't expect was Brelyah's response. She suddenly stood toe-to-toe with the messenger and, while looking him in the eye, said, "He has ridden all day, and you can let him sleep."

Yron was amused by the confrontation. He wanted to wait and see who would back down first but knew there wasn't time for this silliness. "It will be alright," he said to Brelyah. "I will be back shortly."

Slipping a jacket over his shoulders, he followed the messenger to the command center. Lord Kimberlee was waiting for him. "Do you have a message for me?" the Lord asked.

"No sir, I was not given a response, nor was I told to wait for one," Yron explained.

"How long will it take to meet up with them?" Lord Kimberlee continued.

"I believe it will be either late morning or early afternoon on the day after tomorrow unless either group travels through the night," Yron explained.

"That is not possible," Lord Kimberlee continued. "You were able to get there and back in a day."

"Tristina is fast," Yron explained. "And we rode hard." Silence filled the command center. Several of Lord Kimberlee's officers grumbled with skepticism – no one found Yron's explanation amusing or even credible. "Do you have any idea when the troops left in the castle at Yemenor will arrive?" Yron asked.

"The longer it takes, the better it is for us," Lord Kimberlee replied. "I don't expect them to meet up with us any sooner than a week from now."

"In the morning, Brelyah and I will be leaving," Yron informed Lord Kimberlee. "We need to meet up with King Timon at Benflyn Dor. I have unfinished business there."

"You are the King's messenger," Lord Kimberlee replied. "You will leave when I say you can leave."

"Kimberlee, you are grossly mistaken," Yron responded. "I am the maiggii of Grand Master Raajanaar, a wizard of the first order, and I am under no obligation to serve you at all. If I fulfill any of your requests, it is because I choose to do so. I delivered the message I brought to you was because I chose to. Do you understand?"

As the men around Lord Kimberlee started to chuckle, one of them asked Lord Kimberlee, "Should I teach this lad some manners?" Lord Kimberlee, still stinging from the insult of a commoner calling him by his last name, nodded his approval. As three of Lord Kimberlee's men started to approach Yron, he took two steps back and flung his robe back, exposing his hands.

"Constrict!" Yron shouted, as he reached his hand out and clenched his fist. Suddenly, each of the men in the room – including Lord Kimberlee – grabbed at their throats as if pulling something from their necks. As he stood there in the room watching the men choke, Yron was confused. Where had that spell come from? A one-word spell, he thought. I have never heard of such a thing. Looking around the room, he could see he needed to do something to stop the spell. Release the grasp of my fist, he thought. As he did so, the men fell to the floor, gasping for air.

Lord Kimberlee and the other men got up off the floor looking at each other. None of them dared to say a word. "I will be leaving in the morning," Yron repeated. As he turned to leave, he stopped. "I don't see a reason to talk about this, do you?" By the nodding of their heads, Yron could see that the men were in complete agreement.

"If you head directly southeast, you will run into King Timon's army, which has been sent to provide you protection," Yron concluded.

Yron left the command center and headed back to where Brelyah was camped. She was awake, waiting for his return. "What did they want?" she questioned with wide eyes.

"They wanted to know how much longer they needed to travel before they met up with the army that was sent to protect them," Yron replied. "We will be leaving in the morning, before the camp breaks. Please be ready."

Yron lay down on his bedroll to rest, his mind racing about what had happened in the command center. As he relived the encounter, he decided it would be best to make sure no one attempted to retaliate while they slept. Yron proceeded to chant and placed Alarm spells around the perimeter of the camp. Ky lay next to him. Yron knew his Familiar would warn him if anyone approached.

Despite his confusion about the spell, and his concern about a possible attack, Yron was finally able to quiet his mind to sleep. He awoke just as the sun was breaking over the horizon. As he looked around the camp, he noticed that Brelyah had her belongings packed, her horse saddled, and she was ready to leave.

Getting up, Yron reached into his pack and grabbed some sweet bread. He broke the loaf in half and handed one of the parts to Brelyah. It only took him a few minutes to get packed and ready. As he climbed onto Tristina, Yron took one last look around the camp.

"Let's go," he said to Brelyah.

As the two started to leave camp, they found Lord Kimberlee waiting for them. "I owe you an apology," he said.

"Don't worry; it was a misunderstanding. But I think everything is cleared up now, am I right?" Yron asked.

Lord Kimberlee nodded his agreement.

"We will see you at Benflyn Dor," Yron said. "Do you have a message for King Timon? We can wait if you do."

"If you will take a few moments to eat, I will have a message written for you to deliver," Lord Kimberlee replied. "But I won't have time to explain everything in the dispatch regarding Yemenor; how Master Raajanaar and the men there are delaying the attacking armies to provide us with as much time to escape as possible. You will have to explain that yourself."

Yron and Brelyah waited for Lord Kimberlee, as he scrawled a quick message. Once Yron had the dispatch, he and Brelyah rode out of camp. Looking over his shoulder, Yron knew it would be another hour before Lord Kimberlee and his men would be on the trail. As Yron and Brelyah passed by the sentries, Yron began to chant the Strength spell he had used on Tristina yesterday. Yron was glad to see the spell was working on Brelyah's horse as well. While it didn't help her horse run like Tristina, it undoubtedly invigorated and strengthened her mount.

"If you want to take another breath, order your men to get back on their horses and raise their hands," Sartura ordered. "No one needs to die here."

"You heard what he said," Lord Jentree ordered. "Now do it." The fear in his quivering voice revealed his inexperience.

"Now, you are going to slowly tell me who you are and what you are doing here," Sartura explained.

"I am Lord Jentree, sent by Lord Myningar of Yemenor. We are here to provide support for one of his garrisons. As they were defending some wagons and equipment, they were recently engaged by enemy troops," the young commander explained.

"If this is true, why did you reach for your weapon?" Sartura questioned.

"From where I was sitting on my horse, I could not see any of the wagons or other equipment that Lord Myningar said Arutras would be traveling with. The closer I got, the more I became concerned that this was a trap. Reaching for my weapon was the signal for my men to attack," the commander continued. "In this light, you do not look like Arutras."

"Next to the bakery in Yemenor, on one side there is a small shop that sells leather goods, and on the other side, there is an inn. What are the names of the leather shop and inn?" Sartura asked.

"There is no bakery in Yemenor. All the baking happens in the castle bakery. Baked goods are free to any citizen in Yemenor," Lord Jentree replied in confusion. Sartura smiled. While the young Lord didn't realize the purpose of her question, she knew his clear answer regarding the procedure of her kingdom marked him as a Yemenor citizen, not an enemy.

Closing his eyes, Lord Jentree said a quick prayer, as the sword point resting on his neck, was pulled away. "Please accept my apology," Sartura said. Interesting, she thought, Lord Myningar had sent her cousin to come to her aid. Laughing to herself, she wondered what her dear cousin would do if he knew who she was.

Turning toward her men, Sartura ordered, "You may stand down."

"We have found Arutras and his men," Lord Jentree explained to his troops.

"Bring your horses and men in the clearing here and rest with us until morning," Sartura directed. "The catapults and wagons are over there; we placed branches on them to hide them in the event of an ambush during the night," Sartura explained.

The two commanders walked away from the troops to talk and plan for the next day's travel, while their men greeted each other. It wasn't long before the discussions between the two garrisons dropped to a whisper then all was quiet.

Sartura explained the situation. They had captured fifty-seven prisoners, and two of the catapults didn't have horses to draw them, which hampered their mobility. Seventeen of her men were wounded, eight of which couldn't walk. Her men were exhausted from double-time marching to catch up with the catapults, then the fight, and finally, pushing and pulling the catapults for the last five hours.

Many of the men were limping due to blisters on their feet. With the extra demand for food and water because of the prisoners, the group was running short on rations. And unfortunately, they had no time to rest. King Timon needed not just the catapults but as many troops at Benflyn Dor as possible and as soon as possible.

Together, they agreed to depart at dawn, leaving twenty men behind to guard the prisoners. The rest of the two garrisons would head toward Benflyn Dor. The horses that Lord Jentree's men were riding would be used to pull the two catapults being pulled by the prisoners and would also supplement the other horse teams to allow them to travel faster. They would send scouts ahead so they would not be surprised by enemy forces. They also agreed that once they started in the morning, they would not stop to rest until dusk. Then, once the first moon rose, they would continue to travel until they arrived at Benflyn Dor.

Arutras would travel in the front, and Lord Jentree would follow behind. Once they came to the next stream, they would clean blistered feet, bind them with medicinal leaves, refill the water barrels and flasks, and eat. With the important decisions made, Sartura was grateful that it was time to rest for the night.

It had been four days since the Queen had left Yemenor. The defensive measures were almost finished, and Raaj had no idea what to do next to keep the men busy. Darmuth had finished placing the oil bags in the trees surrounding the castle, the weapons had been buried behind the castle under the animal dung heap, and the men had decided that hiding the graveyard was more impossible than impractical.

The idea of burning the castle when they left didn't make anyone feel good and finding a way to hide the tunnel they planned on using for an escape route became challenging; to say the least. All the ideas they came up with would make it impossible for them to use the tunnel to retake the castle.

The two scout reports gave no indication that there were any armies within two days of the castle. There were no signs of an army approaching from the south or the east. The last indication of an approaching army from the west, except for the captured spies, was over a week ago. Raaj was beginning to wonder if they were waiting in a castle that was not going to be attacked.

Aside from the Inset Storage spell, Raaj had finished building the Inset box for Yron. Unfortunately, Raaj feared that by the time he could leave the castle, the King's son would have passed, and there would be no way to cast an Inset spell. The King had been a good friend of his, and the thought of not being able to provide this brief bit of comfort was agonizing to the wizard.

Raaj decided he would leave first thing the next morning and head west to see if he could find the Shakarine armies. In conjunction with his efforts, he would send spies out to the south and northeast, instructing them to ride until they found the enemy, then report back. This was the only way he could be sure about what was happening.

If the forces that were planning an attack on Yemenor had a change of plans, Raaj knew he and his men could be of greater use on Benflyn Dor. No decision about abandoning the castle would be made until all the scouts had returned.

By riding Verser, Raaj knew he should arrive back at the castle within two days. Raaj explained everything to the men when they were eating supper. Although there were some protests, Raaj assured the men he would return before the enemy was able to attack. When it became clear Raaj was leaving Darmuth behind, their concerns about being abandoned at the castle were eased.

After dinner, Raaj went to his room to rest. As he lay in bed, he heard every sound in the castle; there was no use trying to sleep. Raaj grabbed his gear and headed back down to the courtyard. He grabbed some food, placed it in his pack, climbed onto his Payleen, and headed out of the castle. Abinya followed overhead. It is going to be a long ride tonight, Raaj knew. The wizard ducked down and encouraged Verser to run hard. The moons were creating enough light that he didn't need to cast his Moonbeam spell. Raaj was expecting to find the Shakarine shortly after the sun cleared the trees, then be back at the castle in time for supper.

# Chapter 32

"Cerdon?" King Timon questioned, "Not, Lord Cerdon?"

"Only Cerdon. We do not use nobility titles in our land, except for the king," the commander responded.

Cerdon explained his situation. He was charged with taking the people of Rathor to seek refuge at Benflyn Dor. He presented King Timon with the seal from the King of Rathor. King Timon could see the emblem of authenticity in the seal; a secret mark, known only to royalty, was placed in all royal seals to verify the seal was not a forgery. The knowledge of the emblem was passed from generation to generation so that only the future king would know how to determine the legitimacy of the message.

King Timon signaled to Lord Lernard that all was well – this was no trap. After receiving the signal, Lord Lernard turned to one of the scouts and sent him back to tell Lord Og to expect company and prepare the lifts.

"Oh yes, if Lord Og asks for the password, tell him 'Sortellia,'" Lord Lernard said, smiling as he gave the young scout his orders. As the scout turned back toward Benflyn Dor, Lord Lernard broke out laughing. He only wished he could see Lord Og's face when the scout gave him the password.

Cerdon was given a map that was several hundred years old. He was using this outdated map to guide his people to Benflyn Dor, but things had changed since the map was drawn. Forests that once existed had burned down or been cut away, prairies had become forests, and the new landscape was confusing.

Cerdon had been wandering for several weeks looking for Benflyn Dor. It was only after he saw the cliffs of the plateau that he dared to hope they had found the fortress of their historic legends. It was at Benflyn Dor that the people of the high plains stood against Lord Malkanard and his army for many decades. If it hadn't been for the secret tunnel carved from stone allowing the army of the high plains to circle behind Lord Malkanard and attack his command post, the siege might not have ended.

King Timon was interested in hearing more about the Shadow Wars from the historic perspective of the Rathor people because the tales he had been told as a youth varied significantly, but this was not the time to be talking about history. They were in the middle of the Gantus Plains with enemy armies roaming the land.

"I am not being rude nor trying to cut you off, but we need to get your people off the plains and on the plateau as soon as possible. They will be safe once we lift them to the top," King Timon explained.

"You are right, indeed," the commander responded. "The time for socializing and reminiscing is around a campfire when our people are safe."

"Lead your people toward the front edge of the plateau," King Timon said, as he pointed to the map and Tamar Wayne, "and order them to get there as soon as possible. I know this will spread out the column and make it harder to defend, but from our lookout post, there is no movement across the prairie. There is no need to fear," King Timon said.

"The road to the plateau is destroyed beyond repair. We will have to use our lifts to hoist everyone and everything to the top of the plateau. There are only seven lifts built, and the sooner we get started, the sooner we can be finished," King Timon suggested.

"We do not know each other. I know taking my word about your people's safety is a risk. You are welcome to seek refuge at the base of the plateau at Tamar Wayne and defend your own or trust me and allow my men to lift you and your people to the summit," King Timon explained.

"Is there anything we can provide to help you arrive sooner? Wagons? Horses? Anything?" King Timon added.

"No, we are fine. We will see you there, King Timon," the commander replied as he reached his left arm out, taking hold of the King's elbow.

"We will see you there," King Timon responded.

Sartura was one of the first to rise in the morning. The sun wasn't yet providing enough light for the camp to move out, but several of the men were awake as well. As more men arose, Sartura guided and directed them to remove the branches they had used to hide the catapults and wagons. Once the equipment was uncovered, the men started to bring the horses over to hook up to the wagons. As each horse was hitched to the wagon, one of the men would stand and hold a bucket of water, allowing the horse to drink.

It took a while for the entire camp to awaken, and by the time the sun had risen enough for them to head out, the camp had been broken down. The horses were watered and connected to the wagons and catapults, the wounded loaded on the catapults and wagons, and the men were packed up and ready to march. Lord Jentree and Sartura started at the head of the column, as Sartura explained to the Lord that, by her calculations, they were a two-day's ride from Benflyn Dor.

Lord Jentree's curiosity about Benflyn Dor was obvious by his questions, but Sartura was weary and exhausted and had no desire to babysit her young cousin who obviously had not bothered to learn or remember the history lessons they were taught in school.

"Is there anything we need to decide before we reach our first watering place?" Sartura asked.

Lord Jentree shook his head. "No, I think we have it all covered," and with that, he got on his horse and rode to the back of the column.

He was glad to see that the men of the two garrisons were talking amongst themselves, as they walked together. Occasionally, Lord Jentree would join in the conversation with the men, while he rode toward the back of the column.

The dust from the wagon wheels was soon too much for Lord Jentree to handle, so he rode to the windward side of the wagon column. This allowed the slight breeze to blow the dust away from him. Several of the men who formed the rearguard were members of Arutras' garrison.

For the longest time, they walked beside Lord Jentree without saying a word. Finally, Lord Jentree made a comment about the battle site, launching a conversation about the battle.

"When we crested the hill and charged the enemy, Arutras led the charge. Before any of us could engage in the fight, Arutras had five or six dead men lying at his feet. He was ferocious on the battlefield. In one hand, he held a sword and the other a battle knife. Every stroke of his sword or knife caused death to those he was fighting," one of the men said.

Another continued, "I swear almost half of the enemy that lay on that battlefield died by his hand. When the battle was over, we were concerned about his wounds, because he was soaked in blood from head to toe. But rather than tend to his wounds, he tended to the wounded in his garrison, then to the enemy wounded."

"Yes, and when everyone had been cared for, he stopped to clean the blood from his armor and weapons. There was not a scratch on him anywhere. We have heard of his fighting skills from the games, but no one could have prepared us for what we saw on the battlefield that day," the first man continued.

"Arutras is a fighting god," the second reflected.

"Yes," the first man agreed, "A fighting god."

"I would follow him anywhere. He doesn't ask us to do anything he would not do. He is a leader who commands by example and not just with words," the second man said.

"I agree," the first concluded.

"You know, there isn't one of us who doesn't have blisters on our feet from the march to catch the catapults, but he refuses to even limp from his own blisters," another of his men reported.

Lord Jentree didn't know what to say. He had never heard of such loyalty to a garrison commander. He knew for sure that none of his men would ever say that about him. Lord Jentree followed the column in silence. He was embarrassed to think of the respect that Arutras had from his men compared to how his men must feel about him.

As the miles piled up, Lord Jentree committed himself to finding a way to be a man of honor like Arutras.

Ahead, he could see the column had slowed down and come to a stop. Lord Jentree headed to the front of the column to see what was causing the delay. As he got closer to where the wagons had stopped, he could see Arutras handing cups of stream water to the wounded men riding on the wagons and catapults. While he was making sure they were given sufficient water, the barrels on each wagon were being filled with buckets of cold, refreshing water. It took over an hour for the men to receive water and have the barrels refilled.

Lord Jentree could see what Arutras was doing. Under the guise of making sure the water barrels and the men's water flasks were filled, as well as giving water to the wounded men, he had found a way to give them an hour and a half of rest. Once the watering was completed, they broke out the food, and both garrisons ate.

As soon as they finished eating, Arutras pulled several hundred leaves from a pouch and placed them on the tailgate of one of the wagons. "Those of you with blisters on your feet, I need you to wash your feet, dry them on your bedding, then place these leaves over the blisters before you put your socks and shoes back on," he commanded.

When Lord Jentree asked one of his men where Arutras had gotten the leaves, he was told, "Arutras would walk ahead of the column, and when he found one of the plants he was looking for, he would pick most of the leaves off the plant and continue until he found another plant. He has been doing this all morning," the man replied.

Once everyone was ready to continue the march, Arutras changed the traveling arrangements. Those who had been riding horses were now going to walk, and those who had been walking were assigned to either ride in the wagons or ride one of the horses. As the wagon column continued to travel south by southwest, Arutras again walked to the front of the column in search of the healing plants.

They stopped two more times in the day's march. Each time, Arutras followed the same routine. By nightfall, she could see the men were too exhausted to continue through the night. She estimated she must have made pretty good time since she had expected that Lord Myningar would have caught up with them by now.

Tonight, they would rest without cover from the trees. The sentries would need to be doubled and stationed at least a half-mile from camp, with three men assigned to each sentry group. This way they could rotate the guard duty amongst themselves while the other two rested. Arutras led one of the sentry groups out of camp to the south. She wanted to see if they were close enough to see campfires on the plateau. To the surprise of his men that knew him, Lord Jentree volunteered for one of the sentry assignments, too.

As he watched Sartura leave the camp leading the garrison that was to catch up and protect the catapult company, Lord Myningar knew there was no way he could ever explain to his King how the King's oldest daughter was wounded or killed in battle. He knew he needed to send a garrison as soon as one was ready to protect her so that possibility would never become a reality.

It took about an hour for Lord Myningar to get the next garrison ready to follow Sartura. The commander soon to be ready to leave, Lord Favlor, was an experienced and politically attune leader. He would show Sartura respect while providing the leadership needed to accomplish the task at hand.

It took another three hours for Lord Myningar to gather the rest of his men in formation to head out toward Benflyn Dor. King Holben had provided Lord Myningar a map. Without it, Lord Myningar knew he would never have been able to find his way to the final battlegrounds of the Shadow Wars.

The stories of the final battle told how Lord Malkanard had been defeated, by three wizard Lords, in a magical battle that lasted three days and nights. The Master Wizard's arms were so tired that his maiggii had to hold them up, so he could continue to cast the spells that protected the armies while they continued to attack Lord Malkanard.

These were the bedtime stories Lord Myningar had heard over and over again, told by his father, who claimed his father's, father's, father's, father, etc., had witnessed the battle and passed it on through generations so that what they did that day would never be forgotten. These stories had been running through Lord Myningar's mind for several days now. He was honored and nervous to be soon standing where this great battle had taken place. He sensed that his men felt the same.

It was later that afternoon when Lord Myningar found Lord Favlor lying wounded against a tree. Several of his men, lying around the battlefield, were similarly injured. "I failed you, my Lord," Lord Favlor cried apologetically when he saw Lord Myningar.

"We were attacked, but we were able to defeat the garrison that attacked us. We fought to the last man, but when the battle was over, none of us had the strength to catch up with Arutras or report back to you of our failure," the wounded Lord continued in despair.

"No, my friend, you did not fail me. You stopped our enemies," Lord Myningar responded. "We will get you and your men into the healing wagons. I need to take care of business, and once I am done, I will come to the healing wagons, and we can talk. Please get some rest."

Lord Myningar called for one of the cavalry units. He needed someone who could catch Arutras before she ran into the same fate as Lord Favlor. From the back of the column, Lord Jentree charged forward on his horse. "We need you to ride ahead," Lord Myningar ordered. "Arutras was the first garrison to leave this morning. They were sent to catch up with the catapults column that had already left."

"Those catapults must be protected, and they must reach Benflyn Dor," Lord Myningar continued. "Arutras is in command of the garrison. When you meet up with him, make sure he knows he is still in charge of protecting the catapults, and that I will hold him personally responsible if even a single catapult is damaged or destroyed."

"Leave as soon as you are able. Lord Favlor was ambushed by enemy patrols. Make sure you do not suffer the same fate." With those words, Lord Myningar dismissed Lord Jentree.

Lord Myningar was sitting in the healing wagon with Lord Favlor when he heard Lord Jentree ride by with his cavalry unit. He wished he had told him to ride straight until they found Arutras and the catapults, but it was too late now. He would have to trust his judgment.

Lord Favlor had been sedated, and there wasn't much Lord Myningar could do until he had rested. He climbed from the wagon and walked alongside as it continued along the old road leading west from King Holben's castle. Eventually, Lord Myningar unhitched his horse from the wagon and rode to the front of the column.

Havendar sat staring through the bars in the back of the wagon. The past two days were much like they had been since they started the journey, except last night when he lay down to sleep, Tarrie thanked him. She added, "The day after tomorrow when we fight, I am just warning you – there will be a surprise." With that, she rolled over, her back resting against Havendar.

There was more traffic on the road today, and the houses were getting closer together. We must be getting closer to a bigger city, Havendar thought. Unfortunately, even with the onslaught of civilization, there wasn't much to distract Havendar from his thoughts about Tarrie's comments last night. A surprise? What could that mean? He had tried to get her to expand on what she meant, but each time he tried to talk to her, she avoided his questions or simply ignored them.

She was such an infuriating woman! But there was something about her that was more than just beauty or her long, auburn hair. Suddenly, the shadow from the large arch they had just passed through broke his chain of thought and invited him to carefully inspect his surroundings. As they rode farther, Havendar could see they had passed into a walled area. The walls were made of a light color rock that reached thirty feet high. From the appearance of the gateway and walls, this was not just a large city – this was a fortress of importance.

They rode for another hour before the wagon stopped. This city must be enormous, Havendar thought. Occasionally, over the last hour, he could see bits and pieces of the protecting wall, but never in his life had he ever seen or heard of a city this large.

It wasn't long before the guard opened the door of the wagon. One by one, the fighters stepped out of the wagon, the chains of their shackles rattling as each of the prisoners took the long, last step onto the ground. Behind Havendar, the walls of a large building rose from the ground sixty or seventy feet. A large doorway, maybe thirty feet wide, provided an entrance.

The guard motioned for them to follow, but as he walked toward the entrance to the building, he really didn't know where he was going. It wasn't until one of the men standing in the entranceway shouted to the guard, "Are those slaves for the arena fights?" that Havendar realized they were indeed in the right place.

As the guard nodded, the man at the entrance shouted, "Bring them over here!" With this confirmation, the guard led the prisoners with purpose. They followed the man through several corridors until arriving at a large holding cell. Upon entering the cell, their shackles were removed. Inside the cell, were the makings of a dormitory; several of the beds were already occupied.

Havendar looked around and noticed one of the beds in a corner was empty. He decided that was where he would rest. He lay down on the bed to establish it as his place, and the others in his company followed, most of them selecting beds next to him. Against one of the walls, was a large bowl where fresh water spilled into it from a hole in the wall. Cupping his hands under the flowing water, Havendar took several drinks.

"Have any of you ever fought in this arena?" one of the men asked. No one in the group had. "Then let me give you a couple of tips," he continued. "When the sun comes up over the upper rim walls, do not allow the people you are fighting to get between you and that wall. Many of the experienced fighters will try to draw you into fighting with the sun in your eyes. Stay to their sides, so the sun shines against the side of your face. Circle away from the sunshine."

The man speaking was laying on one of the beds. Havendar walked toward the man, and as he did so, the older man got up. As Havendar approached, the man extended his left hand. Havendar responded by extending his left arm as well. The man firmly grasped Havendar's elbow. "I am called Noblem," he said.

"Havendar," the ranger replied, as he grasped the man's elbow. He was about to explain to the man that he had a dear friend called Noblem, but when he went to do so, the man looked down at Havendar's arm, seeing the ranger tattoos on Havendar's arm. "Ranger!" Noblem said. As Noblem pulled back the sleeve of his shirt, Havendar could see a ranger tattoo on his forearm, as well.

"Thank you for your advice," Havendar replied.

Tarrie watched the exchange between Havendar and Noblem. While she didn't understand all the subtleties, she did understand there was a lot more said than the words spoken. For some reason, there was an unspoken camaraderie. Tarrie could see that Havendar believed his new acquaintance was important, and if this man was important to Havendar, he was important to her. She would do what was needed to give the two men more opportunity to talk.

Yron and Brelyah stopped several times, as they rode across the prairie. Ahead, Yron could see dust rising from the prairie floor. He wanted to be careful, but he suspected that it was King Timon's army heading to meet up with Lord Kimberlee and the citizens from Yemenor. Bringing the horses to a stop, Yron tried to decide whether he wanted to engage the approaching army or let them pass by when off to the side, a forward scout spotted them.

They had gotten too close. Yron sighed. He knew better than to do that, but now there was no choice but to accept his mistake. Yron raised his hands, Brelyah followed. Two of the scouts drew their bows and leveled them at Yron and Brelyah. The lead scout demanded to know who they were and what they were doing. "We are traveling to Benflyn Dor to meet up with King Timon," Yron replied.

"Two days ago, I met with Lord Baintor and delivered a message to him from Lord Kimberlee. He will remember me," Yron continued. "We have a message from Lord Kimberlee for King Timon."

The lead scout ordered them to follow so that he could check on their story. As Yron and Brelyah rode behind the lead scout, several scouts followed with their bows drawn.

They rode for thirty minutes before the lead scout ordered them to wait as he continued. It took another fifteen minutes before the man returned. "Follow me," he commanded. Yron and Brelyah followed the scout leader until they came to a larger tent. When they stopped, Lord Baintor stepped out of the tent. The commander immediately recognized Yron and dismissed the scout leader.

"If you want to set up camp with us, you are more than welcome," Lord Baintor said before he reentered the tent. "Otherwise you are free to go."

"We will travel to the back edge of the camp and rest there. That way we can get an early start without disrupting anyone," Yron replied. With the Lord's approval, the two rode through the camp. Yron was surprised at how few were sent to protect the citizens fleeing from Yemenor.

They found a small ravine in which to set up camp. Yron could see the scorched remains of a fallen tree, which would provide them with good, dry wood for a small fire. He figured the depth of the ravine would provide a barricade to block the light from the fire and shelter from the wind.

Yron set up his bedroll and sat down to eat some of the dried food he carried with him. Across the fire, he could see Brelyah doing the same. She has not been talking much, he thought, but they had traveled long and hard today. Perhaps she is tired.

The blue tunic he had repaired from the cave had been on his mind all day. As he pulled it from his pack, he checked the repaired section. The repair was good, but the idea that it required a spell to repair plate mail still had him confused. Yron pulled the knife from his belt and stabbed it into the hem on the bottom of the tunic. It didn't cut.

Laying the tunic on the ground, he raised his knife and stabbed at it again with the same effect. This tunic is a kind of armor, he thought. But if it is armor, why was the black arrowhead able to penetrate it? Yron searched through the bag until he found the black arrowhead. As he applied the tip of the arrowhead to the hem of the tunic, it sliced through the garment with ease. Yron used the arrowhead on the tunic in two more places, observing similar results.

The arrowhead cut through his tunic's hem just as easily. As he looked around the camp, the only metal Yron could see was the shin guard on the saddle that Brelyah was using. Taking the arrowhead, Yron pressed it against the shin guard and, with little effort, the tip pierced the armor designed to protect the rider's shin.

This was a type of metal Yron had never seen. Perhaps, he thought, I did not test the arrowhead for magic. Placing the arrowhead on the ground, he cast a Detect Magic spell on it with no result. Hmmm, he thought, it has not been magically enhanced. This was something he would need to show and discuss with Raaj.

Yron again weaved a Repair spell on the blue tunic. It only took a few minutes this time, as he now knew how to do it. Next, Yron decided to investigate the unique coolness of the garment. Taking the edge of the tunic, Yron placed it against one of the rocks that surrounded the fire. After a few minutes, he pulled the tunic back, and even though the rock was too hot to touch, the blue tunic was still as cool as it had been before he placed it on the rock.

Yron continued to test the tunic by throwing his knife at it, then placing the tunic on a log so he could swing a sword against it. Still nothing, but the black arrowhead seemed to penetrate the garment. He checked it again for magic; it was not magically enhanced either. None of this made any sense to Yron. Where did that fallen soldier get this armor, and more importantly, where had the black arrowhead come from?

With armor like this, it made no sense to Yron not to wear it as protection. He removed his leather vest and shirt and slipped the blue tunic over his bare skin. It was cool to the touch, but after he placed his shirt and vest over the blue tunic, the temperature of the tunic seemed to change. Except for how soft the tunic felt against his skin, Yron couldn't tell any difference between the presence or absence of the tunic, so tailored was its fit and light its weight.

Yron didn't realize how long he had been investigating the tunic until he noticed that the fire was starting to burn out. It was getting late, and while Yron wanted to study and understand the weapons and items he had collected, he knew it was time to lie down for the night. Brelyah was already asleep, and Ky had lost interest in what he was doing a few hours ago. The Familiar had found a place up on the rim of the gulley where he was able to watch across the prairie. Nearby, Tristina and Brelyah's horse were grazing on the tall grass.
Chapter 33

Raaj was two hours away from the old Yemenite castle. He knew the shadow along the tree line would provide excellent cover as he approached, above Abinya scouted ahead. Unfortunately, when Raaj used the Familiar Vision spell he couldn't ride as fast as he normally did. The Familiar Vision spell required so much concentration that he feared losing his balance while he rode.

In the distance, the old castle spires were visible. Bringing Verser to a stop, Raaj focused on what he could see through Abinya's eyes. There were three horses in the old courtyard, but from what Raaj could see, the scouts were not in any of the towers. There was the possibility that the scouts had become lax and had stopped scouting from their lookout, but Raaj figured there was more to it than that.

It wasn't until Raaj called Abinya to circle back toward him to begin a wider search of the surrounding area, that he spotted one of the scouts on a makeshift platform in one of the trees along the tree line. Had Raaj ridden another half mile, he would have found himself directly beneath the scout's platform.

He found another of the scouts in a clump of trees a few hundred yards away from the old castle. Raaj grew concerned when he couldn't find the third scout, but his initial worry was eased when he realized that neither of the men on their platforms were on alert. Both scouts were sitting and relaxing, seemingly without a concern in the world.

Clearly, it was not safe to ride further west, so Raaj directed Abinya to circle above the prairie floor as he slowly drifted farther and farther west. It took several hours before Raaj found a portion of the army camped just inside the tree line. If it hadn't been for the campfires, he probably wouldn't have spotted them.

Farther west, Raaj could see that large sections of trees that were cut down next to the large animal pens had been built to hold some type of animal. His Familiar was just starting to get out of range when Raaj spotted what appeared to be a road leaving the pens and heading farther west. Whatever the Shakarine were bringing to inhabit the pens would be brought down that trail.

The catapults were being built and assembled. They were spread across the prairie in various stages of completion. Large sleds were stacked full of rocks that had been gathered in the near by quarry. The construction of a battering ram was almost complete. All around the area west of the old castle, the Shakarine were camping and preparing for war.

From what Raaj could see, they were still several weeks away from being prepared to march on Yemenor. So far, although realizing the need to wait for the other scouting reports, Raaj was beginning to reevaluate the decision to stay in the castle. The idea had been to stay in the castle to provide enough time for the people to arrive at Benflyn Dor safely – maybe that was no longer necessary. By the time this army was ready to attack the Yemenite castle, the citizens of Yemenor would have arrived at Benflyn Dor.

Raaj had gathered the information he needed; now it was time to head back to Yemenor. He knew he could be back at the castle before nightfall on the second day, but something told him to take the extra day and travel back down the old road that he, Yron, and Darmuth had taken from his homestead. He would then take the regularly traveled road around to the prairie and approach the castle from the south.

Finding the old road was more difficult than he had anticipated, but once he found it, Raaj could get back on Verser and ride down the trail. His Familiar wasn't much help as trees covered most of the road. If there was a break, it was so small that there really was nothing to see. Raaj didn't make as good of time as he had hoped, but it was significantly better time than he had made when he had traveled with Darmuth, Yron, and those half-breed Payleen.

It was almost dusk when Raaj got to the other end of the old road. He was tired and knew this would be a good place to camp. Camping a few hundred feet off the road would allow Raaj to keep an eye on the foot traffic that used the main road without being spotted.

Abinya rested on a tree limb above, and Verser lay down near where Raaj had placed his bedroll. After casting a couple of silent Alarm spells on the roadway, Raaj felt safe knowing that he would be notified if anyone was traveling on the road.

The sun wasn't even up when Sartura awakened the camp and helped them start preparing to leave. Scouts were sent out to bring in all the sentries. The horses were hitched to the wagons and catapults. Soon enough, they were moving out. Sartura didn't give the reason for the early rise, but Lord Jentree believed it was because she felt they were behind schedule; there was a great urgency to get to Benflyn Dor.

They had ridden a little over an hour before the sun peered over the eastern horizon. Ahead, the prairie was divided by a large forest of trees. Lord Jentree could see that Sartura was looking for something. Finally, after thirty minutes, she stopped the column.

"I need a horse," she requested.

"Lord Jentree, see how the prairie bends there and heads east?" Sartura questioned.

Lord Jentree nodded.

"Lead the column there, and if I am not back, I want you to follow the tree line as it heads east," Sartura continued. "Eventually, it will turn to the south. Once you get to the large prairie on the other side, head due south."

By the time she finished giving instructions to Lord Jentree, the horse she requested was saddled and ready. A few minutes later she was riding hard across the prairie heading toward the forest to the south of them.

Lord Jentree continued watching Arutras ride across the prairie until he was out of sight. They would travel another two hours before they would stop to rest and eat. Sartura knew her departure was sudden and likely misunderstood, but there was something she needed to do. She headed directly south toward the trees. From there, she traveled west along the tree line. She was looking for the rock formation that she remembered her brother showing her once when they were heading toward the games in Caprena. She had completely forgotten until the morning sun had cast its shadows against the tree, causing a flood of memories.

It was the dream of her brother Prince Purstar, which she had in the middle of the night that brought back the memories of this place. Sartura remembered the day she met the Oracle as though it had been yesterday. It was six years ago; she was only ten. Her brother and Lord Myningar had brought her with them when they went to see the old Oracle. It was the first time Prince Purstar had fought in the tournament games, and Lord Myningar had suggested they stop to visit the Oracle on the way. He thought perhaps the Oracle could give Prince Purstar insight for the games.

While Sartura didn't know what the Oracle had told her brother, she did remember their discussion provided Prince Purstar with great comfort. He was more confident, determined, and convinced that he would win the tournament.

Sartura tried hard to remember everything – the exact details of what had happened that day. She recalled the Oracle looking at her and passing her a sealed note for her to read on her fifteenth birthday. She had kept the note locked safely in a box in her room until she turned fifteen. On the morning of her birthday, the first thing she did was open her box and read the note.

To her great disappointment, Sartura remembered the insignificance of the note. "You will know the day you need to seek me out," was all it said. It was only 14 months ago that she had read that note, and it was not until today, as she was marching down the hill, that the impact of the message was felt.

With the memory came inspiration; Sartura realized today was the day she needed to seek out the Oracle. It took her over an hour riding along the forest edge before she spotted the rock formation that marked the entrance to the trail leading to the small cottage.

Sartura led the horse down the trail a few hundred feet and tied it to a tree. The trail was overgrown. She figured it had been years since the last person had traveled to visit the Oracle. As she walked down the trail cutting back the overgrowth, Sartura was filled with thoughts of turning back, but each time she stopped to turn around, something drove her onward.

As Sartura crossed the small stream that led to the neatly manicured cottage, the aged Oracle walked out the door, "Sartura, I knew you would be here today. I have some tea for you. Tankerine tea – that is your favorite, yes?

"I see you read my note," the Oracle continued, her wispy, gray hair blowing in the slight breeze. "Today you came to learn more about you." Sartura was about to disagree, but inside she knew that was exactly why she was there. She was seeking the same determination and comfort her brother had received when he visited the Oracle. Her life seemed to be one great contradiction. She had to be who she was, but she not allowed to be what she was. Sartura figured if anyone could help her understand, it would be the Oracle.

"We do not have much time," the Oracle explained. "You will be needed shortly, and you will have to return to the place from which you came. After you return, we will talk further."

"Soon you and your brother will fight as one. Do not resist this," the Oracle stated. The confusing statement was followed by another and another, until Sartura's mind was reeling with the magnitude of the unfamiliar and the almost-but-not-quite understood proclamations the Oracle had shared. Sartura couldn't tear her gaze away from the old woman's eyes – she was lost in their depths, and her body felt weak.

All she could do was listen. Eventually, the Oracle ended solemnly, "Those who are your trusted friends and allies today will not always remain such, and those who are your enemies today will become your most trusted friends and allies. The prophecies of days gone by are bound to repeat themselves. It will be the touch of a reluctant wizard that will win your heart and save the day."

As the Oracle stopped gazing into Sartura's eyes, the Princess could feel her strength returning. The words of the Oracle, though extensive, had etched themselves into her mind. As she prepared to leave, she could tell the experience she had with the Oracle had caused the older woman great exhaustion. Sartura leaned forward, touching the Oracle on her knee, "Can I get you something?" she asked.

"No... No... there is nothing you can do. I just need a few minutes for my strength to return. Now you must go. You will be needed soon," the Oracle stated matter-of-factly.

Sartura stood and started toward the door. When she turned to check on the Oracle, the woman was gone. Sartura tried to see where the Oracle had gone, but the words, "You will be needed soon," echoed through her mind. Sartura felt an urgency to return to her men.

As she ran down the trail toward her horse, the branches and vines that she had not cut back tore at her clothing and bare skin. It was as if something was trying to prevent her from getting out of the forest. With great effort, she finally made it to her horse. Sartura quickly climbed onto the mount and rode the rest of the way down the trail.

When she turned to look back, the trail had closed in upon itself as though the trail had never existed. The rock outcropping that had marked the trail was gone. The Oracle had mentioned Sartura would return, but without the telltale signs of the path, Sartura was not sure how that would be possible. Shaking her head at the mystery, Sartura focused on the present and was once again assailed by the feeling of urgency. Sartura needed to leave quickly. She didn't know why; she just knew she needed to leave.

It took her over four hours to catch up with her men. While the Oracle had prophesied to Sartura, Lord Jentree had led the men around the forest and started heading across the prairie as he had been instructed. It was late afternoon before she caught up with them. While it only seemed like a few minutes, Sartura's time with the Oracle must have taken hours.

As she rode up to the column, nothing looked out of place. Lord Jentree was walking with a slight limp, but he was heading due south, exactly as she had directed him. Dropping off her horse, she ran the last few feet to catch up and walk alongside the young Lord.

"It is nice of you to join us," he said with a smile. "Were you able to finish what you set out to do this morning?" he asked.

Sartura didn't know how to respond, so she just walked along beside him. She was glad he didn't ask again. They had walked another half mile when Lord Jentree turned to Sartura and asked, "Don't you think one of the men would like to ride that horse if all you are going to do is lead it behind you?"

Sartura was embarrassed. She was so caught up in trying to understand what the Oracle had meant that she had forgotten all about the horse. "Oh, you are so right. Here," she said, as she handed the reins of the horse to one of the men walking beside them. "Ride if you want, or find someone who wants to."

She hadn't turned her back for more than a few seconds when Lord Jentree let out an earth-shattering scream. The Lord had fallen and was lying on the ground clutching his leg. Still attached to his knee was a Cantre snake. Its poison was known to kill in a few seconds. Sartura's reflexes kicked in, and she quickly pulled her knife from her belt and cut off the snake's head. Using the knife blade, she cut the muscles that held the snake's jaw together. As she did so, she was able to pull back the fangs of the snake and toss its head to the ground.

"Get me water, lots of it!" she ordered. With her knife, she sliced Lord Jentree's pant leg open and then made an incision across the wounds. Higher on the leg, she made another incision, opening the main artery in the leg. "We can't let the poison get to the heart," she said. While one of the men poured water on the open wound where the snake had bitten, Sartura massaged the area around the wound, causing the blood to pour out.

While she was massaging, attempting to get out as much poison out as possible, she began the Healing chant she had heard the Healers use on her brother. The whole column had stopped, and most of the men were standing around Sartura watching her work on Lord Jentree. "I need a red-hot iron," she ordered. "Someone get a fire started and heat up the blade of my knife," she continued, as she tossed the knife to the ground nearby.

"We will camp here," she ordered, "No cooking fires," she continued. "Some of you must take care of the wounded. In my bag over there, you will find the leaves you used on your blisters. Take care of your feet."

By the time she had seared the wound and sewn up the places where she had cut the young Lord to keep the poison from reaching his heart, it was well after dark. He was still alive, which was a good sign, but she would need to continue his care. It will be a long night, she thought.

The scouts stationed at the outlook kept King Timon up to date with the progress of Cerdon and his people as they crossed the prairie. The group had broken into two sections, with the first group moving faster than the second group.

By the time the first group – consisting of people riding two to a horse – arrived, all the lifts had been reassembled. Lord Og had a small team at the bottom of the lift organizing each lift as the horses, their packs, and the people riding them were lifted to the top of the plateau.

The addition of new horses gave Lord Og the ability to rest the horses he had used through the night. This also meant the three larger lifts would be able to raise heavier items since he could attach more horses to the yokes.

It took another three hours before the remainder of Cerdon's people arrived. King Timon requested that Cerdon be brought to him once he arrived. They needed to deal with the logistics of where to put everyone. King Timon met Cerdon, as he stepped off the lift at the plateau's summit. The two men rode to the south to search for a place for the people of Rathor to camp. If Cerdon agreed, King Timon had a place in mind that provided some privacy but was far enough from the cliff to prevent problems for the children.

By the time King Timon and Cerdon arrived, their men had one of the wells functioning and were working on three others. Two men were drafting water from the well into the basin. The next well that would be functional could provide water for the animals.

Cerdon was grateful and appreciative for the consideration King Timon had given concerning where to place his people. As the men rode back to the lifts, they discussed setting up a council to guide the affairs of the people living on the plateau, and how they would deal with issues that would inevitably come up.

King Timon explained that the people from Yemenor were on the march to the plateau, he was expecting them within the week. The main body of his army would be arriving with them. The King explained that he expected that before long, there would be many other citizens from the kingdoms scatter across the High Plains that would be arriving as well.

As the two men rode they discussed all the things they needed to do. There were fences that needed to be built to keep livestock away from the general population, trees cut to make room for farmland, repair the water and waste projects, building shelters, build defense structures, place lookout posts around the perimeter, and exploring the rim to ensure an enemy couldn't find a way to get their army onto the plateau unexpectedly.

The two men decided they would meet daily and assign work details to their people so the work that needed to be done would begin in an orderly manner and be completed quickly. They would send scouts around the perimeter to determine and secure the safety of the people on the plateau. Cerdon could see the command center in the final stages of construction and knew that was where they agreed to meet the next morning.

After the tour of the immediate area, King Timon and Cerdon rode back to the lifts to check on the progress of transporting Cerdon's people to the top of the plateau. King Timon watched for a while then excused himself. He hadn't seen his son in two days and felt the need to be with him today.

As King Timon sat on the bench next to the Prince, he could hear Cerdon directing his people to assemble in their designated area. King Timon reflected on the events of the day. When Master Raajanaar's messenger had delivered word of the impending attack on Yemenor, he figured it was only his kingdom that had been attacked, but from what Cerdon had said, the attacks were not just against the people of the high plains.

Something had caused the low-landers to attack. Something had united them. King Timon knew peace could only be found if they were able to discover what had caused war across Carbynarah.

More confusing to him was that this was the jubilee year when all the people in the lands gathered for the grand games. The jubilee year had been set aside as a year of peace. All wars were to be suspended, and the whole earth was to rejoice and come together for the celebration of their ancient victory over Lord Malkanard in the Shadow Wars.

Benflyn Dor was considered a part of King Timon's Kingdom, and he was the protector of this sacred land, so he was surprised that Cerdon and the people of Rathor would be traveling to Benflyn Dor to seek refuge, especially without asking permission or notifying him of their intentions. For years, the Grand Council of Yemenor had talked about and debated endlessly the possibility of moving their city to Benflyn Dor. Perhaps this was the time to make that move.

It was the sound of another alarm, from one of the outlooks, which jolted King Timon from his thoughts. As he left the wagon where he was resting with his son, he tried to see which outlook had sounded the alarm. He knew that when an alarm was sounded, the outlook tower that signaled the alarm would post the flag colors that had been assigned to that specific outlook. All the other towers would then post the same color as the original outlook. This would give everyone the ability to know which outlook had sounded the alarm.

Unfortunately, the nearest tower showed no flag, so there was no way for the King to know who had sounded the alarm. So King Timon headed for the entrance to the plateau. Perhaps Lord Og would know what was happening.

As the King arrived at the entrance of the plateau, he could see that people were rushing around. Cerdon was nowhere to be found. Below, the wagons and people that were backed up, waiting to be lifted. All but one of the lifts were bringing people and supplies to the top of the plateau. The one lift that was not in the process of lifting supplies was sitting below. No one was trying to load it; in fact, no one was even manning the lift.

When the King asked one of the lift operators where Lord Og was, the man pointed toward the northeastern part of the plateau and said that a messenger had come from Cerdon's camp to fetch him. Both men had immediately run to the camp. Since there was no place to ride a horse over the terrain, King Timon dismounted his horse and ran in the northeastern direction to look for Lord Og.

As King Timon dashed down the stairway leading to a small plateau, he could see several men standing near one of the rock formations. As he approached, he saw Lord Og walking out of a hole in the wall, holding a torch. Behind him, Cerdon and two other men followed. Several children were standing near the entrance.

Upon seeing the King, Lord Og handed the torch he was holding to one of the men standing near the hole in the wall. He walked toward the King and explained, "We have found what appears to be a library. One of the children over there was playing down in this area and somehow bumped something or moved something that caused the door in this wall to open."

"Their curiosity overcame them, and they started to explore. Without torches or any kind of light, one of the children got lost. The other children told their parents, who told Cerdon what happened. When he explained the problem to me, I sounded the alarm. Quickly, we got torches and formed a search party. We have not found the missing child, but what we have found is a room filled with scrolls, very old scrolls, probably writing from the times of the Shadow Wars."

As the two men were talking, another man came running out of the room holding a child – a little boy who was not moving. When the man got outside, he set the child on the ground and placed a scroll that he was holding in his hand next to the child. King Timon was the first to get to the side of the boy. He turned to one of the men and ordered him to get a Healer. The child wasn't dead, but he wasn't responding either.

The eyebrows, eyelashes, and most of the hair were singed off. His clothing had been burned as well, yet there were no burn marks on the skin that King Timon could see. The scroll alongside the boy was burnt as well. In fact, there was very little paper left on the wooden dowels the scroll was rolled around.

When the Healer arrived, she studied the child then immediately requested help to move him to her tent. Turning to King Timon, she said, "I believe this was a Magical Trap spell, which caused a flash fire. The purpose of the trap is to destroy the scroll if someone were trying to open it and didn't know the Trap Release spell."

King Timon posted guards at the entrance and ordered, "No one is to enter this room without my permission. I want it guarded at all times." He turned to Cerdon saying, "There is no way to tell what other dangers are here on the plateau. Please warn your people that if they find something unusual, they must notify someone at once and should not attempt to explore it on their own. I will do the same with my people."

"You don't, by chance, have a wizard traveling with you, do you?" the King asked Cerdon hopefully.

Cerdon shook his head, "All of our wizards went with the army to aide in the fighting."

King Timon sighed, although he had expected the answer. He couldn't wait for Master Raajanaar to finally arrive from Yemenor. This library, clearly hidden for a reason, would have to be another thing he would discuss with the wizard, but any discussion about the library would have to wait until after the Inset spell had been cast. King Timon climbed the staircase and headed back toward the lifts. Lord Og asked him if he wanted him to run the lifts all night again.

Turning toward Cerdon, who had been following him, King Timon asked, "Would you mind if we bring all the people up tonight and wait until tomorrow to bring the remainder of your wagons, supplies, and equipment?"

"That should be fine," Cerdon replied. "We will post guards and have some scouts acting as sentries away from the cliff edge to warn us if someone is approaching."

The King pointed toward several large bonfire stacks placed around the entrance area saying, "We placed those there so if someone does approach at night, we can set them ablaze, and our archers will be able to use the light from the fires to stop any intruders."

"Our efforts, coupled with yours, should be enough to protect what we cannot bring onto the plateau before nightfall," Cerdon stated.

Reaching for Cerdon's left arm, the King said, "Until the morning." With that, the two men went their separate ways. Knowing the amount of work that faced them, Cerdon found it surprising that King Timon was heading off to his camp – seemingly, to retire for the evening – there were four hours of daylight left.
Chapter 34

Sartura had chanted the Healing spell all through the night. By morning, Lord Jentree was still unconscious and thrashing about in a cold sweat, his knee, still swollen, and he had a fever, but he was alive. They needed to keep moving toward Benflyn Dor, but Sartura was concerned that the jostling from riding in the wagon would be to Lord Jentree's detriment.

As Sartura struggled with what to do, she could hear the camp preparing to march. It had rained during the night, which would mean the column wouldn't be creating a dust cloud. This was fortunate, as it would now be more difficult for enemy forces to spot them traveling across the prairie. Although the rain had cleared the air, Sartura couldn't see the high cliffs of Benflyn Dor.

Before they started, Sartura ordered one of the small wagons to be brought to the front of the column and unloaded; its cargo distributed among the other wagons. Stringing some rope across the now-empty wagon walls, she created a hanging hammock-type bed for Lord Jentree. It was all she could think of doing to protect the Lord from further injury as they journeyed on.

Sartura needed two volunteers riding with Lord Jentree. The men would have to constantly place water-soaked rags on his forehead and wound and warn her if there was a change in his condition. She was surprised when none of Lord Jentree's men volunteered for the assignment. Seconds later, two men from her command stepped forward and volunteered to help the ailing Lord.

It took a little longer to get moving toward Benflyn Dor than Sartura had hoped for, but considering the situation, she was pleased they were on the move. Sartura was tired. She wanted to be riding a horse today, but it was not a luxury that she could afford.

The prairie stretched out as far as she could see to the south with nothing blocking its way. Sartura kept an eye out for any indication of a stream crossing the prairie, so they could get fresh water to fill the barrels. She knew the water they had would last for several more days, but fresh water would be cooler and help with Lord Jentree's fever. Behind her, she could hear the wagons getting closer as she walked.

It was only then that she realized she had slowed her pace. Looking around, hoping no one had noticed, Sartura focused more on leading the march than all the other things that had been running through her mind.

There was something the Oracle said that still confused her. At that thought, Sartura chuckled to herself, Who am I kidding? Everything the Oracle said confused me. However, the one thing that was the most frustrating was the statement, "When defeat is imminent, victory is possible because of THE one." She later said, "But, in victory, all will be lost, except hope." Sartura wondered if the two victories were the same victory or different victories.

"Arutras, Lord Jentree is awake," one of the men interrupted her pondering, as he rode up to her on his horse. Sartura had been so deep in thought she didn't even hear the rider approach, causing his words to startle her.

"You take the lead," Sartura said, "and keep us heading due south." She turned and started walking back to the wagon that was carrying Lord Jentree. When she arrived, the Lord was trying to sit up, while those who were caring for him were insisting that he stay resting.

As Sartura climbed into the wagon, Lord Jentree's protest went silent, and he lay back on the hanging bed. When he saw Arutras climb into the wagon, he knew he would get a verbal thrashing for his behavior, and he did. The men who had been caring for him explained to Sartura how he had been acting, he could see from her glare she didn't approve.

Placing his arm over his eyes was the only relief he could find from Arutras' glare, but even with that small bit of relief, he could feel her eyes boring through his arm. He couldn't keep his arm over his eyes for long, however, because he could feel the bandages being unwrapped from his wound, and the pain was intense. Glancing up, he realized it was Arutras, who was removing the bandaging. He promised himself that under no circumstances would he utter a sound of complaint.

The wound was infected, as Sartura had feared would be the case. They needed spirits to pour on the wound to stop the infection. The problem was that if anyone had any alcohol, there was no way they would admit it. It was against the code of the army and a flogging offense.

Thinking about the predicament, Sartura decided they would stop for lunch. As they stopped, she placed a canvas over the back of the wagon where Lord Jentree lay. Gathering all the company together, she announced there was a need for alcohol to stop the infection in Lord Jentree's leg.

Sartura explained that there was a canvas drooping over the back of the wagon that housed Lord Jentree. She wanted the soldiers in the company to walk by the wagon, and if anyone had spirits to contribute, he could place it under the canvas. Anyone who didn't have any should act as though he did and pretend to place something under the canvas. She wanted the men to space themselves twenty feet apart so no one could see what anyone else was doing.

"Now every one of you go to your personal belongs. If you have alcohol, get it. If you don't, pretend you do," Sartura ordered.

Thirty minutes later when all the men had walked by the wagon, there were two flasks of alcohol under the canvas. Sartura moved the two flasks forward across the bed of the wagon, hiding them in a corner of the front of the wagon under some blankets. When she lifted the canvas off the wagon, there was nothing for anyone to see.

"We will have to find something else to stop the infection," she announced. She didn't want anyone to know someone that was fighting next to them was violating one of the rules. If her men knew alcohol had been found, she feared there would be some mental witch-hunting as people tried to decide which of them was violating the rules.

After everyone had rested and eaten, it was time to move onward. Initially, Sartura led the column, but after they traveled for about half an hour, she asked one of the other men to lead. She wanted to go back and check on Lord Jentree. When she climbed into the wagon, Lord Jentree greeted her with a forced smile.

Reaching down, she grabbed one of the flasks. Taking the top off the bottle, she smelled the contents. It was indeed spirits. Very strong spirits, she thought. She grabbed one of the rags in the corner of the wagon and shoved it in Lord Jentree's mouth. "I don't want to hear a sound from you. Bite hard," she ordered. With that, she exposed the wound and poured half of the contents of the flask over it. No one else could hear the scream from Lord Jentree as he leaped up and grabbed his leg; Sartura knew the wound needed to be cleaned from the infection, and there was no other way to do it.

The color of Lord Jentree's foot was good, and there wasn't much swelling around the ankle, so Sartura figured he would make it to Benflyn Dor. "Apparently that water had some infection cleansing properties. You are lucky," she said, glancing at the Lord.

As she prepared to climb down from the wagon, Sartura looked to the south one more time. In the distance, she could see their destination – the cliffs of Benflyn Dor. From where she was standing, she could see that about a half mile to the west was what appeared to be the wagon trail her father had used when he traveled to the plateau.

Calling for one of the scouts, she requested him to head west and check to see if he could find the trail that her father had used to get to Benflyn Dor. If she were correct, following the trail her father had taken would make their travel much easier. Ten minutes later, the scout returned to confirm that the wagon trail headed directly toward the plateau.

Sartura dropped from the wagon and caught a ride with the scout to the front of the column. Within half an hour, they had the entire column on the trail that was cutting across the prairie heading toward Benflyn Dor. The wagons and catapults were making better time following the wagon path. Calling two of the scouts forward, Sartura knew it was time to notify her father that they were on their way and would be at the base of the cliff by nightfall. Once she handed them the message, the scouts headed for Benflyn Dor.

It was mid-afternoon before they stopped a second time. The cliffs that made up Benflyn Dor were dominating the landscape in front of them. While the group traveled, Sartura had kept her eye on Lord Jentree. The infection in his leg seemed to be easing, and the swelling in his ankle had gone down. He seemed to be doing much better, but she needed to get him to her father's Healers as soon as possible. Perhaps they should divide the group into two units, sending the horsemen and wagons ahead and keeping the foot soldiers with the catapults.

By doing this, Lord Jentree could get the attention from a Healer a couple of hours earlier than if he had to wait for the slow-moving catapults. It only took a few seconds for Sartura to make up her mind – she would divide the group in half. The wagons and horses would travel ahead, and she would follow with the catapults and foot soldiers. Two scouts were sent to Benflyn Dor to notify her father of their arrival, and the need for a healer once the wagons carrying Lord Jentree arrived.

The wagon drivers were instructed to ride hard but not leave anyone behind. Within half an hour, the wagons were over a mile ahead. She could see in the faces of her men that they were exhausted and in pain. Their march had been long, hard, and fast. Sartura wanted to make sure they could keep the catapults ahead of Lord Myningar and his army.

As the cliff loomed ahead, it was clear to Sartura they would make it to the plateau before dark. It made her feel good to be delivering Lord Myningar's catapults to her father, so he could use them to protect Benflyn Dor. Her garrison had protected the catapults from the enemy attack, prisoners had been captured, and the wounded were cared for.

She knew her father would never know what she had done, but Lord Myningar would, and that was enough.

From the top of the cliff, Lord Og could see scouts approaching from the north. The speed at which the riders were approaching camp indicated they were probably friendly, but this was war, and it wasn't a time to take any chances. Once the scouts cleared the entrance to Tamar Wayne, the guards were ordered to take them into custody.

Lord Og took the lift down to meet with the scouts. On his arrival at the base of the cliff, he was met by the guards who had taken the scouts into custody. The scouts informed Lord Og that wagons, catapults, and two garrisons of Lord Myningar's army would arrive by nightfall.

One of Lord Og's messengers left to deliver this news to the King when the next lift hoisted a load to the top of the plateau. In the meantime, Lord Og needed to know more about the catapults and wagons. He was sure the lifts that had been built could easily raise the wagon and supplies onto the plateau, but he needed to understand the size and weight of the catapults.

If they were heavy war catapults, they would have to be disassembled, or larger lifts would need to be built. Besides, the road leading to the lifts was only eight feet wide. If these catapults were any wider, he would have to move at least one lift farther out on the cliffs so that he could pick the catapults up off the prairie floor.

Based on the scouts' description, Lord Og knew he was dealing with heavy war catapults and that unless they built a much larger lift, the lifts they had wouldn't be strong enough to bring the catapults from the prairie floor to the top of the plateau in one piece.

The lift that Lord Og had ridden down was prepared to take a load up. Behind the current load, there were two other loads in the queue. It would take another hour to hoist these two loads to the top. Initially, Lord Og decided he would break down the big lift and move it so that he could be prepared for the catapults, but when he realized it would take his men a couple of hours to break down each of the catapults before he could even start to lift them, he changed his mind.

There would be plenty of time for him to hoist the loads in the queue, move the hoist, and have crews ready to break down the catapults so that he could start lifting them. The heavy war catapults would provide a great addition to the defense of the plateau. As the scouts were preparing to leave, Lord Og asked how many catapults there were. "There are eleven," one of the scouts reported.

Eleven, he thought, that would take all night and a large portion of the next day. While they were disassembling the catapults, the wagons would be placed in the queue with the rest of the other wagons, whereas equipment, citizens, and army personnel would take the lift as the space allowed for it. Only when a catapult piece was ready to be lifted would he change the queue to raise the catapult to the top of the plateau as swiftly as possible.

Lord Og knew how important the heavy catapults would be in the defense of Benflyn Dor. The more he thought about it, dismantling, lifting, and reassembling the catapults would take as much time as it would to build a larger lift and lift the catapults in one piece. Calling his engineers together, he made the order to build the larger lift.

Lord Og stood overlooking the clearing of the spot where the new lift would be built. They wouldn't build the lift so it would use the cutback to queue from, this new lift would lift from the prairie floor.

In the distance he could see wagons, accompanied by horsemen, heading toward the plateau. Without a doubt, there would be wagons and supplies left on the prairie floor tonight. He would need to have one lift cleared for the transportation of the wounded as soon as the Yemenite forces from Holben arrived.

Because of the scope of the work, Lord Og planned on working through the night to build the new lift. By morning, they would be able to lift the catapults and remaining supplies to the top.

Once the catapults were lifted to the top of the plateau, King Timon could position them where he saw fit. In the meantime, Lord Og knew he needed to bring the remaining lifts back to the cliff edge, and prepare them for use.

The addition of two garrisons of men would be helpful as well. There was so much work that needed to be accomplished, and it would be nice to have an active army to defend the loading area.

As Yron awoke, he felt the need to get to Benflyn Dor as soon as possible. But he could think of no reason why he couldn't just lie there on his bedroll and listen to the sounds of the morning – the birds' first songs, the sounds of the wind rushing across the tops of the grass, the gentle purring of his Payleen as she ate the top grain-ripened grass stems. He rested his head back on his backpack. A few moments more, I will rest for a few minutes more, he thought.

On the other side of the camp, Brelyah was still asleep, her eyelashes fluttering. She must be dreaming, he thought. Yron couldn't see any reason to awaken her and hoped she was dreaming of more pleasant times.

Meanwhile, Yron decided to study the items he had obtained in the cave. He was determined to figure them out before reaching Raaj. Even though he had cast a Detect Magic spell on the items and had gotten a negative response, Yron knew there was something about them that he wasn't able to understand yet.

As he sat there with the items spread out in front of him, Yron began to wonder if perhaps they were not magically enhanced, but maybe there was something about them that enhanced the items without magic – or perhaps employed a different kind of magic. He pondered the idea, biting his lip in thought.

Brelyah had awakened without Yron noticing. Finally, she asked, "Why the hurry to get back to your King?"

Her question surprised Yron. "Master Raajanaar and I have something the King needs us to do," he responded. "And he is not our King!" Brelyah looked puzzled at his declaration but seemed to accept the statement at face value. She stood, starting to pack her belongings for the day's ride.

"If you are hungry, you can eat while we ride," Yron explained, as he tossed her the pack that held their food. Gathering his belongings and climbing on Tristina, he held the reins for Brelyah while she climbed on her horse. Ky was already fifty feet ahead, looking back, and waiting for Yron and Brelyah to start.

The closer he got to Benflyn Dor, the more Yron thought about the Inset spell. He knew there were questions that needed to be answered and work that needed to be done to finish the spell. He wished Raaj were here – because he wanted to run some ideas by him.

Yron came up with two possible ways to trap the Inset and hold it until they could cast the Inset into the item. Perhaps by placing the plithim on the outside of the box, the koa would hold the Inset and allow it to move from the wood to the sword more easily. His other idea was to seal the plithim box by using the elemental to melt strips of plithim so that the metal would drip into the crack between the lid and the bottom of the box, preventing any possible air gap that could be letting the Inset escape.

There had to be a way to capture the Inset for as long a time as was needed to allow for the sword to be forged, so the King could have an Inset sword with his son's Inset. As they rode toward the plateau, Yron's mind was deep in thought, as he explored possibilities he had never considered before. One thing he couldn't wrap his mind around was the reason the metal for the Inset spell had to be forged under the blue moon.

There had to be a reason for the blue moon, but Yron couldn't think of a reasonable explanation. When he once asked Raaj why it was needed, he didn't answer. When Yron pressed him for the answer, Raaj admitted that his master had taught him the blue moon was needed to cause the plithim to bond with the Inset.

Yron was focused on solving the problems with the Inset box when Brelyah finally broke the silence. "Something ahead of us is causing a lot of dust," she said, pointing ahead.

When Yron looked up, he knew only a large group of people traveling at a fast pace could create a dust trail like that. Whoever was ahead of them was traveling down the same path King Timon's army had just taken. Yron knew this wasn't a time to intercept the advancing forces. After all, they couldn't provide warning to King Timon if they were captured by enemy forces.

They needed to move out of their path and find a place to hide. Unfortunately, Yron was unable to find anything – there were no rock outcrops, trees, or ravines. They were caught in the open. Ahead, Yron could see a small rise in the terrain. He knew he could get Tristina and Ky to lie flat on the ground, but his concern was that Brelyah's horse was not trained for that.

Regardless of the risk, they were out of options. Yron guided the group to the small rise and got Tristina and Ky to lie down. Yron and Brelyah tried to encourage her horse to do the same and be still. A half-mile away, Yron could see the army starting to pass by them. So far so good, Yron thought. Then to the south of them, he could see two scouts riding to the side of the army, heading their way.

Gripping a sword from the bag of stuff he got from the cave, he drew it from its sheath. Perhaps a Distract spell would work. He knew he needed something but couldn't think of a better idea. Yron took a deep breath and cast the spell. He knew the spell didn't have great range with the spell, but if he could just get the scouts to look off toward the army, the scouts would pass by them, as if they were invisible.

As the scouts passed by, Yron noticed they carried the crest of King Timon on their shirts. This wasn't an enemy army after all! It must be additional forces sent by the King to protect his people fleeing from Yemenor. Although the forces were friendly, Yron wasn't in the mood to again explain who he was, and why he was traveling to Benflyn Dor. Fortunately, they kept Brelyah's horse quiet as the scouts continued. Finally, after twenty minutes, Yron relaxed his grip on Brelyah's horse, whispering to his companion that they needed to stay put, but it appeared that they were safe for now.

Brelyah watched as the scouts rode out of sight. "I thought you said you didn't know an Invisibility spell," she said.

"I don't," Yron replied.

"Then what do you call this?" she asked.

Yron turned to look at Brelyah, his mouth dropping open at the sight.

Brelyah was standing next to Yron, but she was ethereal. He could see her, but he was also seeing through her. Yron had experienced this feeling once when Raaj had cast an Invisibility spell on them several years ago while they were traveling to a Mascar, and some rogue bandits were chasing them, trying to steal their belongings.

It wasn't only Brelyah who became invisible but Tristina, Ky, and her horse, as well. Yron was confused. There was no way he had remembered the spell that Raaj had cast, but somehow, he had cast it – unless the spell's caster had been Brelyah. There was something about her Yron had yet to figure out, and maybe this was a clue.

It was then Yron realized Brelyah had a confidence, a unique understanding of magic and felt comfortable around it. Most people feared wizards, yet she found the whole idea interesting and exciting. She knows about magic, he thought, perhaps more than I ever imagined.

He would need to talk to Raaj about this, but right now, he needed to focus on the preparation for and resolving of the issues around the Inset spell. Try as he might, he could not keep focused on the Inset Box; he just couldn't shake thinking about Brelyah and how she had cast the Invisibility spell.

Yron couldn't recall hearing her chant, let alone touching him or the other things the spell had been cast upon. He remembered Raaj explaining the specifics of the Invisibility spell to him. It was important that you touched everything you wanted to be invisible for the spell to be effective. After the incident with the rogues, Raaj showed him that casting an Invisibility spell on a person riding a horse, without touching their horse, would make it appear the horse was standing alone.

Thinking hard, Yron suddenly had a concerning thought. What about Ky? How did she cast a spell on his Familiar? Familiars were resistant to another wizard's magic.

As they lie in the grass while King Timon's army passed by, Yron was unable to put his mind at rest about this whole invisibility thing. He would allow Brelyah to make him think he had cast the spell but would be watching her more closely in the future. Who is she really and why the deception? he wondered.

Once the army passed, Yron and Brelyah resumed their ride toward Benflyn Dor. From Yron's calculations, they were still a couple of days ride away. In the meantime, Yron had a lot to think about. This new revelation about Brelyah only made it harder for him to focus on the developments needed to cast a successful Inset spell on the King's son.

It had been a quiet night. Raaj woke early and found the road heading east. It didn't look like it had been used much, but the memories of the incident with the Warteen on the initial trip to Yemenor were still fresh in his mind. Raaj rode until the sun was high overhead before he found a place to rest where Verser would be able to graze, and he would be able to scout with Abinya.

The spies said the Warteen were going to launch an attack against Yemenor from the south. Raaj was hoping he could find confirmation of the information they had gotten from the Warteen spies about their army. Also, if the Warteen were headed this way, Raaj wanted to make sure they didn't run into the citizens who were fleeing from Yemenor.

Stretching out before him was nothing but prairie. The forest on both sides of the prairie provided a one-mile path from the Central Plain to the south – which butted against the Southern Plains and the southernmost boundary of the High Plains – and the border with the Warteen. To the east, the vast central plains stretched beyond Benflyn Dor. It would be a good seven-day's ride to reach Benflyn Dor from here.

To the north, the forest encroached on both sides to create another pathway that was narrower. This pathway led to Yemenor then angled toward the northeast, eventually leading to northern plains and the northern boundary of the High Plains that bordered the land of the Shakarine.

Raaj watched as Abinya flew over the thin strip of prairie that headed to the south. He could see paths in the grass where people had been riding horses back and forth between the southern and the central prairies. There looked to be a lot of horse traffic on the eastern side of the prairie that connected the central and southern prairies.

As Abinya circled near the eastern edge where the thin strip of grassland met with the central prairie, Raaj could see a horse tied under one of the trees at the prairie's edge. Raaj watched as Abinya dipped low near the ground, flying just above the tops of the prairie grass. He could see there were several horses tied up under the tree canopy. Circling, the eagle landed on one of the trees just above the horses.

Raaj thought there were six or seven men who were camped and watching the activity on the central prairie; however, after observing them for a while, he realized they were Warteen barbarian warriors. From their vantage point, Raaj knew they couldn't see halfway across the central prairie. Even from the tree where Abinya was perched, they wouldn't be able to see over half of the prairie.

Through Abinya's eyes, Raaj couldn't see any trails in the prairie grass indicating the Warteen spies had ventured across the prairie so that they could see more of what was going on. His first instinct was to attempt to capture one of the spies and try to gather more information, but he knew the risk was too great. As he was getting ready to call Abinya back and head north, Raaj noticed that about five hundred feet from the forest edge was a large area where the grass was trampled down.

In the center of the depression, a large stake had been placed and attached to the stake was a chain and large ring. Perhaps they were using giant hawks or maybe even eagles in their effort to spy. As he thought back to those occasions when he had encountered Hawkriders, he tried to remember if any of the riders were women.

Whistling for Verser to return, Raaj decided it was time to head north toward Yemenor. As the black Payleen trotted up to Raaj, the wizard encouraged him to drink from the water bag hanging on one of the low branches of the tree. Calling for his Familiar, Raaj repacked his belongings and was preparing to head across the prairie. Overhead, Raaj heard the call of another hawk. His initial fear was one of the Warteen was actually a wizard with his own Familiar.

However, that fear was eliminated when Raaj saw a Hawkrider descending toward the Warteen camp. As the rider circled closer to the ground, Raaj realized he was right; the stake in the ground near the Warteen camp was used to tie down the large hawks. Of course, there was no reason to scout the central plains by horseback if you could scout from the air.

With the arrival of the Hawkrider, Raaj knew he wouldn't be able to leave until it was dark. He couldn't risk being spotted, let alone captured. Raaj knew the citizens of Yemenor had traveled down the northern corridor so that they could turn east and head toward their rendezvous with King Timon at Benflyn Dor.

He was sure that if the Warteen scouts had seen the Yemenor citizens traveling across the prairie, there would be more activity at their camp. He needed to get back to Yemenor as soon as possible. If he was going to travel through the night, Raaj knew he needed rest. Pushing the underbrush back, he encouraged Verser to enter the forest and hide with him under the tree branches. Rolling out his bedroll, he lay and watched the prairie, hoping to see what the Hawkrider was going to do when he left the Warteen camp.

Raaj wished he could get close enough to investigate whether it was a rider from Maduar who was working with the Warteen, or whether the female barbarians of Warteen had learned the art of Hawk-riding. Either possibility was concerning, but he didn't want to put Abinya at risk to find out.

Lord Myningar had been following Sartura's trail for the last two days. Ahead, he could see Benflyn Dor looming in the distance. He estimated they were still almost a day away from the plateau. Since they left the camp at King Holben's castle, they had been marching hard to catch up with Sartura.

Indeed, she was a great arena fighter, and she had done well in the last three games, placing fourth in the last two. Placing fourth was his bargain with her. He had agreed to train her if, in return, she would never medal in the games. Lord Myningar shuddered to think what his King would say to him if he knew he had been training his daughter in the use of a sword, let alone preparing her to fight competitively.

The memories of little Sartura, with her coal-black hair blowing behind her as the wind passed over her face, brought a smile to his face. The memory of years ago was as fresh in his mind as it was the day she found her brother's knife and had charged toward Myningar holding it in both hands, threatening to cut him to the ground. In those days, it was easy to brush her aside with his hand, as she ran by waving the knife in the air. Today, it was a different story.

Three years ago, he had drawn Sartura to fight in the ninth round. Sartura was first to recognize that they were paired against each other. She realized it after her last fight with the champion of Mortellva who had placed third in the previous tournament. When the scoreboard posted the next pairing, she saw that Lord Myningar of Yemenor was her next draw. That was when she wrapped her right arm in a blood-soaked bandage and went to the scorer's table to announce her inability to continue.

Like her brother Prince Purstar she was a crowd favorite and there was a collective "Awwwww" of disappointment when the reader board notified the crowd of her forfeiture. Many that attended the games believed that if she had been able to continue fighting, she would have fought for the championship. Not many would have given Lord Myningar a chance to defeat her. He wondered how the crowd would have reacted if they had known their beloved Arutras was none other than the only daughter of King Timon, and the sister of the current arena champion.

Resting against his saddle, Lord Myningar started to chuckle at what he imagined the crowd's response would be. It would have been amusing, but what he would have enjoyed most was to see if what he had suspected was true. Lord Myningar believed she had the talent and ability to beat her older brother. Not that he was going to say anything to Sartura about his belief, it would only make her harder to manage, and it would end ugly, with her crowned as the champion and her brother humiliated.

Those that followed the games faithfully believed Arutras was a better swordsman than Prince Purstar too. In fact, they saw it as a great injustice that for the past two years she was forced to forfeit in the semi-final of the match, the first time was due to a technicality. She had failed to have her sword inspected before the match to ensure the weapon was not magically enhanced. The next year she had been held up at the entrance to the arena and didn't arrive until after the match was scheduled to start and was, thus, disqualified.

Several of those that attended the games believed there was a great conspiracy. That somehow the agents who administered the games were not allowing her to fight because she had no title and wasn't sponsored by a royal family. Lord Myningar and Sartura knew if she was going to fight in the arena, she couldn't come from the Yemenite Castle because her father would find out and object. So, like her brother, she fought to become the people's nominated swordsman. By winning the people's tournament prior to the games, she was eligible to participate. She qualified the next two years because she was one of the top ten contestants from the previous games.

Sartura was good because of her speed and accuracy and that played well in arena fighting, but this wouldn't be so if she fought on the battlefield. Two days ago, when they passed the battlefield, Lord Myningar's concern for her wellbeing was overwhelming. He could see the wounded were taken from the battlefield. The only relief this gave him was that the forces of Yemenor had been in a hurry when they departed, leaving their dead on the battlefield – her body was not among the fallen.

It was only after they had caught up with the portion of Lord Jentree's forces that had stayed behind to guard the captured prisoners and care for the wounded, that Lord Myningar learned Sartura was safe and had survived the battle unwounded. The injured soldiers of Sartura's garrison left behind with the prisoners were the ones who detailed how valiantly she had fought. While his concerns for her welfare had not diminished, he couldn't have been prouder of her if he had been her father.

It would be good to catch up with her in the morning, but therein, lay a problem. Who would it be that he addressed? Would it be Arutras, the fierce warrior who by night masqueraded as the King's daughter, or would it be Sartura, the King's daughter who masqueraded by day as a fierce warrior and valued officer in his army?
Chapter 35

The ride to Benflyn Dor was uneventful. Yron used that time to gather a better understanding of the Inset spell. He remembered from his discussions with Raaj that hundreds of years ago the early version of the Inset spell was cast by the individual, as they were about to die. The final action to complete the spell was to utter the last word of the Inset spell. However, once the Inset spell was cast, there was no way to control who would pick up the Inset item and use it to their advantage. If the spell was cast in battle, then the enemies you were fighting could pick up the sword and use it to attack your comrades.

The Inset spell hadn't really changed much over time; it could affect anyone that controlled the Inset item. This was why it was limited to its use the Wizards' Guild. It didn't matter what the Inset item was; an Inset item would aid the user of the Inset item. A good swordsman would become a better swordsman if he was wielding an Inset sword. Someone without swordsman skills whatsoever would become as good a swordsman as the person who was cast into the Inset.

The greatest fear of the Wizards' Guild was for a swordsman to obtain possession of a wizard's Inset; they could then cast magic, as they battled in combat. Many in the Guild felt that if a swordsman ever used an old wizard's Inset in battle, this could nullify The Carta.

Individuals with great skillsets didn't like the idea that a mediocre swordsman could pick up an Inset item and be a better fighter than someone who had practiced the trade for years. For all these reasons, the Inset had become a dying spell over the years. The opportunity to cast the Inset spell on King Timon's son was an anomaly.

The King wanted the spell cast so his older son, who had been one of the best swordsmen in the land, could pass his abilities to his younger brother who would someday become king. The uncoordinated younger brother would possess fighting skills he would never have been able to develop on his own. Yron understood this.

Yron also understood the problems with the Inset spell. One of the problems he had been trying to resolve was how to prevent an Inset item from being picked up by someone and then them having the ability to use the item to enhance their skills in a discipline where they have no knowledge. He didn't want a swordsman to pick up a wizard's Inset ring and then be casting spells. He wanted to make it so that the Inset would only function if he had, at the very least, basic training in magic.

Yron also wanted to change the Inset spell, so instead of the spell simply transferring the ability of the Inset person to the item and from the item to the individual, the abilities of the Inset item would be added to the skills of the individual, without being forced to maintain contact with the Inset item.

As Yron rode, another possibility of the Inset started to formulate in his mind. Could it be possible for two or more Insets to be cast into the same item? He knew that if a person had two Insets, both would provide access to the abilities of the person using the Inset item. That always intrigued him because it would be possible for a person to possess ten different Insets in rings, sword, shield, armor, etc., but if you could cast several Insets into one item...

Each thought built upon another, and before long, Yron began to see a new way of casting the Inset spell which would allow the skillset of the Inset item to be added to the skillset of the user permanently or... perhaps... multiple Insets could be added. As the idea continued to brew within him, he began to think of ways a chant might be created to accommodate the new Inset spell. By the time they stopped for the evening, Yron had developed the idea to the point that he really wanted to try casting the new Inset spell onto something.

A plan emerged. If he could capture a bat, he would cast the Inset spell on the bat and place the Inset of the bat into the small piece of koa wood he had. Perhaps by tying the chunk of koa around Ky's neck, Ky would be able to have the night vision of the bat. By the time they had dinner, Yron had convinced himself that he needed to try the experiment.

It took him a couple of hours to be able to cast a Paralyze spell on one of the bats flying around the camp. By the time he captured the bat, Brelyah had fallen asleep. Placing the bat on a large stone he had found, Yron began the chant and attempted to cast his new Inset spell on the creature, and moving the Inset to the piece of koa. After the spell was cast, Yron was exhausted. He just needed to rest for a second.

When morning came, Yron found himself laying on the ground next to the large stone. He was still exhausted, even though he had rested through the night. The bat he had paralyzed was dead, and the piece of koa was still lying next to the bat. Taking a piece of string from his pack, he picked up the piece of wood so he could tie the string to it. The instant he touched it, he lost his vision. His eyes were ablaze and felt like fire had been poured into them.

Yron reached for his eyes with his hands, dropping the chunk of wood to the ground. The pain eased and eventually left. His vision was back to normal. Looking around, he found the piece of koa he had dropped lying next to his feet and reached for it. Again, as soon as he touched the koa, his eyes felt like fire again.

It must be the Inset on the koa, Yron thought. Perhaps that's why you don't see bats during the day. I can hardly blame them! The brightness of the sun must be creating the same reaction in me as it does to them.

Hmmm... he thought. He reached down and picked up the piece of wood with a piece of leather from his pack. As long as the koa wasn't touching his skin, it didn't affect him. Slipping the piece of koa into his pack, he decided he would try using it the next night.

Once Brelyah had awoke, Yron was ready to continue their ride southeast. It was just after noon that Yron could finally see the cliffs of Benflyn Dor rising in the distance from behind the trees. They were beautiful, more than he ever imagined. The closer he got, the better he understood why Lord Malkanard was never able to breach the plateau. As he watched the cliffs rise higher and higher with each mile they traveled, Yron decided to ride along the tree line until they reached the base of the cliffs, then follow the cliff to the east until they found King Timon and the access to the top of the plateau.

The experiment of the night before was on his mind most of the day. He was excited to see if the Inset of the bat was on the piece of koa. If so, he knew two things: the Inset spell didn't need to be cast onto plithim that had been forged during the blue moon, it could be cast at any time; and two, the Inset could be cast onto organic matter. The exhaustion he had felt last night was still lingering with him as he rode. It was very hard for him to keep his eyes open. If only he could take a nap...

Raaj lie awake on his bedroll watching the sun disappear as though it fell behind on the tops of the trees. He had gotten some much-needed rest. Before it was too late, he needed to satisfy his curiosity. Is the Hawkrider still tied to the stake on the prairie? He called on Abinya to take flight and scan the Warteen camp.

It didn't take long for Abinya to travel to the forest on the other side of the thin strip of prairie grass that connected the two large prairies. The hawk was still fastened to the post located a short distance from the camp. There was a small fire burning, and several people were sitting around it. All of them were women – it was not a Maduar Hawkrider after all.

No one appeared to be watching the prairie, but everyone seemed to be involved in some game they were playing. It appeared each person was holding two sticks, one in each hand, attempting to pass a rock between them.

This was all Raaj needed to feel it was safe for him to leave. As he helped Verser leave the wooded area, he placed his pack and stirrups on his Payleen's back and started to ride. He rode slowly at first, looking over his shoulder and with the Familiar Vision spell on his eagle, he knew it was safe to ride. He needed to get back to Yemenor. He had already been gone longer than he had said he was going to be. Even riding through the night, he wouldn't make it to Yemenor until early afternoon. As he rode, his thoughts turned to Yron.

Would Yron have the confidence to cast the Inset spell on the King's son? He would only have one chance. If Yron failed, all would be lost as far as the King was concerned. That was a lot of responsibility to place on the young man's shoulders, but there was no one else who could cast it. Yron had developed the Inset Capture spell, and as far as Raaj knew, he was the only one to cast the spell.

The fear of failure had always been Yron's weak spot in casting magic spells. He was a perfectionist, and the thought of attempting to cast a spell in public with the potential of failing had been a stumbling point which had hampered his success, as he demonstrated his magical abilities at the Mascar. Yron had never attempted to cast one of his spells with this much at stake. Raaj was tempted to secretly cast a Courage spell on Yron before he attempted the Inset but knew if Yron were to discover what Raaj had done, it would have the opposite effect.

Without a doubt, Yron was the most promising maiggii of his time. Magic simply spoke to him. There had been too many times when Yron played with the words in a chant or spell and, in so doing, made the spell better, stronger, or faster. Most wizards took years of study and research to develop a variation of a spell or chant, let alone developing an entirely new spell, but Yron had the ability to feel the magic and make it work for him. Someday, Yron would make a great Grand Master. A smile crossed Raaj's face, as he thought to himself, I chose well when Yron became my maiggii.

The second moon was beginning to rise over the southern mountains. While it was just a small sliver of a moon, the extra light would be enough to allow Raaj to ride without casting a Moonbeam spell to light his way.

Raaj knew he should have met up with the scouts he sent out from Yemenor heading south by now. He needed to keep an eye out for them, as he rode through the night. Perhaps they hadn't gotten as far as he expected. Raaj had been riding for seven or eight hours when, off to his right, he could see a small campfire tucked into the forest, under the trees. It didn't make sense to Raaj. Why were they on the eastern side of the northern corridor?

Riding to within five hundred feet of the campfire, Raaj dismounted Verser. It had been a while since he had needed to use his ranger skills, so his first few steps were awkward. If he hadn't been so far away from the camp, the noise he made would have been loud enough for him to be discovered. He recovered quickly though and quietly crept forward. Approaching the camp, he counted four people sitting around the fire. It appeared there were several people lying around the campsite as well.

Nearing the site, Raaj could determine this was another Warteen camp stationed at the northwest corner of the prairie. From here, they would be able to see anyone that came down the northern corridor to cross the central prairie or head south along the southern corridor. Raaj could tell that, unlike the Warteen camp watching the southern corridor, this camp had been here only a couple of days. There was still a lot of dead wood in the area surrounding the campfire, and the grass around the entrance to the camp from the prairie was not as trampled down as the other Warteen camp.

The good news was that this camp was most assuredly set up after the people from Yemenor had passed. Raaj wondered why the Warteen had missed the wagon trail made by the Yemenite citizens, as they crossed the prairie. He could see no evidence that the scouts were aware of the people of Yemenor passing this way.

Raaj traveled north toward Yemenor; he needed to make sure he intercepted the scouts who were heading south. He had learned what he needed to know, and there was no sense alerting the Warteen that there were scouts in the area around the castle.

It would be dark for a few more hours, so Raaj decided not to stop or rest. Instead, he would wait until daylight to rest. If he hadn't done so already, he didn't want to pass by the scouts, endangering them or providing any warning for the Warteen.

"Who is he?" Tarrie asked Havendar when she could question him in such a way that no one could see.

"Tell you later," Havendar replied, looking away to make sure no one had heard.

The heat was stifling in the cell. Havendar was grateful there was cool running water that poured into the water basin. He made sure Tarrie drank plenty of the water, too. Most of the men in the cell sat in one of the corners and played some type of game using several rocks they had found on the floor. They would take a handful of rocks, throw them against the wall and somehow determine who won the toss.

When the guards brought food into the cell, they were accompanied by several men dressed in expensive clothing. Several names were called out, and those individuals called came and stood before the men with the guards. After the inspection, the guards left the room, and the prisoners were permitted to eat.

There were mostly fruits and vegetables provided, but Havendar scooped out a large portion of rice that was in one of the bowls and handed it to Tarrie. Grabbing another plate, he scooped out even more rice for himself. Tarrie reached for some of the various fruits that were scattered on the table, and as she did so, Havendar reached for her hand. "Eat the rice first," he cautioned. "If you are still hungry, you can go back and get other food." Tarrie's dark eyes flamed with fierce anger.

She didn't like Havendar embarrassing her by acting as though she was a school child who needed a parent to tell her what to eat. But causing a ruckus about the event didn't seem like a wise thing to do either. Tarrie noticed the man Havendar had talked to earlier had done the same thing, avoiding the more exotic food and sticking to the rice instead. While it didn't change the fact that she was angry with the ranger for embarrassing her, it did cause her to think there was more to what Havendar had done than she could figure out now.

When the sun set, the cell was pitch black. Havendar had a dilemma. If Tarrie lay down next to him, Noblem would either assume they were life companions or that he had broken his ranger vows. The thought that a fellow ranger would believe he had broken his vows was more than Havendar could handle. There was something about this Noblem – it was obvious he was altering his voice, but there was more. His face seemed so familiar, perhaps he had seen him before.

Havendar was convinced he knew Noblem from somewhere, but he couldn't put his finger on where. From the look in Noblem's eyes, Havendar knew Noblem had the advantage. Noblem knew who he was, Havendar was convinced of that.

As Tarrie lay on the corner bed, Havendar stayed sitting in one of the chairs. It was only after he fell asleep and almost fell out of the chair that Havendar decided he would lie on the ground next to Tarrie, thus, safeguarding her while still protecting his valor.

In the morning when she awoke, Tarrie didn't make a fuss about Havendar sleeping on the floor, but there were things he needed to explain. Tarrie knew that Havendar was unnerved by the stranger he had greeted, but she didn't know if he knew him personally or just knew of him. There was a common bond, and she wanted to understand it.

Two guards entered the room and took everyone to a practice area. Havendar was doing exercises to stretch out his muscles when their coach came into the practice area. After running Havendar and Tarrie through drills, he informed them they wouldn't be able to use their blades while they practiced, as this was not allowed here.

The coach ran them through a workout. When they finished, he told them they would be fighting in the next day's arena battles. If he could find out anything about who they would be fighting, he would let them know. When they finished, the coach gave them a bitter tasting tea. "This will keep your muscles from getting sore," he said as he left them at the end of the day's workout.

Noblem had worked out on the other side of the practice area alone. Each time Havendar glanced over to watch him, Noblem would turn away. Clearly, there was something Noblem was hiding. As they gathered near the guards to be taken back to their cell, Noblem asked Havendar, "Are you two a fighting team?"

Havendar nodded.

"So, is that why you have been so protective of her?" he asked.

"We were sold on the same day, and we have been placed in the same cell together since then," Havendar responded. He knew Noblem wanted to know if they were life companions. Havendar was tempted to leave the unasked question unanswered, but he knew he might need Noblem's help if they were to escape. Besides, he didn't want to defend himself against a ranger's inquiry that would question whether he had broken his chastity vows.

"She is not my companion," Havendar replied. "We battle together, and she has become my friend. Normally, I sleep on the same bed as she does, especially when there are other men locked in the same cell. We do this only for her protection and safety."

Noblem nodded his understanding.

"How long have you been an arena slave?" Noblem asked.

"A little over a month," Havendar replied.

"How many fights have you been in?" Noblem inquired.

Havendar responded quickly, "This will be our second."

Noblem didn't say anything more. Shaking his head, he stepped forward and started back toward the cell. It didn't make sense to Noblem that Havendar and his female companion were fighting in the arena. This was only for the most experienced fighters. With only one other arena fight, Noblem feared for Havendar and his companion. Even the most experienced fighters could get permanently injured in the Ocknard arena. The only arena more dangerous was at Belritt, the Shakarine capital. There, the people's thirst for blood was unmatched.

There is no time, Noblem thought. He needed to talk with Havendar tonight. There were things Havendar needed to know about the dangers in the arena that he wasn't aware of. The arena was not a safe place for rangers or women.

On the other side of the cell, Havendar could hear Noblem whistling. At first, like the others in the room, Havendar was annoyed that Noblem was whistling – it was not a tune he recognized and certainly not a melody that would provide peace and comfort for sleeping. It was not until Noblem had whistled the song a second time that Havendar recognized there was a hidden message. Havendar smiled – Noblem was using one of the old sound languages that rangers use to communicate in a crowded room.

"We get it; you like to whistle," Havendar finally spoke. "But we are all tired and there is no reason for you to keep it up – let us be."

Noblem tried to protest, but others voiced their agreement with Havendar. Noblem started to whistle again but stopped when Havendar sat up. Havendar understood the message and knew Noblem wanted to talk later that night after all had gone to sleep.

It took several hours before everyone in the cell had fallen asleep. Havendar lie motionless, pretending to be asleep while listening to the others, making sure everyone in the cell was sleeping. He could tell Noblem hadn't fallen asleep either.

It was another thirty minutes before Noblem rolled out of bed. Havendar slowly followed him. As Havendar stood, he could see that Tarrie was awake as well. There was enough light from the moon shining through the cell bars that he could see her eyes flinch as his shadow unexpectedly crossed her face. Well, Havendar thought, at least I will not have to repeat everything I hear for her.

Noblem was sitting in the far corner, away from everyone. Havendar sat alongside him, both facing the cell. They wanted to make sure others wouldn't hear what was said.

"Havendar, we are not the only rangers that are fighting in the arenas," Noblem said. "Over the years, the Shakarine have made it a habit to capture rangers, enslave them, and force them to fight in the arenas.

"Five years ago, after rangers from all over Carbynarah started to come up missing, the Ranger's Guilds between the great lands started to talk amongst themselves. As they compared their stories, one thing had become obvious; rangers from each continent were coming up missing on a regular basis but were not being killed. On the contrary, they were just missing. The uneasiness at this realization spurred communication between the great Ranger Guilds, even Guilds that had been bitter enemies or even were at war.

"Last year, it was discovered that the Shakarine were paying large sums of money for rangers that could be enslaved and forced to fight in the arenas. It was discovered by accident. One of the Warteen ambassadors, herself a ranger, was attending an arena fight in the Shakarine capital of Belritt when she noticed two of the combatants had ranger brands on their forearms. She quickly spread the news, warning rangers across Carbynarah.

"We did not know about this sooner because, as you are aware, the Shakarine have outlawed rangers and there was no one formally from the Ranger's Guild in Shakarine. Thus, no one could identify those combatants who were rangers, or pass along word of the ranger slave trade and how the rangers were enslaved as combatants.

"After learning of this news, we began to find ways to infiltrate the arena games and found some who were sympathetic to the ranger's plight in their country. These people have poised themselves as slave owners and have been able to secure some ranger combatants. They used the money we provided to purchase others. Some, like me, are just here pretending to be slaves to some of these owners.

"I have no clue why you have been brought here to this arena with so little experience. This doesn't make sense. The only explanation I can come up with is that the day after tomorrow you and your companion will fight in the "free-for-all" event that happens after all the matches. In that match, only the winning team leaves the arena alive. Slave owners are paid handsomely to send their inexperienced combatants into the arena so that the gambling guild can rig the betting and receive a large payoff.

"If I am right, you will be either held until the end of the day, or early in the morning, you will be placed in with some older, well-known combatants and will miraculously win your bout in a spectacular fashion, thus, setting you up as an outside favorite for the betting in the free-for-all. With your lack of experience, you will easily be defeated, and they will make a lot of money off those who were unfortunate enough to have bet on you.

"Your current owner, unlike your previous owner, doesn't know you are a ranger. If he did, you would have been billed as a ranger, and you would never have been placed in the free-for-all. You must not let anyone know. Keep your arms covered. Never allow anyone to see those markings."

Noblem emphasized to Havendar that to keep him and Tarrie safe, they would need to find a way to lose their arena fight without allowing it to appear that the two of them were intentionally losing the fight. If anyone ever thought they had lost the fight intentionally, they would be executed right in front of the people attending the arena fights that day.

Havendar listened to what Noblem said. He was about to ask a question when one of the guards passed by and looked into the cell. "You two get to bed!" the guard yelled. The shout caused several of the people in the cell to wake up.

"It is not safe to keep talking. If we do, the others will think we are plotting. Don't forget what I have said," Noblem whispered.

Havendar nodded and headed to bed. As Havendar climbed into bed, one thought kept plaguing his mind. He knew Noblem but from where? His voice was so familiar; Havendar was sure it was a voice he had heard many times before. As Havendar lay his head down, a final thought crossed his mind, Noblem's voice doesn't match his face. The young face of the ranger was at odds with the old man's voice that came from his lips.

# Chapter 36

Sartura could see the scouts riding toward her. They must have contacted my father, she thought and have news about where he is. She was anxious for their report – the thought of reuniting with her father excited her.

As the scouts rode up, they dismounted their horses while they were still moving; with a slight jog to their step, they approached Sartura, who was at the back of the column, to give their report. "Arutras, we were told there was no need for us to rush to the cliff walls," one of the scouts said. "Lord Og has a backlog. He told us that we were more than welcome to camp at Tamar Wayne, but we should not expect to be lifted to the top of the cliffs tonight."

Even though it might cause congestion at the lifts, Sartura decided the right thing to do was ride directly to the base of the plateau. If they had to camp out on the prairie, they would, but at least it would be safer for the catapults and easier for them to defend just outside of Tamar Wayne than to be in the middle of the prairie. Leaving the catapults in the open prairie was not a great plan.

As the scouts were preparing to get back on their horses, she requested them to tell the wagon masters to proceed toward the cliffs. They were not to continue to go to the cliff face until directed to do so.

"Then head back to Benflyn Dor and tell them we have wounded soldiers on the way. Ask them what they want us to do with them. Explain that Lord Jentree, the King's nephew, is one of the wounded." She also requested they find out what she should do with the catapults and to return and report once they had the answers.

With their orders, the scouts climbed back on their horses and headed toward Benflyn Dor. Sartura watched as the scouts rode off. This is going to be very tricky, she thought. Only during the championship tournament was she required to juggle between being Sartura and Arutras, and that had been difficult enough.

It was about an hour and a half before dusk when the scouts returned, "Arutras, they want you to take the catapults to the east side of the entrance. There is a lift being set up specifically to hoist them to the top of the plateau. We are to camp at the base of the cliff. Our orders are to protect the wagons and goods that are waiting to be lifted to the top of the plateau. We are to hold our position until everything had been hoisted up the cliffs. This will be our post until other troops arrive to relieve us. Additionally, upon their arrival, the wounded will be lifted to the summit and cared for."

Sartura had her orders, and she stopped the column to issue the new commands. The newly returned scouts would lead the catapults to the special equipment hoist. Sartura would lead her to the face of the cliff where they would set up their camp.

Yron leaned forward and rested his head on Tristina. They were not riding as hard today, and he thought he would take the time to rest. It is unusual for Yron to be so tired, Brelyah thought, but then he was up late working on something. She was still puzzled as to why Yron had lied to her – it was obvious he had cast an Invisibility spell the other day when the scout rode by. Did Yron think her to be a fool?

She smiled, as she realized Yron was no longer treating her as his captive. In fact, she thought, he has warmed up to the possibility of taking me on as his apprentice. She knew that one of these days she would need to tell Yron the truth regarding who she was and why she was traveling across the prairie before Yron captured her. Now, was not the time.

As she rode behind him, she started to chant a Rest spell under her breath. Yron needed rest. Brelyah knew once they arrived at Benflyn Dor, the demand on Yron's time and abilities would greatly tax his strength. Reaching into the pouch she had hidden beneath her belt, she grabbed a pinch of morphing dust and breathed it through her nose. This was not the time for Yron or anyone else to see her as she really was.

Soon, Brelyah could tell that Yron was sleeping. His horse was well trained. She knew they were in a hurry, but there was no reason to run the horses as hard as they had been. Brelyah hoped they would be able to take advantage of the shade from the tree line, but by the time they got to the tree line, the sun was directly overhead – they would be in direct sunlight the rest of the day.

Off to the north, Brelyah could see another dust trail heading their direction. This one seemed to string on for several miles. It must be another army, she thought. She needed to make Yron aware of the situation. Riding close to the young wizard allowed her to stop the Rest spell.

It took a few minutes before Yron awoke. By then, Brelyah was riding innocently behind him. As he lifted his head, Brelyah commented about the dust cloud to the north.

Embarrassed, Yron nodded his head. How long have I been asleep? he wondered. Was Brelyah aware? Ky was about one hundred yards in front of them, and Yron could tell the dog was acutely aware of the oncoming army. Yron wondered why Ky hadn't alerted him to their presence – that wasn't like Ky. Yron decided he must have been more tired than he realized and slept through his Familiar's warning.

He looked over his shoulder at the tree line but was unable to tell how long they had been riding alongside it. Nothing looked familiar to him – he must have been asleep for many hours. Off to his right, the cliffs of Benflyn Dor were dominating. They had to reach four or five hundred feet. Yron could see why they had been such great protection for the High Plains people during the Shadow Wars. From what he could see, it would be impossible to scale those walls.

Yron searched his memories and recalled Raaj explaining that during the Shadow Wars, the walls of Benflyn Dor had never been breached. They were so impenetrable that Lord Malkanard's forces were never able to get even one soldier to the top of the plateau. If the walls Yron could see were any indication of those that surrounded the entire plateau of Benflyn Dor, he finally understood how they could withstand eighty years of attacks from Lord Malkanard.

Yron was concerned about the approaching army but noted they were still several hours away. He hoped he could find the entrance to the plateau before the approaching army got too close. He figured they would ride another two or three hours, and then, if they were unable to find the entrance to the plateau, they would hide in the forest until the army passed.

The ride to Benflyn Dor was taking a lot longer than he expected. The approaching army was no closer than he thought several hours back. Now, hours later, Yron was undeterred in his belief that the army was still heading directly toward Benflyn Dor. By now, he had expected the army would have change course, halted, or something. Ahead, he could see that the forest stretched out into the prairie. At the point where the forest stuck farthest out onto the prairie, was where they would camp and wait for the army to pass. Thirty minutes later, Yron identified a place to hide.

It was a better lookout than Yron had hoped for. The forest ventured onto the prairie, but on the other side, it cut back sharply toward the cliff walls. From here, Yron could see the entire area. He noticed the northern face of Benflyn Dor, as he looked east along the cliff edge.

To the south of where they were hiding, the tree line continued for several miles and then turned east again. From where he was standing, the tree line appeared to cut back to the south until it ran into the cliff again. Yron wanted to understand the lay of the land, so he decided to climb one of the taller nearby trees. When he was high enough to see over the trees, he could see that indeed, the tree line cut back to the cliff face. As Yron studied the cliff face, he noticed what appeared to be a narrow entrance to an alcove in the cliff.

To the north, the dust cloud from the approaching army was making it impossible for Yron to see the source and how many people were traveling with it. Whoever it was, they stretched out for over a mile. Based on this observation, Yron was starting to have a hard time believing that it was an army – military formations usually kept their troops tightly together while marching.

Yron had no choice but to wait and see. Climbing down the tree, he turned toward Brelyah saying, "We will have to wait here until whoever is making the dust cloud passes."

"Will they pass?" Brelyah asked. "It appears they are heading right toward the cliff wall."

"Honestly, I don't know," Yron replied. "We'll have to wait and find out."

Later, when it was dark under the trees, Yron's curiosity finally got the best of him. Pulling out the piece of magical koa he had placed in his leather pouch, he looked around. Yron was fascinated. It wasn't that he could see, but rather, he felt where everything was. And, through that feeling, Yron could create an image in his mind of what things looked like. To the left, there was a fly buzzing around Brelyah's horse. To the right, a bird was nestled in its nest. Each leaf in the trees had their own separate feeling. He could feel them move and knew from that feeling what he was seeing.

Remarkably, the Inset spell he had cast worked. After a while, Yron turned toward Brelyah, who was sitting against one of the trees and looking through the branches at the approaching army. "Here, hold this," he said. "Don't look toward any light." When Brelyah looked up, he tossed her the small piece of koa. He could see from the expression on her face before she dropped the wood, that the Inset had worked on her as well.

"What is that?" she asked. "What did it do to my vision?"

"It is a spell I have been working on," Yron explained. "It allows you to use the abilities of something you cast the spell on as though it were you. We call the spell an Inset."

"Inset?" Brelyah asked. "Why does it change the way you see?" she continued as she kicked the piece of wood away from her, then moved it toward Yron by pushing it with a stick.

"It is an Inset of a bat," Yron explained. "What you experienced is bat vision. The bat's ability to see in the dark was transferred to that piece of wood, and when you hold it, you have the same ability to see as though you were a bat."

Brelyah didn't seem too impressed, and it didn't appear to Yron that she would be picking up the koa stick any time soon. Yron knew that this success could be the beginning of a breakthrough for casting the Inset spell. He grabbed the piece of wood and placed it back into the leather pouch. Looking in the pouch, Yron could see three rings he had gotten from the man in the white tree cave, a clasp to hold a robe together, and various other pieces of jewelry.

It was confusing to Yron why the man in the cave would have been carrying these items. Perhaps, when he and Raaj got back to their homestead, he would have the time to study and understand the items he had found in the cave. Yron was amused by the fact that he was torn between wanting to show Raaj what he had found and wanting to keep it for himself.

Before he could explore his feelings and thoughts on the subject further, someone from the dust cloud rode their horse very quickly past Yron and Brelyah and rode directly into the alcove Yron had seen from the tree.

He knew he needed to see what was in the alcove. There was no doubt now that the group of people traveling across the prairie was headed directly toward the alcove in the cliff walls. "I will be back," Yron whispered to Brelyah.

"I am sure you will," she replied, "but if you think you are leaving me here alone, you are wrong."

Yron didn't know what to say. He couldn't take her with him – she wasn't trained to walk through the woods without making a sound, but Yron knew she was determined to accompany him. We will be caught, he thought. Before he could voice a protest, Brelyah ducked under one of the low hanging branches and headed in the direction of the rider. Yron had to admit he was impressed; she must have had some training in walking silently. Still not wanting to take a chance, Yron cast a Silence spell around them and then followed her.

At first daylight, Raaj headed north toward Yemenor. An hour into the ride, he came across the scouts who had been sent to gain information of the Warteen presence in the south. They were surprised by Raaj when he rode directly into their camp.

"There is no need to scout any further south. I have the information we need. Meet me at the castle," Raaj requested, "as soon as you are able."

Before they could answer, Raaj rode off toward Yemenor. He knew it would have been polite to ride with the scouting team back to the castle, but he didn't want to have to wait on them. His Payleen could travel twice as fast as their horses and without any rest and at this point, getting back to the castle to make plans was more important than being polite.

Raaj realized the bulk of the men left in the castle could head toward Benflyn Dor, but they would need to take the northern route to avoid the Warteen spies. He would send Darmuth with them. He would stay with forty or fifty men to take advantage of the defenses they had built. After all, any enemy they could stop here at the castle wall would be an enemy they wouldn't have to fight later.

Raaj calculated that it would be at least two weeks before the castle would be attacked. He would keep the best archers at the castle with him. If he could find a place where he would be able to cast an Illusion spell and then keep the illusion alive, he figured he could defend the castle for a day – maybe even two – before they would have to flee to Benflyn Dor.

He could cast an Invisibility spell on three or four of the horses that would remain in Yemenor, so once the enemy armies entered the castle, they would think the people inside had escaped by use of an Invisibility spell. This should make the enemy nervous, as they searched the castle. This could ensure that Raaj and the men with him could escape without being captured or killed. The thought of doing this caused Raaj to chuckle. His heart was light during the ride back to the castle, as he thought of all the little traps he could cast throughout Yemenor that would cause the invading armies additional grief.

It didn't take long for Sartura to set up a defensive parameter at the entrance to the plateau. She knew the danger of having campfires, so she placed sentries on each side of the entrance with the bulk of her garrison just inside the narrow passageway that created the entrance to the lifts.

She had hoped her men would be able to have a warm meal tonight, but the cooking wagons were already on the top of the plateau. All the lifts – with the exception of the one lifting the catapults – would stop working as soon as it got dark.

In the distance, Sartura could see the lightning of an approaching storm long before she could hear the thunder. It was going to be wet tonight. She ordered the wagons that were a part of the catapult supply train to pull back so that they could be used to stretch large pieces of canvas into a makeshift roof giving her men a dry place to sleep. They had barely gotten the last canvas stretched between the wagons before the downpour started.

Lightning occasionally lit up the camp and entrance to the plateau. From what she could see from the light caused by each lightning strike, it would take a long time to lift all the wagons and equipment to the top of the plateau. She didn't know how they would ever get rid of the backlog. Lord Myningar, with his wagons and supplies, would be arriving later tomorrow or the next day. She also hoped that the people from Yemenor would be arriving soon. Unfortunately, while their presence was welcome, they would only enlarge the backlog.

Tomorrow, she would need to move their defensive parameter farther away from the entrance and staging area to provide more room to stage the lifts. With all the expected arrivals, there would be a greater need for more room to queue their wagons and equipment. She was glad Lord Myningar would be arriving soon. With the limited number of men she had, she couldn't see how she could provide much of a defense if one of the enemy armies were to stumble upon their staging area and the entrance to the plateau.

The storm lasted for only a few hours, and once the wind pushed the clouds away, Sartura could see the first moon slowly rise above the plateau rim and further light the entrance. She knew that with the morning light she would be able to come up with additional defenses, but tonight they would rest.

Yron and Brelyah got within one hundred feet of the entrance before Yron dared not proceed farther. Inside the alcove, wagons were parked in rows and occasionally a team of four horses would be harnessed to one of the wagons pulling it out of sight. It didn't appear there were any defenses in place to guard the wagons that had been parked across the small prairie nestled inside the alcove.

As they watched, an occasional scout entered or left the entrance. About two hours before dusk, another very small group of wagons and shortly after that, several hundred horsemen rode into the entrance. Two of the wagons broke off from the rest and headed out of sight toward the cliff face. From what he could hear, there were wounded men in the wagon. The men and horsemen started to create defensive positions to protect the wagons. Yron really wanted to get a better look inside the alcove.

Just before nightfall, thirteen catapults were taken to the entrance and out of visual range. The foot soldiers accompanying the catapults stayed at the entrance to the alcove and helped with the defensive parameter that had been established. Two of the men broke off from the main group and headed toward Yron and Brelyah.

Now would not be a good time to make our appearance known, Yron thought. He was sure these were King Timon's men, but there was no reason he couldn't wait until morning to contact them. Yron motioned his intentions to Brelyah and headed back toward their camp. They would stay there tonight. Tomorrow, they could make decisions as to what they needed to do next. Yron hoped he would be able to spend some time studying the items he had found in the cave, but there was a dark overcast, and the first moon was hiding behind the clouds.

It felt like rain, so Yron pulled a piece of light-weight canvas from his pack. As she watched him remove the canvas, it dawned on Brelyah that Yron could fit more than should be possible into his pack. Intrigued, Brelyah filed this away as something she wanted to eventually investigate further – when Yron wasn't looking, of course. In the meantime, she decided to help Yron, as he prepared to hang the canvas off the ground to provide shelter from the possible rain.

Next, Yron pulled several sections of rope from his pack and tied them to the trees so that he could hang the canvas. She didn't initially welcome the way Yron fussed with the exact positioning of the canvas until it started to rain, but then she appreciated that the rainwater running off the canvas didn't drop onto their bedrolls.

Above, lightning struck, and the echo of the thunder rolled across the face of the plateau. Brelyah had never been outside in a thunder and lightning storm. After peeking out from underneath the canvas a couple of times only to be chased back under it with a flash of lightning and the sound of thunder, Brelyah quietly lay on the bedroll that was stretched out next to Yron's.

She knew Yron was not yet asleep. "Yron?" she asked. "Where are your mother and father?"

Yron didn't answer. There was an awkward silence. Finally, he cleared his throat and whispered, "I don't know. I was raised by a man I called an uncle until I met Raaj. He has been like a father to me," Yron replied with a rasp to his voice that she had never heard.

"Did you have any brothers or sisters?" she continued.

"Not that I know of, it is just me, here alone... but with Raaj, Ky, and Tristina – and now, of course, you," he replied quickly.

"Do you think..." she was cut off before she could finish her sentence.

"Please, I don't feel like talking," Yron requested sadly.

Just as he said that, Ky bound under the canvas and started to shake. His rain-soaked fur flung dirty, muddy water over everything. Yron started to laugh. As he did so, another bolt of lightning streaked across the sky, allowing him to see Brelyah's mud-soaked face, which made him only laugh harder.

This upset Brelyah. She stood up, grabbed her bedroll and headed out into the trees. Ky watched her walk away and started to follow, but Yron placed his hand on Ky's head. "She will be back soon," Yron said.

It took a while for Brelyah to finally return to the canvas shelter. When she did, her bedroll was soaked, and she was dripping. For a while, Yron pretended to be asleep. Finally, he started to feel guilty. Sitting up, he reached into his pack and produced another bedroll, a towel, and some dry clothing. Rolling over with his back to Brelyah, he said, "You can change. I will not watch."

He could hear her roll the new bedroll out. After several seconds, he could hear her start to change. Once she had finished, it dawned on him that she could be cold. Removing a blanket from his pack, he handed it to Brelyah. As she wrapped it around herself then lie on the dry bedroll, Yron heard her whisper, "Thank you." Not really knowing what to say, Yron didn't reply. Instead, closing his eyes, he fell asleep.
Chapter 37

It had been two days since Yron and Brelyah left the Yemenite camp. Lord Kimberlee was still reluctant to say anything about the incident that led to their parting. It was an embarrassment that they had shown the young wizard such contempt, but the fact that he had bested them all – without anyone so much as laying a hand on him – was perhaps the greater insult.

Lord Kimberlee hadn't really had any contact with wizards, but now he understood why – when people talk about them – they do it with a kind of reverence. It was impossible for Lord Kimberlee to understand exactly what a wizard could do in a combat situation, but if he were to find out, he would want to discover it only with the wizard on his side. From the stories he had heard, it took a lot to get a wizard involved in anything contentious. He also understood that wizards, for the most part, stayed away from big cities and rarely got involved in the business affairs of the kingdoms.

So, why then was Yron involving himself in the affairs of King Timon? Why was he running errands, and why would Grand Master Raajanaar, the wizard who stayed behind at the castle in Yemenor, be so committed to King Timon? More importantly, why did Yron allow everyone to think he was the King's messenger?

As the sun began to shed light across the prairie, he knew today was the day Yron had said they would meet up with the armies sent by King Timon. Lord Kimberlee decided he would send some scouts ahead to see if they could find the approaching army. He requested one of them to report back as soon as they spotted the dust plume, and the other to return and report as soon as contact was made with the King's troops. The protection the army would provide gave him great comfort. They had been on the prairie for almost two weeks now without protection or support, and as far as Lord Kimberlee was concerned, they had been fortunate indeed.

Once breakfast was served, Lord Kimberlee ordered the camp to be broken down; they would march today until they met up with the Yemenite army. Once he made contact, they would continue their march toward Benflyn Dor. He had no idea how long it would take them to get to there, but he knew the sooner they got there, the better.

Riding in front of the column gave Lord Kimberlee and the two members of his War Council who rode at his side, time to talk. Initially, they discussed the needs of the Yemenite people, the search for fresh water, and what life on the plateau would be like, but no one dared to broach the topic that was on everyone's mind.

Finally, Lord Kimberlee couldn't stand it any longer. "Why do you think a wizard was delivering messages for the King?" Lord Kimberlee asked aloud.

The question hung in the air because no one was willing to give a possible explanation. "I don't know, but the last time the wizards participated in a war was back in the time of the Shadow Wars," one of the men responded. "The stories I have heard was that it was Master Glemmic, the head of the Wizards' Guild, who first came to the aid of Yemenor and the citizens of the High Plains. The story goes that on the day of the big assault, Master Glemmic was responsible for over half of the enemy deaths."

"I once heard King Timon say it was Master Glemmic who almost sacrificed his life to deliver the mortal wound that eventually killed Lord Malkanard," the other man reported.

"I have heard the same story," Lord Kimberlee muttered. "I don't know about you, but I have recently found real respect for wizards. No wonder they aren't allowed to compete in the games. I have always thought it was because their craft was weak, and they were not able to compete with a warrior on a level playing field."

They had been marching for three hours when Lord Kimberlee could see the dust cloud of riders who were riding hard and fast. It wasn't long before his suspicion was proven correct; one of the two scouts who were sent out early this morning was returning.

Upon arriving, the scout reported that they had spotted the dust plume of the approaching army. An hour later, a second dust plume was approaching their position, and the second scout reported that the troops were going to pass by and immediately protect the rear flank of the column. Additionally, Lord Baintor reported that these men were the quick-responding portion of the defense force and that a larger portion of the King's army was still a day or two away.

The second scout arrived with two scouts from Lord Baintor's army. Lord Kimberlee wanted to talk with them. It was important for him to know what they would face ahead. Plus, it would be good just to catch up with what was going on with the King and his forces.

The army scouts relayed a request from Lord Baintor that Lord Kimberlee and the people of Yemenor not stop but continue to meet up with the main army led by Lord Capnar. Once they met up, the commanding officers would gather to finalize the plans to get to Benflyn Dor as soon as possible. Lord Kimberlee nodded in agreement. Kimberlee figured the main army was traveling at about the same speed that he and his column were moving. With any luck, they would meet up with Lord Capnar and his army tomorrow at best, the day after tomorrow at worst.

The morning came too early for Yron. He simply didn't want to get out of bed. His body ached, and it felt as though every muscle in his body was on fire. As he rubbed his eyes to wipe the sleep from them, he noticed that even blinking caused his eyelids to hurt. On top of it all, he was just plain exhausted. Perhaps when they arrived at the plateau, he would have one of the Healers check him out.

He was embarrassed to admit his struggle with exhaustion or the soreness he was experiencing to Brelyah. Instead, he explained he was working out the details of a spell, and before they contacted the camp, he was going to take some time to meditate and resolve the details.

Offering an excuse is so unlike Yron, Brelyah thought. What was it that was bothering him? From what she could see, he didn't have a fever – there was no sweat on his forehead. Unfortunately, she could do nothing but watch him. She soon noticed that each time he moved his arms or legs to reposition himself, he winced in pain.

Perhaps a spider or something had bitten him. She had learned of spider bites from a story she had once heard. She wondered if she sang a healing song if Yron would recognize it. She doubted it because so few knew the ancient magic of her song. Besides, she doubted that Yron had much exposure to the magic of Healers and questioned even more that he would even recognize what she was doing since the magic of the wizards was a series of chants, commands, and elements. Still, there was a concern that he might realize what she was doing. Brelyah stood up and grabbed something to eat. Food in hand, she sat down near enough to Yron so that her Song of Healing would affect him, but not so close as to invade his space.

She could see that the song did provide some comfort for Yron because shortly after she started, he fell asleep. All Songs of Healing work better if the caster can touch the individual they are trying to heal, but Brelyah knew that would be impossible. After an hour or so, Yron awoke from his sleep and propped himself on his elbow. He obviously felt much better.

"Brelyah, you have a beautiful voice, but we cannot afford to have any attention drawn to us until we are ready to announce ourselves. Please stop singing," Yron requested kindly. He secretly hoped, however, that once they were safely atop Benflyn Dor, he would have the chance to hear her sing again.

Yron was soon able to get up and start moving around. As he did, some of the soreness he had experienced earlier started to come back, but it was nothing like it had been before. Regardless, if he had a chance, he would talk to a Healer when they got to the top of the plateau.

King Timon was surprised and impressed that Lord Myningar had secured the catapults. This would aid greatly in the defense of the entrance to the plateau. At dusk, he was told that one of Lord Myningar's garrisons had arrived and brought with them thirteen catapults. The fact that Lord Og could lift the catapults to the top of the plateau during the middle of the night made it all the better.

As King Timon looked out over the entrance to the plateau, he could see the enormous queue of wagons, supplies, and horses waiting to be lifted onto the plateau. In the distance, he could see Lord Myningar's garrison protecting the entrance. The King didn't know who the commander of the garrison was but made a mental note to thank the young officer for saving the life of his nephew.

Without his quick thinking, there was no way his nephew would have survived the snake bite. He was surprised that any of his officers had the experience necessary to perform the life-saving measures. As he discussed the officer's actions with his Healers, they were surprised that anyone outside their guild could have that type of knowledge.

As the King scanned the horizon, there was no sign of an army on the move. King Timon was apprised that Lord Myningar was less than a day's march from Benflyn Dor. It would be nice to have the trusted input of a valued advisor after such a long time.

The arrival of Lord Myningar would mean the return of Sartura. The King had little time to think of her safety over the past week, but it would be a blessing indeed to have her safely returned to him. While it was too much to expect, King Timon hoped her journey across the plains would show her that her place was in the court, not filling her brother's footsteps in the military.

Turning from his outlook, King Timon knew he had to meet with Cerdon to discuss the preparations needed for the arrival of the people from Yemenor and Lord Myningar's army. Cerdon had said he was expecting the army of Captain Ranthod and their king soon, but none of the outlooks could see any movement on the prairie. In the meantime, the scouts had been sent out to check the perimeter of the plateau. King Timon didn't know how long it would take for them to travel around the entire perimeter. Once it was secured, they would need to set up scout outposts and devise a method of warning signals around the perimeter.

King Timon entered the tent to find Cerdon and the rest of the War Council eating and waiting for his arrival. The initial topic was the weather. They were heading into fall, and while snow on the prairie was a rare thing, shelters would need to be built to protect the people from the cold.

They were having some problems with animals getting into their food supplies. The morning was filled with preparations for lodging and setting traps for whatever wild animals were pilfering the supplies. These type of issues bored King Timon. That was another reason he missed Lord Myningar – he was so good at planning all these details. Once the Lord arrived, King Timon knew that he would oversee the preparations on the plateau.

What King Timon wanted to do most was explore the cave where the scrolls and texts were found. His curiosity about the contents of the cave was almost more than he could endure. He hoped there would be some ledgers or journals that would give an idea of what defensive measures were successful and explain the water systems and how they were able to function on the plateau with so many people for so long.

In the distance, the trumpet sounded an alarm. From where King Timon sat, it sounded as though it was a northern alarm. The alarm gave King Timon a reason to quickly wrap up the meeting and make sure everyone had their assignments. The King was especially grateful that Cerdon had taken the responsibility of making sure the water system was functional and to see what he could find about waste removal.

As King Timon rode toward the northern outpost, he knew decisions would need to be made about livestock and farming. From some of the ruins he had seen, it was apparent that the city on top of the plateau during the Shadow Wars went deep into what had become a forest over time. Once Lord Myningar's men arrived, they would begin to scout the forest. The King figured it would be wise to rebuild on what was previously built. After all, the plateau's former inhabitants had over one hundred forty years to find the best use of the land.

As King Timon arrived at the outpost that had sounded the alarm, he could see the scout pointing northward. It took King Timon a few moments to see exactly what the man was pointing to. The rain had moistened the ground, making it harder for the scouts to see dust from approaching convoys. Today, there were no dust clouds to be seen; instead, the scout had identified what looked like a small snake wiggling its way across the prairie.

King Timon sent scouts to intercept the approaching army, people, convoy, or whatever it was, but he secretly hoped it was Lord Myningar. After all, it appeared to be coming from the same direction his garrison that brought the catapults did. This would be good news, especially if Lord Myningar arrived before nightfall.

Watching the convoy approach Benflyn Dor reminded King Timon of the day Prince Purstar was struck by the ancient Inset sword. He was watching Lord Myningar approach the road at Ranker Thor when he got word that his son was wounded in one of the battles. It wasn't until later that he learned of the severity of the wound, and that it was a magical wound. It was with sadness that Gertoff explained to the King that she was unable to help any more than she was already doing.

He had kept the sword, planning to show it to Raaj in the hopes there was something about it that would give some insight. It was a foolish thought, but he still held hope for a miracle healing.

King Timon was beginning to give up hope on the Inset. His son's breathing was so shallow, and the Healers simply couldn't do anything more for him. He had been told for the last week that they didn't think his son would last another day. Last night, the time between each breath stretched so long that the King thought, after each one, he had heard his son's last. But somehow, his son had found the strength to draw another breath.

"It is time to go," Yron said, as he placed his belongings into his pack. "We will go out the same way we came in and ride along the forest edge until we are stopped by King Timon's sentries."

Brelyah had been ready since daybreak, so she was ready and prepared to leave. She could see that Yron was having trouble climbing onto his horse, he was stiff and moving slow, rather than embarrass him, she rode out to the prairie's edge and waited for him.

It took a few minutes before Yron followed her out of the woods and took the lead. They had ridden less than thirty minutes when they were stopped by the guards they spotted the night before. As the sentry stepped out from his small camp, Yron raised his hands and told the man he was here to meet with King Timon.

"I am the Maiggii of Grand Master Wizard Raajanaar, Yron announced. "I am here regarding King Timon's summon for my Master, requesting his services for a personal reason. I have arrived early, but the Grand Master will be arriving shortly. A few things need to be made ready before the Grand Master arrives, I am here to make the preparations."

Pointing to Brelyah, Yron explained, "She is here to help me."

From behind the sentry, two additional men appeared with their bows drawn. "You will need to stay here until we can contact Lord Og, one of the sentries explained.

"Do you mind if I lower my hands?" Yron asked. Initially, the sentry agreed, but upon further reflection, "It will be better if you just stay as you are," the sentry announced.

"Would it be alright if we got off our horses?" Yron asked.

Again, the answer was, "No."

Yron could see the sentries were soaked to the bone from last night's rain. One of the men was shivering as the light wind coming off the prairie blew through his wet clothes.

"Do you know how long it will take to get the message to the King?" Yron asked.

Yron could hear someone approaching from the left. He wanted to look at the approaching party, but he didn't want to take his eyes off the two men holding bows leveled at his chest.

"Who did he say he was?" the person who had approached asked.

"He claims to be a maiggii for some Grand Master Wizard the King requested," the scout responded.

"Let me see him," was the order.

Nodding, the scout walked back toward Yron and asked him to remove his hood. As Yron did so, he could see a young officer standing beside the scout. The officer walked around in front of Yron and looked directly into his face.

"I don't know about a maiggii of a Master Wizard, but this is the boy that our King sent to deliver a message to our people fleeing Yemenor a week ago. I don't think we need to hold him here at bow point," Arutras stated.

The touch of a reluctant wizard that will win your heart, she thought remembering. Isn't that what the Oracle had said? This young boy couldn't be much older than she was, and the claim of being a wizard... she had her doubts. "You say you are the maiggii of a Master Wizard?" she asked Yron.

Before Yron could respond, the messenger from Lord Og returned. "The King has been waiting for Master Raajanaar and his assistant to arrive. There are standing orders to bring them to the King immediately," the messenger relayed. "We are to bring them to the lifts now."

Arutras nodded, motioning to the scouts to escort them to the lifts. This maiggii was a conundrum to her, but even more questionable, was his assistant. She had an air about her. An assistant, she thought. She doesn't act like anyone's assistant. As the two rode toward the lifts, Sartura wondered what her father needed with this young maiggii and his Master Wizard.

Yron could see the lift structures that were used to raise the wagons and supplies to the top of the plateau. He wondered how Tristina would do being lifted on one of the platforms. It didn't take Yron long to realize that Tristina was not going to cooperate.

Hanging a feed and water bag from one of the nearby trees, Yron whispered in her ear that he would be back. She would have to stay here until he could return for her. Brelyah left her horse with Tristina to keep the Payleen company while they met with the King.

As Yron rode the lift to the top of the plateau, he could see the old road that switched back and forth leading to the top of the cliff – it was obvious that some places were crumbled and others had completely collapsed and fallen below. From this vantage point, Yron could see why they were using the lifts.

"Too bad you couldn't use magic to repair the road," Brelyah thought out loud.

Yron agreed with her but didn't want to admit he didn't know of such a spell. Once they reached the top of the plateau, Yron and Brelyah were escorted to the King's tent, and upon entry into his tent, were greeted by one of his servants who offered to get them food if they were hungry or needed anything.

Yron, speaking for both Brelyah and himself, indicated that they were fine, and the servant turned to leave the room. Before the servant had taken two steps, Brelyah stomped on the top of Yron's foot and through clenched teeth, she whispered, "Next time speak for yourself."

From where Yron stood, he could see a table and maps hanging around the room. This was the War Council tent that he had been summoned to when the King requested him to deliver a message to the Yemenite citizens who were fleeing from Yemenor.

Yron wondered if the King would even recognize him. His thoughts were interrupted as the King entered the room, followed by his Healer. "I am glad you are here," the King said to Yron and then asked, "When will Master Raajanaar be arriving?"

There wasn't much that Yron could tell the King, but he explained the situation as best he could. Raaj was still at Yemenor defending the castle to provide the people of Yemenor as much time to escape as he could.

"I assume you know why I summoned Master Raajanaar, but now, we are running out of time. We need to do something fast. The Healer does not think my son will last much longer," the King stated sadly.

"Yes, Your Majesty, Grand Master Raajanaar did explain it to me," Yron responded.

"Is there anything we can do to help speed up the process so that Grand Master Raajanaar will be able to take care of the situation once he arrives? We have the Inset sword that wounded my son. Would you like to see it?" the King continued.

"The sword? Yes... I would very much like to study it," Yron replied, astonished at the offer.

The King signaled one of the guards to get the sword. "I will place one of my assistants at your disposal. If you need anything, he will get it for you," the King continued.

"I need a place where I can prepare and study?" Yron replied.

"Yes, we will arrange something for you." As the King turned to leave and make the arrangements, he stopped, turning back to Yron he continued, "We found a cave filled with books and scrolls about a quarter mile away. There are guards protecting the cave, and we have the area sealed off. You are welcome to use it as a place for you to study," the King said, placing his hand against the side of his face in thought.

"When you have time, I would like a report about what is in the room and if there is any valuable information. I need to warn you, though, that one of the children who found the room was burned by something that exploded on him. I believe the contents of the cave are from the time of the Shadow Wars."

"Space away from the camp would be preferred, and the cave will work nicely," Yron replied.

"Good, I will have my men set up a camp there for you," the King replied.

As Yron left the King's tent, he realized King Timon didn't appear to have recognized him. Hmmm, he thought.

The scouts returned sooner than expected and gave Lord Og the report. Lord Myningar's army was approaching from the north. The scouts estimated the troops would be arriving at the plateau in four to six hours. "One more thing, they had wounded soldiers and prisoners that will need to be taken care of." He reminded Lord Og.

Lord Og was concerned that the ropes they had been using for the lifts were beginning to show wear. He knew if they were not required to lift heavy loads like wagons filled to the brim with supplies, they would be safe to use for a few weeks. Some men had been assigned to weave the wild flax into new ropes, but they were not making them as fast as he had hoped. Until the new ropes had been tested, he didn't know if the new ropes would be strong enough to lift the weight currently being lifted.

Aside from the rope issue, everything was going very well. Lord Og was pleased that they had gotten all the catapults to the top of the plateau without incident. The catapults were extremely heavy, and he had been concerned the beam used to lift the loads wouldn't be strong enough to hold the weight.

Behind him, the last of the catapults were being moved to their defensive positions. Lord Burtel reported that four of the catapults were ready. At present, his men were moving the stumps from the trees they were clearing next to the catapults so that they could be used as ammunition.

For now, Lord Og was relieved to know he would have additional troops to defend the Tamar Wayne entrance. The additional men could help speed up the staging and transportation of the goods from the unloading points. This would greatly help his efforts. Without word of when the citizens from Yemenor would be arriving, he was ever mindful to ensure that the lifts were not overly backlogged for when they did show up.

From the looks of things, he would finish lifting the supplies from the people of Rathor by the end of the day. He was grateful they didn't have much livestock, and those they did have consisted of chickens and a few hundred cattle, mostly heifers with two bulls. The people from Rathor had been very helpful and supportive, even when their belongings had been searched for weapons.

Lord Og needed to know how many wagons and what equipment Lord Myningar was going to need to be lifted on to the plateau. With that knowledge, he could better plan for the next couple of days. Perhaps, he thought the commander of the garrison below would be able to give him some insight. He would take the next lift down and meet with the garrison commander to get the information he wanted.

It didn't take Lord Og long to find the commander of the garrison. He was surprised to find Lord Myningar had placed Arutras at the command. While Lord Og knew Arutras was a great arena warrior, he knew skill in the games didn't necessarily equate to qualities needed for effective leadership. Casting his doubts away, Lord Og decided that Arutras must have distinguished himself on the battlefield at King Holben's castle.

After his discussion with Arutras, Lord Og understood that he had underestimated what Lord Myningar would be bringing with him. It would take longer to move Lord Myningar's wagons, supplies, and men to the top of the plateau than he had originally thought.

There was no way of knowing how many wagons filled with war causalities Lord Myningar would be bringing with him. From what he had just learned, he accepted it was impossible to have all the wagons and supplies lifted to the top of the plateau by the day after tomorrow, as he had hoped.

Lord Og knew that King Timon would insist on meeting with Lord Myningar as soon as he arrived. He would need to keep a lift prepared to bring Myningar to the plateau once he arrived. Before then, he needed to arrange for the Healers to be transported to the prairie; they would be ready for the wounded.

There were a lot of preparations that needed to be made to facilitate the healers, and he needed to return to the top of the plateau and help with the arrangements. They had a few hours to get everything in place and ready. The wagons would be the best places to work on the wounded soldiers, and the plateau entrance needed to be re-staged.

The supplies that were on the wagons would need to be stacked around the lifts in preparation for them to be loaded on the lift and transported onto the plateau. Wagons needed to be waiting at the top of the lifts to have the supplies unloaded from the lifts and hauled away. This would increase the lift times, but the wounded men couldn't be laid out on the wet ground. It is going to be another long night, he thought.

# Chapter 38

"Has your unit seen any fighting? Lord Kimberlee ask King Timon's scouts, "If so, how many men did you lose?"

"No fighting since we left Ranker Thor," the scout replied. "For the most part, we were on the cleanup detail. We had two men wounded, and they are with the King's forces, but other than that, we were lucky."

Lord Kimberlee knew that when the column of people from Yemenor met up with the main army led by Lord Baintor, there would be a desire for the soldiers and their families to seek out and find each other. He knew this would cause everything to come to a halt, and they would lose half a day's travel.

"Let's ride ahead and meet with Lord Baintor. We need to resolve some logistical issues," Lord Kimberlee suggested to Lord Baintor's scouts. Leaning over, he told Lord Parterre, "We will be back. Keep the column heading due east."

Lord Kimberlee and the two scouts left to meet up with Lord Baintor. It only took half an hour for them to reach the lead scouts and another twenty minutes before they met up with Lord Baintor who was already riding to meet with them.

Lord Kimberlee explained his concerns about the two groups meeting and how reuniting families could create a problem. They agreed that Lord Baintor's army would stop and get turned around; Lord Kimberlee's column would pass them, continuing their march toward Benflyn Dor, with Lord Baintor falling in behind the column after they had passed.

Kimberlee had his concerns, as many of the families' soldiers would not be with Lord Baintor's forces, thus, there would be great disappointment for many of the people. Additionally, reuniting families with their soldiers could prevent them from an early start in the morning. But... who was he to keep the families apart?

Tonight, they would stop early, and the kitchen units would prepare food for the entire group. This would give the soldiers that had families in the column the chance to reunite and spend time together. Even though it was tempting, they eventually agreed that the army would sleep in their camp, and the citizens would stay in their camp. In the morning, Lord Kimberlee would take the lead, and the army would remain behind to protect the rear flank of the Yemenite column.

The camp was filled with music, hope, disappointment, laughter, and concerns. Eventually, Lord Kimberlee broke down and walked back through the camp until he found his wife and children. It was nice to spend the evening with them. Knowing they were a part of the wagon train behind was a constant pull on his heart, but he felt obligated not to afford himself liberties that the men under his command weren't allowed.

It bothered him, but he understood why his wife decided to fall back in the column and travel with the Queen and her ladies-in-waiting. The Queen had always been kind to his wife; she had arranged their meeting and encouraged their courtship.

The evening seemed too short, but Lord Kimberlee knew he needed time with Lord Baintor to make the necessary plans for the next day's travel. The army's cooking units needed to be combined so that the army's food didn't get filled with the dust created by the column.

When Lord Kimberlee sat down to meet with Lord Baintor, he questioned him as to why King Timon had sent such a small army to protect the people fleeing Yemenor. It was then that Lord Baintor explained that his was the smaller advanced force, ordered to quickly march to intercept Lord Kimberlee at the earliest possible time. They had been marching into the night and waking up before light to continue the march. Lord Baintor explained that tonight was the first night his men had eaten anything other than hard meat and dried bread.

The bulk of the army led by Lord Capnar was following closely behind. They agreed to send scouts out in the morning to meet up with Lord Capnar and his army. In case the Shakarine were to catch up to them, it would be nice to know how far away the reinforcements were. Plans would need to be made for when the two groups came together, bringing more families together.

Noblem was right; they were the third group called from the cell to prepare to fight. Havendar explained to Tarrie what Noblem had told him the night before. Before Havendar could finish telling Tarrie that he would rather die with honor than with the shame of deception, she held up her hand, touching Havendar on the lips to stop him from saying more.

"If we die today, we will die with honor," Tarrie said. "Now, we need a strategy."

Everyone would expect Havendar to protect Tarrie in the arena; perhaps they should give them what they expected. The plan was simple. Havendar would try to protect Tarrie from an attack, and if he could, he would quickly dispose of whomever they were fighting. If by chance, one of their opponents were to get through his defenses, Tarrie would pretend to be lucky in defending herself until Havendar could come to her assistance. They agreed that if one of the opponents slipped through Havendar's defense of Tarrie, he would need to immediately come to her defense. She couldn't constantly be lucky enough to defend herself against an opponent and be believable.

Havendar and Tarrie dressed in their outfits. Just before the gate opened, their coach brought in their weapons. When their coach refused to look into their eyes, it was further evidence to Havendar that Noblem was right. He gave them no advice and left almost immediately muttering, "Good luck," as he left them standing alone in the room.

On the other side of the gate, was the grand arena. As the cheering subsided, the gate opened and Havendar walked out into the arena. From across the arena, three men started to approach them. Havendar looked around, noticing that Tarrie hadn't even entered the arena. When he turned toward the approaching men, he heard Tarrie shriek. Turning to the sound, he could see that someone from the room had pushed Tarrie out into the arena and closed the gate behind her.

Tarrie slid against the wall, staying behind Havendar. Havendar smiled – she was indeed a good actress. As he turned toward the three men, he bent down to tighten the strap on his boot; the men divided, with two of them heading toward the edge of the arena.

They were either trying to flank him or get around him and attack Tarrie. Looking down, as though he wasn't paying attention to what the other men were doing, he could see they had no interest in Tarrie – at least for now. As he lifted the buckle on his boot, he leaped forward pulling his fighting knife, as he charged and tackled the man in the center.

They rolled to a stop, and Havendar held his knife against the throat of the man. He waited, expecting a trumpet to sound to verify a kill. There was no trumpet, and there was no time. Flipping the knife in his hand so that he was holding the blade, Havendar hit the man he was holding as hard as he could with the hilt of his knife; knocking him out and knocking the knife out of his hand. The man crumpled to the ground immediately.

Looking around, he saw the other two men approaching him from each side. Drawing his throwing knife, Havendar ran toward the second man. He threw the blade, burying the hilt in the sword shoulder of the second man and watched him collapse to the ground. Turning to face the third man, Havendar's opponent stopped his charge and began to slowly circle Havendar to his left. The third man was moving to position himself between Havendar and his fighting knife.

Havendar had two other throwing knives but wished he had his sword. The coach had failed to bring it as part of his weapons. Pulling both weapons, Havendar knew he had to forget about his fighting knife for now. His last opponent circled to his right, inching forward with each step.

Finally, the third man charged, swinging his sword. Havendar rolled to the side and let the man pass him. This happened two more times before Havendar could get close enough to his fighting knife to grab it. Placing one of the throwing knives in his harness, he grabbed the fighting knife.

The next time the man charged, Havendar didn't dive and roll away. Instead, he rolled toward the charging man. The quickness of the move surprised the charging man and allowed Havendar to get close enough so that the man was forced to short swing his sword, and he missed Havendar completely.

Havendar used his legs to entangle the charging opponent, causing him to fall to the ground. As he fell, Havendar pinned his sword arm to the ground. Placing his fighting knife at the base of the man's skull, he waited for the trumpet.

The fight was over. The crowd erupted in cheers. Some of the guards helped the other men out of the arena while Havendar collected his weapons. He could see Tarrie still crouched against the wall near where they entered the arena. Walking over to her, he helped her to her feet and waved to the crowd as they left the arena.

Their coach greeted them, as they entered the area behind the arena wall. He didn't have anything to say – he just collected their weapons and left immediately. As Havendar and Tarrie entered the cell where they had spent the night, they found Noblem sitting in one of the chairs near the table. When Havendar looked up, he could see Noblem shaking his head. He knew Noblem was not pleased that Havendar and Tarrie had won their fight.

A lump grew in Noblem's throat. That damned ranger pride, he thought. More rangers have been killed in the arena because of that than any other reason. There was nothing more Noblem could do for Havendar and the woman. Perhaps when he finished his fight, he would be able to give some coaching advice to Havendar as to some strategies to deploy in the "free-for-all".

While Noblem had never fought in a free-for-all, he had talked with men who had. The good news for Havendar was if they won, the rules of the arena wouldn't allow them to fight in another for a year.

King Timon's guards led Yron and Brelyah to the cave at the north of the plateau. As Yron studied the etchings on the rock above the door of the room, he could see King Timon's men setting up a tent for Brelyah and him.

Yron discovered a magic seal that protected the entrance. The children that were playing in the area must have accidentally tripped a lever that exposed the entrance.

Looking around, Yron found an old log which he placed at the entrance of the cave to prevent it from closing. It wouldn't be a good thing if somehow the lever was once again pressed, and the door closed.

It wasn't long after the guards had the camp set that one of the King's messengers brought Yron the Inset sword that had wounded the Prince. It was wrapped tightly in canvas. "The King would like updates concerning what you have learned about the sword and the cave," the messenger reminded him. Yron understood and promised he would provide the updates.

Brelyah had been following Yron everywhere he went. She was beginning to annoy him; he was not accustomed to having someone with him at all times, king over his shoulder when he unwrapped the sword, Yron stopped. "I cannot do this with you looking over my shoulder," he explained. "Maybe you could copy the script that is written around the doorway of the room onto this paper," he suggested, as he pulled a roll of paper and a quill from his pack.

Brelyah understood. As she walked away from Yron toward the entrance of the room, she was proud of herself. She had gotten Yron to give her what she wanted – time alone to study the writing around the entrance. It reminded her of some of the old script written on the tapestries that had hung from the walls in the grand libraries at Valkreen.

As Yron revealed the Inset sword, he couldn't help but notice the similarities between this sword and the sword he had found in the cavern where he discovered the white tree. Brelyah was preoccupied with the script on the door. The King's messenger was lying on one of the flat rocks nearby, and the guards who were setting up Yron's tent had left.

Grabbing his pack, Yron placed the King's Inset sword on one of the flat stones that surrounded the camp then pulled the sword that reminded him of the King's Inset sword from his pack. He studied both swords. They were the same length and both had inscriptions that ran from the tip of the sword to the hilt. While the hilts and decorations of both swords had style differences, Yron's initial thought was that they could have been made by the same forger.

Upon further inspection, Yron noticed that each sword had a different crest on its hilt. Also, the sword Yron found in the cavern had a blue streak inlaid with white running the length of the sword. The inscription, while written in the same script, varied differently in letter types and words, but something inside Yron led him to believe the inscriptions on the two swords were incredibly similar. Yron cast a Detect Magic spell on the swords, but neither sword indicated any magical properties.

Perhaps if I change the words of the spell slightly, he thought. Recasting the spell, he changed the chant several times. After a few variations, the King's Inset sword slightly shimmered blue, indicating it had some magical properties; the sword from the cavern revealed no magical properties whatsoever. Where the blade met the hilt on the Inset sword, he found what he first thought was a symbol but later concluded it was something that had been etched into the sword after its creation.

As Yron studied the etching, the thought came to him that it was a name or some way of identifying the sword. Pulling the fighting knife from his pack, Yron could see that his knife had the same open space but no inscription. He would need to study this later, but for now, Brelyah was calling for him – she had found something. Wrapping up the swords and knife, Yron placed them in his pack and headed toward the entrance to the room where Brelyah was standing.

As Yron approached the entrance to the cavern, he could tell Brelyah was looking at an inscription on the wall. She was unable to make out the symbol because part of the rock surrounding the entrance had broken off. "We won't be able to inscribe that unless we find the missing piece of stone," he recognized. "We can look for the piece of stone later," turning to Brelyah, Yron asked, "Would you like to go inside?"

Brelyah nodded with enthusiasm.

Stepping inside, Yron cast a Light spell on the shelves located in the middle of the room. As the room was illuminated, they could see stacks and stacks of scrolls and books piled on row after row of shelves throughout the entire room. On one wall, hung a giant map of the High Plains. Next to it, was a map of a city called Uropea. Yron recognized the entrance to the plateau on the northern side of the map and to the side of it was a tiny box colored red. The box must indicate this library. If that was the case, there were many such libraries located throughout the plateau and Uropea.

Upon closer scrutiny, the size of the city – its roads, water and waste systems, along with an intricate map of the tunnels that ran throughout the city under the surface of the plateau – was evident. It appeared to Yron that many of the tunnels ran to the rim of the plateau. The tunnels must have been made so ancient scouts could report on what was going on in the area without alerting the people of Uropea.

The story of the events surrounding the child who found the room was enough for Yron to cast a Detect Magic spell. Many of the scrolls showed the dim, blue, shimmering light, indicating magic was used in either creating the scroll or sealing them. On the far side of the room, behind one of the scroll shelves with the familiar misty blue light emanating from it, was what surely appeared to be the outline of a door. There must be a hidden door! Yron thought with excitement.

As he looked around the room to assess all the items that were magically enhanced, he noticed Brelyah studying the wall where the hidden door was located. "What are you looking at?" Yron asked. Brelyah turned toward Yron, a surprised look followed by embarrassment was etched on her face.

"Uhh... nothing. I just thought I saw something. I must be wrong," Brelyah replied awkwardly.

How could Brelyah have seen the Detect Magic spell he had cast? He was sure she had been running her finger down the light that indicated a magical seam in the rock. Was it an unlikely coincidence, or was she able to see the indicator of a magical presence?

Yron knew only wizards and some rangers had the ability to see a Detect Magic spell. Yron studied her carefully and again wondered if she had magical abilities. Remembering back to the Invisibility spell that had been cast when the scouts had approached them out on the prairie, Yron reminded himself he needed to stay on alert around her.

That was when something caught his eye that heightened his suspicions. Attached to her waist, under her clothing, he noticed a light blue hue. There was something with a magical essence tucked under her belt. Although there wasn't enough to make up a potion, something was there. While he only heard rumor of its existence, maybe it could be some sort of invisibility dust. However, except for the last few minutes, there was nothing about Brelyah's behavior or demeanor that would give any indication of magical abilities whatsoever.

That was close, Brelyah thought, looking around the room attempting to give enough time to get distracted and forget what he might have thought he saw, I need to be more careful.

Shaking his head at the mystery, Yron turned back to exploring his surroundings. He was intrigued about the entire cavern. He noticed the lack of a musty smell in the room. It had been sealed for a very long time, but unlike the cavern with the white tree, there was no dust anywhere in the cavern. On the table below the maps, were several stacks of books. When he picked up the tomes, there was a color imprint indicating something had sat there for a long time, but there were no dust marks.

Above each scroll upon the shelves, were markings that Yron supposed told what type of scroll was beneath the label. The room was larger than Yron had thought when he initially entered. Casting two more Light spells, Yron could see all four walls. Next to the door, he could see where a small explosion had taken place. This must be where the child was burned, he thought.

The walls were smooth as if made from wooden planks. Strangely, somehow the rock had been chiseled smooth. Who would have the time to do such a thing? Yron wondered. Even the cavern with the white tree didn't have smooth rock walls. On the far wall, Yron could see an alcove cut into the rock. As he approached it, he realized it was an entrance into another room.

Casting another Light spell as he entered the next room, Yron could see the room was filled with rows of shelves holding books. Yron had never seen so many books, not even in the giant libraries hidden on Valkreen that Raaj had taken him to when he was doing research for the wizards' meetings.

As Yron stood in the doorway looking at all the books, Brelyah approached, wanting to see what Yron was looking at. When she moved by Yron, he was forced to lean against the wall to provide enough room for her to pass. As he did so, he had a flash of inspiration. The rock walls within the cavern hadn't been carved; they had been cut with magic!

The walls appeared to be exactly like the rock road that led to the top of the plateau. It dawned on Yron that if magic had been used to build the road, there was no reason why he couldn't use magic to repair the road. Somewhere in one of these books could be the spell that was used to carve the rock tunnels, the road to the top of the plateau, and this room. If only Brelyah could read magic or cast a Decipher spell, she could help him find it.

"I need your help," Yron said to Brelyah. "We need to see if, in any of these books, we can find any reference to the spell that was used to build the road on the face of the plateau. If I write down a spell, do you think you could read it perfectly and use the proper pronunciation?" he asked. "The spell will help you interpret the writing on these books and scrolls, meaning we can search them in half the time."

"I will try," she replied nervously.

The Interpret spell was by far one of the simpler spells to cast; Yron decided to try to teach it to her. Brelyah wrote down the words, as Yron gave her the verbiage of the spell. Once she had written the spell down, Yron had her recite it back to him. For the next hour, Yron tried to help Brelyah cast the spell by reading the words she had written.

He couldn't blame her for not being able to cast the spell. After all, it had taken him weeks, before he was able to cast his first real spell by use of a chant. Yron could tell Brelyah was getting frustrated because of her inability to enunciate the chant properly to make it work. "Perhaps if I let you practice on your own," Yron offered. He knew the added pressure of Raaj watching him while he was trying to learn a new spell had made it harder for him.

Brelyah quickly agreed.

Yron recognized the anguish on her face, the fear of failure, and the fear that if she didn't get it right, she wouldn't get a second chance. As he started to leave, he turned and said, trying to reassure her, "Magic is hard. Don't worry. We will have many opportunities to practice. Please don't worry."

Yron appreciated Brelyah's forced smile, but it only reminded him of the times when he felt the same way. He would need to be sensitive to her feelings, but this was not the time.

As Brelyah watched Yron walk back into the book room, she sighed in relief. While the Interpret spell was slightly different than the one she knew, to intentionally struggle with the chant so that Yron would believe she wasn't able to cast it was the hardest part.

Yron picked up two books from the table under the maps. There was really no sense in staying in the library. It would be easier on Yron's eyes to read outside in the sunlight. If she wanted, Brelyah could practice her spell out in the fresh air.

"I will take a book outside for you to practice with, if you want," Yron offered. He could see Brelyah had heard him, but she remained seated and focused on the words Yron had given her for the spell.

Yron sat down on the ground, leaning against one of the rocks with his pack sitting alongside him. He opened a book that had an image of a sword on it. The sword reminded him of the Inset sword that had mortally wounded the King's son. As he skimmed the text, he realized it was hard to fully understand the book. It was written in an old script; Yron couldn't really decipher the letters of the words, making him unable to fully interpret what was written.

The book was about some of the more famous Inset items of the time. From what Yron could understand, very few people were rich enough to have an Inset item made for them. Of those who could afford it, even fewer had the ability to make the creation of an Inset item worthwhile. Everyone who purchased an Inset item was taught the spell so that they would be able to cast their Insets into their item of choice at their death. Once the individual cast the spell, their Insets would be transferred to the object, and they would immediately pass away.

If someone were to die before they could cast the Inset, anyone who picked up the item would only have a finely crafted item that was of no use to them unless they knew the spell. For the most part, Yron knew the history of the Inset. After the initial explanation of the Inset item, the book seems filled with descriptions of some of the most powerful Inset items of that time along with the attributes the person wearing or using the Inset would gain by possessing it.

While the reading was interesting, Yron stored the book in his pack and opened the other book he had brought outside with him. Skimming the first few pages, Yron realized the book was a journal of the construction projects on the plateau that the author was involved with. There was mention of the two wizards who worked to build all the rock projects in and around the plateau. While there was a mention of the road they had built so that the people, wagons, and livestock could walk up onto the plateau, more of the discussion of the rock-working wizards dealt with their efforts building the tunnel network under the plateau.

Suddenly, Yron could hear yelling and people arguing. Telling Ky to stay, Yron got up from where he was and climbed out of the entrance area to the library where the guards had set up his tent and ran along the edge toward the northern rim of the plateau. Yron was surprised the library was so close to the entrance of the plateau. Behind him, walked one of the guards who were assigned by the King to protect Yron and Brelyah. The guard had been watching as Yron climbed up the rock stairs that lead away from the entrance to the library.

As Yron looked over the edge of the cliff, the commotion, as it turned out, was the arrival of several thousand people along with their wagons and animals. Lord Myningar's garrisons on the prairie floor were helping stage the people so that they could be lifted to the plateau. From his position, Yron could see where Tristina was being kept. It wasn't fair to leave her below. He would need to comfort her while she was lifted to the top of the plateau on one of the lifts. Announcing to the guard his intentions, Yron headed toward one of the lifts so he could go down to the prairie floor and tend to his horse.

"Please inform Brelyah where I have gone," Yron requested of the guard.
Chapter 39

Sartura sought an immediate audience with Lord Myningar when he arrived at Tamar Wayne. While his men recognized her as the People's Champion, Arutras, she still had to wait for Lord Myningar's men to announce she was waiting to meet with him. She watched as the guard gave Myningar the news she had requested to meet with him. As Lord Myningar looked for her amongst the soldiers milling around his newly formed command center, the guard pointed in her direction.

Waving her forward, Sartura approached, and the two walked away from the rest of the men to talk. They hadn't gotten more than ten feet before a messenger from King Timon interrupted them announcing the King's request to meet with Myningar, as he handed him a scroll with the King's seal. Sartura realized she would need to wait to continue her conversation with Lord Myningar until he finished the King's business. As she turned to leave, Lord Myningar asked her to accompany him while heading through Tamar Wayne and up to the top of the plateau where the King was waiting.

Sartura stood looking at the commander of the King's army and thinking to herself how grateful, she was for Lord Myningar's support over the years. She knew how upset her father would be if he ever found out about her fighting in the games, or that she had been the commander of the garrison that brought the catapults into Tamar Wayne that were being set up to be a part of Benflyn Dor's new defenses.

Lord Myningar had given her freedom – freedom from all the socializing of the court. Of course, she had to squeeze in her training between all the silly stuff she was required to do as Princess, but in those times when she could do so, Lord Myningar taught her the art of the sword.

The last time they had practiced, before he went off to defend the northern border from the invading Shakarine, he told her she could be the greatest swordsman in the land if she were able to develop the strength, endurance, and stamina necessary. This hurt her, but it made her more determined than ever to develop what she needed to be successful.

Lord Myningar broke the seal and read the King's note. He looked up saying, "We need to find a way to get you out of that armor and into some riding clothing. Your father wants you to accompany me to meet with him," Lord Myningar explained softly.

Sartura nodded. This was going to be complicated. Turning to the King's messenger, Lord Myningar ordered him to tell the King he would be leaving in a few minutes. Lord Myningar needed to get his men prepared to settle in before he could leave, and he needed to give orders to set up a defensive barrier around their camp.

The two walked back to where Lord Myningar had started to set up his command center. As they did so, Lord Myningar explained to Sartura that after she had changed into her riding clothing, she would need to slip her chainmail over the leather riding armor. He didn't want to give the soldiers she had commanded any opportunity to realize that Princess Sartura was their beloved Arutras.

Once they reached the top of the plateau, Lord Myningar explained that he would provide an opportunity for her to remove the chainmail and place it in a pack, and then they would go to meet her father. "You will not be able to keep playing the game of being Arutras for long," Lord Myningar stated. "I didn't sign up for this, and you know it. You placed me in a difficult situation back at King Holben's castle. I will not be drawn into that situation again," he said with a glare.

Sartura nodded. She knew she had put Lord Myningar in a tough position. It wasn't on purpose, but she was so tired of playing the Princess role. Taking command and leading the men to secure the catapults had seemed so natural to her, she almost forgot about the life of being a Princess. Her life changed the moment she saw the catapults under attack and realized that sword fighting was not an arena game.

At that moment, her resolve to protect and defend her people took control of her actions. From the top of the hill, she saw her people attacked, and she needed to protect them. It was her concern for the men that were being attacked and adrenaline that drove her to charge the enemy forces. It wasn't until the fighting was over, and she stood there drenched in blood, that she realized how close to death she had come. It was then that she knew things had to change. To the core of who she was, she knew the days of being Princess Sartura were about to end.

It didn't take Sartura long to make the change, and once she had, she watched, as Lord Myningar finished making his last few orders to prepare his men to defend Tamar Wayne. Sartura knew she had to continue to play the role of Arutras until they had gotten on the lifts, and she could get out of the chainmail. Walking behind Lord Myningar, she knew her role was that of an aide to the great Lord of Yemenor.

They arrived at the lifts just as one was preparing to be hoisted to the top of the plateau. Lord Myningar ordered the lift to be held until he, and his aide, could climb on board and secure themselves. It took almost twenty minutes for the lift to get them to the top of the cliff. Once there, Lord Myningar led Sartura to one of the wagons waiting for a team of horses to come and drag it away from the staging area.

He motioned for Sartura to go behind the wagon to change, while he stood guard. Sartura looked around then ducked in behind the wagon. Removing her sword, she lifted the chainmail over her head. It was only after she had started to place the chainmail and sword into her pack that she saw the young man standing on the ridge behind her not more than twenty feet away.

He watched her every move. The intensity of his stare made her feel uncomfortable. She felt as though his eyes had pierced deep into who she was, although his stare was almost comforting at the same time. Initially, she didn't return his stare, but something drove her to look into the young boy's eyes. For what seemed like hours, their eyes were locked.

From the way he was looking, Sartura knew he had no idea who she was, and he did not intend to engage her in any conversation. Tucking the rest of her chainmail into her pack, Sartura turned to leave. As she did, she saw one of the King's guards climb onto the ridge and stand next to the young man.

"Your Highness," the guard said as he bowed, greeting her.

"Justin," she replied nodding back.

Walking around the back of the wagon, Sartura shouted, "Lord Myningar, some protection you are!" she laughed. "This young man was able to sneak up on me while you were standing just a few feet away. No need for you to worry, as Justin here came to my rescue."

Lord Myningar raced around the corner of the wagon to see what Sartura was talking about. Lord Myningar acknowledged Justin, the King's guard, with a nod. The young man Justin was accompanying studied Lord Myningar and Sartura before he left and headed toward the lift.

Once the young man was out of hearing range, Lord Myningar asked Justin, "Who is that?"

"It is the maiggii of the Grand Master Wizard," Justin replied. "King Timon has commanded he be protected as if he were a part of the King's family." Quickly excusing himself, Justin ran off, chasing after the young maiggii.

Yron turned to walk toward the lifts. What is the King's daughter doing removing chainmail armor and sword before hiding them in a pack? And why is Lord Myningar playing along with her ruse? Yron wondered. It was obvious to him that Lord Myningar hadn't recognized him, but he had recognized the man whom Raaj once declared was the greatest swordsman of all time.

He had heard of the Lord. Raaj wasn't the only one that talked about Lord Myningar of Yemenor. It wasn't the tournament wins that Raaj talked about, rather it was the time the man defended the future Queen of Yemenor from a horde of bandits, as she was traveling outside the castle before her wedding day. Raaj said Lord Myningar had fought and killed over twenty men giving the Queen time to escape.

Because the future Queen was unable to explain where the attack took place or who the young man was that had come to her rescue, no search party was sent out to investigate. It was three days later – the day after the Queen's wedding – that a man was discovered lying on the road outside the castle's main gate. Sword wounds on his legs were cut to the bone, and his right arm was nearly severed. As the King's guard investigated the appearance of the man, they concluded by the markings in the dirt that he had dragged himself with his one good arm toward the entrance of the castle.

As Raaj explained it, it was on the morning of the honeymoon when the King was leaving the castle with his new bride that the royal guards found young Myningar lying unconscious alongside the road leading out of the castle. It was then the Queen recognized the young man as the one that provided her with the ability to escape the bandit attack.

Lord Myningar became a legend. He had made a name for himself in the games and as a warrior on the field of battle. Raaj once told Yron that you would have to travel a great distance off the High Plains before you could find people who had not heard of Lord Myningar.

When Yron first learned they were going to be heading to Yemenor (after Darmuth had given Raaj the King's request,) he was excited to meet the great Lord Myningar. Never, in any of his dreams, did he imagine that meeting Lord Myningar would be this anticlimactic.

It was obvious his guard knew both the Princess and Lord Myningar, so perhaps he would be able to provide some insight as to what the Princess was doing. Yron was standing near one of the lifts where cargo was off-loaded onto the plateau when the King's guard finally caught up with him.

"I would like to go down," Yron explained to the lift operator.

"No one is permitted to travel off the plateau without Lord Og's permission," the lift operator explained.

"This one can use the lifts at his will," Justin explained to the lift operator.

As the lift operator looked over his shoulder toward Lord Og, he knew he couldn't argue with one of the King's guards. The lift operator felt trapped and was nervous to disobey Lord Og's orders, but it was the King's guard who had told him to lower the young man to the prairie.

Justin could see the lift operator's dilemma. "Perhaps it would make you feel more at ease if you called Lord Og over before you lowered us to the prairie floor," Justin suggested.

"Yes, that would make things easier for me," the lift operator gratefully explained.

When Justin agreed, Yron could see the relief cross over the lift operator's face. Yron liked Justin. He could have forced the issue, but he didn't. Yron hoped the King would let Justin be his guard for the duration of his stay here.

Lord Og thanked the lift operator for the caution but informed him he didn't need to be called to confirm the requests of the King's guards or officers. The lift was ready to be lowered, and as Lord Og turned to walk away, Yron and Justin boarded the lift and secured themselves for the ride down.

Yron studied the cliff walls, as the lift lowered them past the old road that lead to the top of the plateau. The walls where the road had been cut into the face of the cliff were as smooth as the walls in the library.

Yron knew the road was cut into the face of this cliff with the use of magic. The rest of the way down, Yron tried to remember if Raaj had ever mentioned anything about a spell used to cut rock. There was nothing in his memory, nothing Raaj had ever mentioned, nothing he had heard in any of the discussions that took place at the Mascar, nothing he could even remember being mentioned in any of the Guardian of the Guild meetings he had attended with Raaj.

Once they reached the prairie floor, Yron walked over and placed his hand on the rock wall. It was as smooth as ice. Even after all these years of weathering, there was no erosion. As Yron went about feeding and watering Tristina and Brelyah's horse, his mind was on trying to figure out the spell used to cut the stone roadway. Tristina was not going to let Yron go without getting her share of attention. She kept placing her nose against Yron's shoulder until he scratched her ears and under her chin.

Smiling to himself, Yron admitted Tristina had always been an attention hog. At one time, Yron had tried to develop a Scratch spell, hoping he could cast the spell and eventually Tristina would get all the attention she wanted. Sadly, he had never been able to finish it, so Tristina was never able to get the attention.

After a while, Yron went back to the rock wall. He sat down on the roadway and leaned against the cut wall. As he studied the wall, he didn't get the impression it had been cut using heat or any other element. It had been peeled away, just like you would peel fruit with a knife.

They had used a magic knife, not a literal knife but the spell was able to carve or mold the rock somehow. As he leaned against the wall, he began to wonder why something like the spells used to carve wooden statues or metal figurines couldn't be used to cut rock. He had watched the magical sculptors perform their crafts at the Mascar over the last six years. On several occasions, Yron memorized their chant, but when he returned home, he was unable to cast the spell.

It wasn't just the storm the night before that had prevented Yron from getting much sleep. His concern for Brelyah when she marched out of the shelter after Ky had shaken himself off bothered him. There was too much happening in his life; he wasn't accustomed to all the drama. He needed a nap, and since all the lifts were at the top of the plateau being unloaded, it would be another hour before a lift would be able to take them to the top of the plateau. Sitting down, he told the King's guard; he was going to take a quick nap.

Sartura and Lord Myningar followed the guard, as he led them to the King's tent. Sartura knew it was protocol for Lord Myningar to walk behind her, but she wanted to talk with him, so she grabbed him by the arm and forced him to walk alongside her.

"The maiggii saw me change out of the chainmail," Sartura hurriedly explained to Lord Myningar. "What should we do?" she asked nervously.

"I will talk to Justin," Lord Myningar suggested. "Perhaps he will have some persuasion over the young wizard. Did Justin see anything?"

"No, only the wizard, I am sure," she sighed but continued, "You must stop him from saying anything to my father."

"Say what to your father?" the King boomed, his voice startling them both. Neither of them had seen the King approach. "It doesn't matter," the King continued with a laugh, letting them know he was jesting. Grabbing his daughter, he attempted to swing her around while she resisted making it impossible. "I guess you are too old for that," the King admitted. "You have gotten so big."

As Sartura's "I am annoyed" glare flashed across her face, the King could see he was not winning any points with his daughter. Trying a different tactic, he simply smiled with a look of adoration hoping she would understand how much he had missed her and how happy he was by her return.

"Sartura, perhaps you would like to go inside and freshen up," the King suggested.

Sartura knew what that meant. Her father wanted to talk with Lord Myningar alone, and he didn't want her to hear what he was saying. Stomping off would do no good, and protesting would only cause her father to get angry. It was a no-win situation for Sartura, so she bowed, smiled, and headed for the main tent where she knew there would be servants who could help her bathe. At least I'll finally be clean, Sartura thought with a smile.

"You can give me an update on King Holben later," the King directed. "What I want to know is whether you have any insights as to why the Kingdoms of the High Plains are being attacked by their neighbors."

"No idea, Your Majesty," Lord Myningar replied, "but we did receive messengers from other kingdoms, and they are under attack as well."

As King Timon listened to the accounts of the battles defending King Holben's castle against the Warteen, he finally couldn't stand it any longer.

"Havendar is missing," the King almost shouted. "He left on a mission to find the Shakarine army that disengaged us at Ranker Thor and never returned. I haven't seen him since that day," the King explained, his eyebrows drawing together in concern.

Silence hung in the tent for several seconds. Finally, the King spoke, "Havendar is like a son to me. He was ten years old when he was accepted into the Ranger's Guild. Three years later, his father passed. It was not until he was twenty years old that he returned to Yemenor requesting an assignment to serve the ranger apprenticeship in my court. Years later, I was pleased that he requested to a permanent assignment to the House of Yemenor. I knew that as the maiggii to Grand Master Noblem, he would have many assignments that would take him away, but his presence always brought welcome relief to the stress of being King," the King explained.

"The anguish of losing a son is already more than I can bear. Now to find out I have lost another member of my family is..." the King couldn't finish his statement.

Lord Myningar stood by his friend, his mentor, his King. He had nothing to say; the words were stuck in his throat. Placing his arm around his friend, he led the anguished man to the large chair where the King usually sat during War Council meetings. After helping the King sit down, Lord Myningar sat at the foot of the chair. This was indeed a time to mourn.

The tent door opened, and Sartura entered, freshly clean and showing all the graces of the Princess that she was. She could see her father's sorrow, as she approached him. "What is wrong?" she asked Lord Myningar.

"The King believes Havendar has passed." Lord Myningar whispered.

The news of Havendar's passing had the same effect on Sartura, as she dropped the cup of broth she had brought for her father and fell into one of the nearby chairs. Like everyone else in the room, Sartura stared at the floor and wrestled with the anguish of her heart.

The castle was just ahead. Raaj figured that the guards on the castle walls would have notified the garrison commander that a rider was approaching. If the scouting network he had set up were working correctly, the castle would have been notified of his approach over an hour ago. Raaj was pleased to find that when he got to the entrance door, Darmuth was waiting for him. "The scouts notified us of your approach," he explained.

Climbing off his Payleen, Raaj started to issue orders, "We need to call the Council together. I will give my report, and then together, we will decide what to do next."

As the men were gathering to hear Raaj's report, the wizard motioned to Darmuth that they needed to talk alone. Once they got in their room, Raaj pulled a wooden box from his pack. "I need you to take this to Yron," he said. "He will need it to cast the Inset spell on your brother."

"I can't just leave now," Darmuth protested. He didn't want it to appear he was leaving the castle before the fighting began. If he was going to be king someday, he couldn't start a legacy of running from an impending battle. Raaj explained that there was no evidence of a Warteen army approaching from the south. The Shakarine were at least two weeks away from being prepared to attack from the west, and there was no word of any army movement to the northeast.

Raaj then told Darmuth that Lord Kimberlee had requested they protect the castle for three weeks giving the people of Yemenor enough time to arrive at Benflyn Dor. Raaj explained that he was going to order all the men, except ten, to leave for Benflyn Dor in the morning. He needed Darmuth to lead those men. Raaj was convinced that with ten men, all their careful preparations, and a good Illusion spell that they could seriously weaken the attacking armies and hold them up for another day, maybe day and a half.

After the enemy's first day assault on the castle, Raaj and the men would leave through the tunnel in the middle of the night. They would meet up with Darmuth and the King at Benflyn Dor. Before they could finish their discussion, one of the men knocked on the door.

"The men are assembled," he reported.

Raaj turned to Darmuth, "I need your support on this, and you need to lead the men to meet up with your father. More importantly, that box needs to get to Yron, now! The Inset of your brother depends on it, and no one understands the importance of this more than you."

Raaj followed Darmuth, as they climbed down the stairs and headed to the courtyard where Raaj was going to talk with the men. Raaj quickly explained what he had found while scouting. He described that from what he could see, the Shakarine wouldn't be attacking for at least another two weeks, and that while the Warteen had spies watching the central prairie, there was no indication the army would arrive any sooner.

Raaj set out his plan to have all men head toward Benflyn Dor except for ten archers and himself. While those who remained behind would do their best to fight the troops from afar, Raaj would cast Illusion spells that would lead the Shakarine and Warteen to believe the castle was occupied by the Yemenor Army.

Answering several questions, Raaj picked the ten archers who were going to remain with him. His two criteria for the selection were that they were not related to anyone else who was staying at the castle, and they couldn't be married with a family.

Darmuth accepted the assignment to lead the men down the tunnel and through the northern prairie then follow the central corridor to Benflyn Dor. Raaj wanted them to prepare to leave before dark. They would camp at the exit door of the tunnel and leave at sun up. Raaj believed this would give their remaining scouts time to arrive at the castle and join up with Darmuth.

Raaj explained to Darmuth that he and his men would need to ride hard until they turned south on the central corridor to avoid the possibility of being spotted by Shakarine scouts that might still be lingering near Ranker Thor. It would be a five or six-day ride from here to the plateau. Raaj was sure Yron would be at the plateau by then. "I need you to give your father this message and take this message to Yron," Raaj said as he handed Darmuth both messages with his seal on them.

It was midday when the scouts from the south arrived at the castle. Darmuth ordered them to pack their belongings since they would be leaving before dusk. There was a lot that needed to be done before Darmuth was to leave. Raaj didn't see Darmuth again until nearly dusk. As Darmuth prepared to head down the tunnel, Raaj lifted his chin toward Darmuth, which said it all.

Raaj could see Darmuth's eyes begin to tear up, as he looked away. Darmuth raised his arm and let it fall pointing toward the tunnel entrance, as he started to lead the men down the tunnel to the exit near the eastern edge of the northern corridor. Raaj made sure they took all the horses except for Verser and the ten half-breed Payleen he brought with him.

As Darmuth prepared to leave, Raaj stopped him and handed him a small egg-shaped box saying, "This is a wizard's box. When you exit the tunnel and have bedded down for the night, if all is well, open the box. The magical light from the box will signal to me that everything has gone as planned. I will be the only one that will be able to see the signal," Raaj added, "Keep the box. Any wizard can recharge it."

Darmuth arrived at the tunnel exit, he relieved the men who were waiting there for the evacuation of the castle and explained to them that they were to travel with him to Benflyn Dor. Tonight, there would be no campfires.

Raaj stood on the eastern turret of the castle waiting for Darmuth's signal that they were out of the tunnel and prepared to bed down for the night. Two hours after dusk Raaj saw the dark blue signal from the box. All is well he sighed.

The noise of the staging crew loading one of the lifts woke Yron. He had been dreaming of recreating the spell used to carve the rock. The dream was so vivid, and the chant so clear that he tried to fall back to sleep in hopes he could hear the rest of the spell. But the noise of the staging crew was too distracting, and Yron knew he wouldn't fall back to sleep.

As he opened his eyes, he noticed there was something surrounding him; he was pinned to the ground. Something had bound his hands and was pressing tight against his entire body. He saw straight up the cliff to the lifts but had no peripheral vision. Yron hollered for Justin. The guard couldn't have been far away because it only took a moment for him to appear above Yron.

"What have you done?" Justin asked with a very strange and puzzled look on his face.

This only confused Yron more. "What have I done?" he replied. "I didn't do anything. I need help up. I seem to be stuck."

Justin reached down and grabbed Yron's arm. As he did so, Yron was able to sit up. When he sat up, whatever it was that had held him against the ground was gone. Yron stood and turned to see if he could discover what had held him to the ground. There in the rock where he had been leaning was a perfect imprint of the top half of Yron's body. Somehow, he had melted into the rock!

Yron touched the imprint of his body on the rock face. Its edges were smooth just like in the library room, and at the cliff face where the road cut into the rock. Yron had never heard of casting a spell in one's dream, but that was the only explanation he had. As Yron reflected on his dream, he was sure he could remember the chant and words.

In the dream, he had cast a spell on his body, thus, giving himself the ability to walk through rock. Maybe if he cast the spell on his hand only, then only his hand would melt the rock away. It took Yron three times to remember the chant exactly, but once he cast it on his hand, everywhere he tried to touch the rock, it melted away before he could get within ten to twelve inches of it. The chant required his full concentration. If he thought of something else, the spell lost its effectiveness and stopped working. Yron was fascinated by this new development in his magical abilities. He would have to work on it again later. It was time to get back to the top of the plateau.

Yron quickly got ready to head back to camp, but try as he might, he couldn't get Tristina to step onto the lift. If the lift didn't move, she would stand on the platform, but once the lift rose from the ground, Tristina jumped over the lifts sides. Yron tried two more times before he decided to feed and water her and leave her on the prairie floor for another night.

As Yron and Justin rode the lift to the top of the plateau, he looked at the old road that was used to bring supplies and wagons to the top of the plateau back in the times of the Shadow Wars. Perhaps I really can use the spell to rebuild the road, he thought. His thoughts were interrupted when the lift stopped at the top of the plateau.

Yron returned to his camp located near the library. Ky was laying at the entrance to the library, looking around. Yron assumed Brelyah was still in the library. As Yron walked toward the cave entrance, Ky barked and ran to meet him. It wasn't long before Brelyah walked out of the library to see what had caused Ky to bark.

"I gave up on your silly spell," Brelyah said, "but I found this book that has the same symbol on the cover as you have on your pack."

Yron saw as she walked toward him, that Brelyah had a slight limp. "Did you twist your ankle or something?" Yron asked.

Brelyah laughed, "No, I tripped over some stuff lying in one of the aisles and landed on my knee. It's nothing."

Yron looked at the book. He was unable to read the inscription, but the image on the front did indeed indicate it was a book from a Magic Guild. Yron thanked Brelyah and looked for a place to study the book.

Settling down on the grass, he leaned against one of the rocky outcrops in the clearing. There was no crease on the back of the book, indicating it had never been opened. Yron cast the Interpret spell, finding the front cover to read: "Spell Book." Yron was confused; spell books hadn't been used for hundreds of years. The Wizards' Guild forbade the use of them ever since Lord Malkanard had forced the wizards to turn over their spell books to him, giving him access to almost all known magic – this being one of the reasons for his quick rise to power.

Yron opened the book and turned to the first page, "The Spell Book of Master Glemmic, maiggii of the Grand Master of the Wizards Guild."

"Oh my gosh!" Yron exclaimed, as he slammed the book shut.
Chapter 40

King Timon heard the trumpets signaling that someone was approaching the entrance to the plateau. The second sound of the trumpet notified King Timon that he was needed.

The King was grateful for the distraction. Remembering his beloved friend's passing was hard for him to endure. Shortly after his arrival in the court as Master Noblem's maiggii, Havendar saved his life from the assassin's arrow.

He remembered that Havendar had tracked the assassin for several weeks after the assassination attempt before he caught up with him trying to board a ship bound for the port of Jarkara, the capital city port of the Warteen. King Timon was surprised to learn that although the assassin was headed to Jarkara, he was not one of the female barbarians who inhabited the mountainous lands to the south.

Breaking free of his memories, the King requested Lord Myningar to accompany him. He knew he didn't have to wait for an answer, as he turned and headed out of the tent. His horse was tied to the hitching post saddled and waiting for him. When the stable maser saw that Lord Myningar would be traveling with the King, he quickly dismounted his horse offering it to Lord Myningar.

As the two men rode toward the plateau entrance, King Timon turned to Lord Myningar, "Was she difficult for you?" he asked.

Lord Myningar smiled, "What? Sartura, difficult? You have to be kidding me!"

Both men laughed. It felt good to laugh. The King sighed; he had missed his old friend.

"Your Majesty, there is never a good time to be the bearer of bad news, but there is one more thing I need to tell you. Lord Fanver fell in the last battle at King Holben's castle. We were unable to find his body," Lord Myningar explained.

King Timon didn't say a word. Looking straight ahead, he remained silent.

"Did you hear me, Your Majesty?" Lord Myningar asked.

King Timon nodded his head slowly. He had heard every word. There was just nothing to say. His sadness was overwhelming and to make matters worse, somewhere on the central plains his Queen was fleeing from their home. He knew that here on the plateau he could provide her with safety, but while she was still on the plains, there was no safety – none at all.

When King Timon and Lord Myningar arrived at the entrance, Lord Og met them and stated, "A messenger from Tradiam has arrived. He refuses to talk with anyone but you, Your Majesty."

"Bring him to us," the King ordered.

As the two men waited for the arrival of the messenger from Tradiam, "I fear what he will ask."King Timon shared.

Before Lord Myningar could reply, the messenger arrived.

"I bring you a message from my father, King Tradiam," the messenger said with a bow.

Lifting back his hood, he presented his credentials along with a message with King Tradiam's seal stamped onto the seam of the parchment.

After King Timon broke the seal, he read the message. "This whole land is under attack," the King uttered out loud.

"Tell your father we welcome him and any others that seek the safety of Benflyn Dor," King Timon replied.

"He is already preparing to leave, Your Majesty and will be arriving within the month," the Prince reported. "May I return to my father and relay your message?"

"You may go," the King replied. "If you are willing, we will lend you a fresh horse for your return trip. Your horse will be safe here on the plateau awaiting your arrival."

"I accept your offer," the Prince replied and turned to head back to the lifts.

King Timon asked one of his guards to accompany the young Prince and to make sure that he was given a good horse for his return.

"He is no older than Darmuth. It is so sad that our children must be a part of this burden. Children should be free from the pains of war,"

Lord Myningar nodded his head. He dared not speak of the anguish raging in his heart. Somewhere on the central prairie, his wife, who was heavy with child, and their four children were fleeing toward Benflyn Dor. There was nothing he could do to help her. This hurt most of all.

Sartura watched her father and Lord Myningar leave responding to the call of the trumpets. As she watched them ride off into the distance, she replayed in her mind the events of the last week: delivering the note to Lord Myningar, the march to the catapults, the fight on the hill to save the catapults, Lord Jentree. She found that all these things filled her heart with contentment. Well, not really contentment but maybe a feeling of self-worth or that somehow, I am doing that which I was born to do.

From where she was standing, Sartura could see the entire camp. To the right, small cooking campfires were lit. She could hear the noise from the lifts, the sounds of wagons lifted to the top of the plateau being driven away, and horses being encouraged to pull the heavy lifts to the top of the plateau. And there, in the northeastern corner, was the camp of the maiggii wizard.

She remained unsettled by the way the maiggii wizard had watched her change. It was almost oblivious to him that she was a woman. It was as if he didn't know women even existed. She knew he was not watching to see her undressed because she had her riding clothing under her chainmail armor. It seemed that he saw more than was visible to the natural eye – almost like he knew something she didn't. How dare he look on her as he had!

Try as she might, Sartura couldn't quit thinking about the young wizard maiggii. Frankly, his look had unnerved her. It was as though he was looking through her, right into her heart. He made her feel as though her secrets were vulnerable. She hadn't had many experiences with anyone of the Wizards' Guild, so perhaps they were all like that. As she turned to enter her father's tent, the voice of the Oracle filled her mind again, "It will be the touch of a reluctant wizard that will win your heart and save the day."

A reluctant wizard, Sartura thought. The boy was a wizard, the maiggii of a wizard. She knew someday the boy would be required to challenge the Quasari, the test or last step to becoming a true wizard. As a child, she could remember running her finger along the tattoo design on Master Raajanaar's hand as he talked with her father.

The Master Wizard had once told her, when she questioned him about the tattoo, that it was a sign that he was a wizard. From what he explained to her, the tattoo was placed on his hand at the time he had proven himself during the Quasari. The tattoo was a symbol(to those that he cared to show it to) that he was a member of the Wizards' Guild. Without the tattoo, a person may be able to perform magic, but they were not a true wizard. Only wizards were given the keys and knowledge necessary to cast the most advanced spells.

Sartura could remember how, as a child, she was intrigued by Master Raajanaar's tattoo. She liked the way it would disappear when light shone on it for a long time, and how only in the shadows cast by moonlight, could the tattoo be seen in red. The shadow cast by the sun caused the tattoo to turn blue, but any other shadow would make it appear black.

Since becoming a maiggii was the last and final step one needed to take before they could challenge the Quasari and become a real wizard, Sartura wondered how far away the boy was from challenging the Quasari. Could he be the one to win her heart? Sartura scoffed at her fantasy, which she attributed to the imagination of a young girl's heart. She thought she had put away the thoughts of shining knights sweeping fair damsels off their feet and carrying them into happily ever after long ago.

She did need to talk to this young maiggii. Sartura decided that since her father was gone, it would be the perfect time to explain to this boy why it was required of him to keep his mouth shut about what he had seen. After all, Master Raajanaar was her friend, and he was the Master's assistant.

Grabbing one of the horses tied to the post near the tent, she rode directly toward the maiggii wizard's camp. Along the way, she reflected on the maiggii. He did have a pleasing face and sturdy shape. The innocence of his look caused her to... I can't go there, she thought. She pulled the reins, causing the horse to stop. Even though she wanted to talk to the boy, perhaps now was not the time.

It had been an exhausting day. Yron was trying to rest, but all he could hear was the men shouting directions, as they worked the lifts to bring wagons, supplies, and livestock to the top of the plateau. The spell he had uncovered, while sitting at the base of the cliff, that was once used to carve the roads into the face of the cliff also occupied his thoughts.

Yron got up, changed out of his nightwear and headed for the cliff. His actions caught Justin unprepared. He left before Justin could get ready. By the time the guard caught up with Yron, the young maiggii had convinced the lift operator to lower him to the prairie floor. Justin caught the lift, as it swung out over the ledge and started to lower Yron.

Once Yron got to the base of the cliff, he checked on Tristina to make sure she had plenty of food and water. After caring for his Payleen, he headed toward the road and cliff face. Yron sat on the pile of rocks; he needed to think about how this Rock Sculpting spell would work. As he did, Justin sat down and leaned against the face of the cliff, before long Justin had fallen asleep.

Casting the Rock Sculpting spell – he had dreamt about – on his hand, Yron waved his hand over the fallen rock on the roadway. Just as Yron expected, the rock pile melted away. Yron continued to climb up the road until he came to a place where the road had collapsed, and a section of the road was missing, thus, preventing the transportation of supplies to the top of the cliff.

Yron passed his hand over the rock attempting to use the spell to carve away the face of the cliff and cut a new road deeper into the cliff wall, but the spell was no longer effective. He had lost his concentration. Casting the spell again, Yron waved his hand next to the rock wall and the rock began to carve away which gave him the ability to create a new section of the road. It worked, he thought, but he realized he had to be careful where he waved his hand because it didn't matter what he intended, whenever his hand came close to the rock, it melted away.

After an hour of working on the road, Yron took a break. Casting the spell didn't make him feel tired but prolonging the spell, along with such single-minded concentration, caused him great mental fatigue. The work he had done wasn't as precise as the work of the original rock-carving wizards; however, it would provide a way for the wagons to travel up the road to the top of the plateau.

Justin had fallen asleep watching Yron. The guard was sleeping soundly, and Yron couldn't see a reason to awaken him. Instead, he inspected the work. He realized that he didn't need to cut the road as deep into the mountain as he had been. Completing the first section where the rock roadway had collapsed, Yron traveled farther up the road.

Yron walked about halfway up the face of the cliff when he came to the next rockslide. Initially, he was going to leave the rock on the road and allow the Yemenor workers to haul it away by wagon, but he could do in twenty minutes what would probably take several men an entire day. Above him, he could see where the rock had come from. The road above him had collapsed, and there was a section, over a hundred feet long, where he needed to cut a new road deeper into the cliff face.

Casting the spell again, Yron cleared the road of the debris that had fallen from above. Try as he might, however, he couldn't keep his concentration on the spell, when he arrived at the section of road that had collapsed, he needed to recast the spell again. Yron knew the essence of magic that a wizard used to cast a spell was a lot like endurance. If you didn't cast enough magic over a period of time to keep your endurance up, you would tire easily. Yron was beginning to feel the effects of not having used his magic over the last few weeks.

This collapsed section of the road was larger than he expected, but Yron was learning how to carve the rock more efficiency and with less effort. Yron worked on the road the rest of the night, Yron would traveled up the road until he came to rock debris, cleared the debris and then repair the road. After the fifth time he had cast the spell, his arm was exhausted. While sitting down to rest and massaging the aching muscles of his arm between spells, it he realized that he could use the other arm to carve as well.

Laughing at himself for not realizing this earlier, Yron cleared another pile of debris using his other arm. He was hiking to the next section of missing roadway when he felt a breeze coming from the cliff face. This wind was blowing right out of the rock! Yron had been able to use the light from the moons to provide him with the light he needed to carve the rock, but there wasn't enough moonlight for Yron to see what was causing the odd breeze.

As Yron prepared to cast a Light spell against the rock face, he heard the army below beginning to prepare for the day. It reminded him that casting a Light spell this high on the face of the cliff would be seen for miles. It was still an hour or so before the sun's rays would start to light the prairie, so he decided he would check out the mystery later. Casting a Marker spell so he could locate the area again, Yron continued to the next section of missing road and started to carve the new road into the face of the cliff.

By the time the sun had risen above the trees to the east, Yron was putting the finishing touches on the last section of road. Overhead, he could hear the lift operators harnessing the horses to the large lift lines. It wouldn't be long before they would be lowering the large platforms to the prairie floor to be loaded for their first lifts of the morning.

Yron's goal was to be finished and off the face of the cliff before the lift operators started their morning activities. As Yron walked down the road to the prairie floor, he knew he needed to be careful because of the slope of the road. He was tired, and his carelessness almost caused him to crash into the rock face on one of the switchbacks. Yron smiled as he passed the sleeping Justin. He would awaken him on the way back.

It didn't take him long to slip the stirrups over Tristina's shoulders and mount her. Grabbing the reins of Brelyah's horse, he turned Tristina and headed up the road. As he approached the sleeping Justin, the hoof noise of Brelyah's horse upon the rock caused him to wake up.

"Are you coming with me?" Yron asked.

Justin was still a little groggy when Yron urged the guard to climb onto Brelyah's horse and follow him up the road. When Justin complained about Brelyah's horse not having a saddle, Yron smiled and said, "Fine, I will see you at the top." Clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, he squeezed Tristina, and they started to gallop up the road to the top of the plateau.

The road exited onto the top of the plateau to the west of where the lifts were. The trees and undergrowth, which had not been cleared, created a barrier preventing Yron from riding Tristina back to his camp. It took another thirty minutes for Yron to cut the brush back far enough to get Tristina and Brelyah's horse to the clearing near where the lifts were set up.

Looking over the edge of the cliff, Yron could see Justin was still struggling to catch up with him. Yron to smile, as he rode away. Part of him wanted to wait for the poor guard to catch up, allowing him the opportunity to ride Brelyah's horse back to camp; another part of him wanted to wait until he had almost caught up and then ride off. In the end, Yron's exhaustion justified riding back to his camp while leaving the King's guard to follow on foot.

After signaling Raaj, Darmuth took the first watch. The castle looks fully occupied from this distance, Darmuth thought. Looking across the farmland that surrounded the castle, he smiled, as he thought about all the traps they had laid for the attacking armies. It was a little after two in the morning when Darmuth decided it was time for a change of the watch. He would be able to get six hours of rest.

The flash of light across the sky and the rattling of the thunder that followed woke Darmuth from his sleep. His first thought was that the castle was under attack and the Master Wizard was casting his magic –until the rain hit. In a matter of minutes, Darmuth was soaked. He wasn't the only one awakened by the lightning, thunder and rain.

With this rain, Darmuth knew no one would be getting any sleep tonight, and if they weren't going to sleep, they might as well be riding toward Benflyn Dor. The traveling would be slow without light, but Darmuth figured they could travel maybe ten to fifteen miles before dawn. By dawn, the rain had let up, and Darmuth was looking forward to the sun's warming rays.

Riding on the southern edge of the northern plains, Darmuth knew it would be noon before the sun would be directly overhead and able to cast its rays far enough over the trees to warm them. It was tempting to ride farther out on the plains, but that would expose them to anyone who might be watching for troop movement. Looking behind them, Darmuth could see that the rain had caused the ground to become muddy, and they were riding in such a way that their horse tracks would indicate the size of their company.

Ordering the men to ride in single file didn't hide the fact that horses had passed through the area, but it also didn't give any clue as to their number. They rode for the rest of the day hugging the tree line. By nightfall, everything but the bedrolls had dried. Darmuth opted to sleep on the ground hoping that by hanging his bedroll in a tree, the slight breeze would dry it out. His men follow his example.

The two men sat silently looking at each other. Finally, Noblem, using the ancient ranger sign language, told Havendar, You won't be fighting in the free-for-all. I have taken care of it. Noblem stood and walked toward Havendar reaching out his right arm and grabbing Havendar by the wrist. Havendar returned the grasp. "Never surrender," Noblem said.

"Never surrender," Havendar replied.

Havendar knew by Noblem's actions that he didn't believe they would see each other again. When he tried to look into Noblem's eyes, he would turn away. There was something Noblem didn't want him to see. Moments later, Noblem was escorted from the room. Tarrie tried to understand what had just happened knowing there was more to it than what showed on the surface.

It was hard for Havendar to resist protesting what Noblem had done, but it was the ranger's code, and Havendar was bound. "It's best if you rest," Havendar told Tarrie. When Tarrie tried to protest, Havendar simply replied, "This isn't the time."

Out in the arena, Havendar could hear the crowd cheer with each round. As the fights ended, the guards would come and take someone from Havendar's cell or one of the adjacent cells. Usually, during the fight, the guards would return one of the fighters and place them back in the cell. None of the fighters who returned were wounded. Havendar figured the ones who returned were either the fighters who had won or those who had lost without being hurt.

As the day wore on, Noblem didn't return. Havendar worried that the other ranger had been wounded in his fight. He asked the other fighters as they returned to the cell if they had heard anything about Noblem. No one knew anything. When the guards brought the next batch of fighters back, they told Havendar to get prepared; he was going to take the place of someone who had been wounded in the free-for-all. When Tarrie got up to prepare for the arena fight, the guard said to her, "Not you, just him."

Havendar stood up and started to follow the guard from the room. The guard turned toward him and said, "Not yet, they will come for you."

Havendar sat down, and Tarrie came over to him, "What does this mean?" she asked.

Havendar didn't want to scare her, so he smiled. "It means I will have one more fight tonight so save me some food," he said laughing.

Tarrie liked it when Havendar laughed. It was reassuring to her, and the feeling that "all was well" engulfed her when he smiled. She wanted to show Havendar her support for him, but she couldn't come up with the right words or action. All eyes in the room were on them.

"Well, if you don't come back because you got yourself wounded, you will never live it down," Tarrie finally said, then laughed too.

Looking into Tarrie's eyes, he answered, "Then perhaps I will never live it down."

This didn't reassure Tarrie. In fact, it left her feeling like she had missed something. She smiled and turned to walk back toward her bed.

A few minutes later, the coach and two other men came and got Havendar. Each of the guards grabbed one of Havendar's arms and took him from the room. Their coach looked at Tarrie, and when she returned the gaze, he turned and looked out the door. Something was wrong, and Tarrie could feel it. Around the room, none of the men would look at Tarrie; everyone knew something, but they weren't telling her.

Finally, one of the men in the cell asked her, "Didn't you hear? He will be fighting in the free-for-all."

Havendar would be fighting in the free-for-all? No, she hadn't heard. Oh my goodness, she thought. Tarrie rethought her conversation with Havendar before he left; she wished she could take back her comments.

Outside in the arena, Tarrie could hear that another fight had finished. The crowd was still cheering. In the background, she could hear the announcer saying, "The final event of the night is a thirty-man free-for-all."

The crowd erupted. Tarrie listened to the cheering and the rumble of the people watching in the arena as they stomped their feet. Slowly, the noise began to subside. Tarrie could hear the gamblers in the arena bartering for their bets. It wasn't long ago that she had sat in the stadium and participated in the excitement of the fights, haggling with the gamblers and placing bets on those she felt would win.

It was a strange turn of fate – from Ambassador to slave. She knew a ransom was offered for her release, but she also learned that her captors didn't intend to release her. She had been blindfolded and taken to the slave markets and sold several times before she was bought on the same day Havendar had come into her life. From their first meeting, Tarrie felt that Havendar would be a part of her escape. Clairvoyance was strong in her family – she had learned to trust those premonitions.

For weeks before her enslavement, Tarrie had the feeling she was in danger, but she pushed those thoughts away. She was in a strange land with many strange customs, and she allowed the explanation that she was being paranoid to override the whispering that urged her to leave Shakarine and head for home.

Even on the morning of her kidnapping, as she prepared for another meeting with the Shakarine Ambassador about the treaty that was to be signed to cement the allegiance between the Shakarine and the Warteen, Tarrie had a strong feeling she should leave the castle out the back way and fly her hawk home.

Tarrie's memories of the day she was captured were replaced with the cheering of the crowd. The fight was about to begin. The roar of the crowd echoed through the cell and even plugging her ears didn't quiet the noise.

At the sound of the gong, the crowd erupted. Havendar was glad he was given his sword along with his other weapons this time. Defending himself with only two throwing knives and a fighting knife would have made this arena fight nearly impossible. Keeping his back to the arena walls, Havendar made sure no one could get around him to attack from behind.

It didn't take long for Havendar to realize that many of the men had formed alliances and were fighting as a unit. Unfortunately, he could see these groups of men were having great success. Across the arena, he watched as one of the larger men was attacked by one of the groups. So far, Havendar felt lucky that his opponents were all single individuals. It appeared to Havendar that once a wounded fighter fell to the ground, they were not attacked again. Once he witnessed one of the wounded who had fallen to the ground attempt to get back up, but he was shot by several of the archers who stood around the arena.

He also noticed that men who appeared to fall to the ground without real wounds were shot as well. Once a fighter was wounded, he would lay on the ground; there was no help for him. Havendar figured if someone were wounded but survived until the fight was over, they would receive medical assistance. Havendar wounded the first few men that he fought severely enough to cause them to be unable to continue, but he was careful not to wound them enough that they would die while the competition continued.

Twenty minutes later, the number of men in the arena was beginning to dwindle. From what Havendar could see, there were thirteen men left fighting: two four-man teams, one three-man team, another individual fighter, and himself. About fifty feet to his left, Havendar could see the other individual fighter. Havendar began to circle toward him as the three men Havendar was facing positioned Havendar between them. They were shouting orders to each other, as they began circling him.

The expression of the men standing before him and the footsteps of the man behind him indicated to Havendar that the man behind him was charging. Havendar kept his focus on the men in front who were circling him. All along, Havendar was waiting and listening for the man behind him to attack. Just as the man behind him got within striking distance, Havendar rolled to the side and swung his sword catching the charging man on the side and across his back.

Havendar spun to face the men in front of him who had decided to charge. As the first man passed him, Havendar dodged the swing of his sword, but he could feel the attacker's sword cut through his shirt sleeve. He wasn't sure if the sword had cut him, but if it had, it was a minor wound. Havendar blocked the second man's sword swing using the small arm shield he was holding.

Havendar caught the second fighter with a roundhouse swing that landed across the back of his legs, the first man had regained his footing and was charging Havendar again. To his right, the individual fighter was finishing the last of the team he had been fighting. Two more sword swings and Havendar had the last member of the team attacking him on the ground with a wound that crippled his sword arm.

Havendar walked toward the other solo fighter as the remaining group of four men were circling him. He planned to position himself to defend his back. Initially, the solo fighter turned to defend himself against Havendar, but once he realized Havendar wasn't fighting with him, he returned his attention on the other fighters.

The heat of the day was beginning to have its effect on Havendar, and while the helmet he was wearing provided protection, each time Havendar swung his sword, the helmet twisted enough on his head to block his view. As Havendar drove the man he was fighting back, his opponent stumbled over one of the bodies lying in the arena. This gave Havendar enough time to remove the helmet and toss it to the ground.

His black hair was soaked with sweat, which was good because it prevented his hair from blowing in his face. It didn't take long for Havendar to finish the man who had stumbled. The next opponent attempted to regain his balance after his sword swing glanced off Havendar's back; he exposed his left side just long enough for Havendar to pull one of his throwing knives and plant it into his side.

Initially, the man didn't fall to the ground, but as Havendar charged him swinging his sword over his head, Havendar swung the flat of his sword against his shield; the man dropped to one knee and then fell on his side. Havendar had time, so he pulled his knife from the man's side and turned back to face the arena. There were five men left.

"Havendar, come here," the other solo fighter called out. "Defend my back, as I defend yours."

Havendar recognized the voice. It was Noblem. Havendar ran toward Noblem with his sword held high. It appeared to everyone that Havendar was about to strike Noblem from behind, but as he got right up onto Noblem, he took a side step around his ranger friend and attacked the man Noblem was fighting. Havendar's swing cut into the shoulder of the fighter, and he dropped to the ground.

Noblem turned toward the other fighter, it only took a few moments for him to obtain the advantage and take his opponent to the ground, as well. It only took a few minutes before Havendar and Noblem were the only two in the arena still standing.

Havendar turned toward Noblem; his sword was down. From of the corner of Havendar's eye, he noticed Noblem was charging, swinging his sword. Havendar moved to avoid the attack, and Noblem's sword brushed his arm, just missing him and striking into the ground.

"You must fight me," Noblem said. "It's your only chance."

Havendar was better prepared for Noblem's next swing. He blocked it with his sword. At first, Havendar was defending himself for his life, then Havendar realized Noblem's initial swing was not meant to hit him, it was meant to miss. Noblem was swinging for his sword. It was like the days of training – they were fighting to strike each other's sword. Noblem didn't want to kill or hurt Havendar – he wanted to give the crowd a show.

Once Havendar understood what Noblem wanted to do, it was much easier for both men to put on a display of a fierce sword fight. They fought back and forth with each man taking turns being on the attack and seeming to have a small advantage, only to allow the other to regain the control.

The crowd was erupting in excitement. Havendar didn't know how much longer he could keep up this fighting, though. His muscles were beginning to become fatigued. He had begun to lunge with his sword swings to block Noblem's advances, but knew he couldn't keep up this pace.

The next time Noblem swung his sword, he knocked Havendar's sword from his hands. The sword landed twenty feet away from Havendar, "Drop to your knees!" Noblem shouted to Havendar.

Havendar dropped to his knees, and Noblem lifted his sword to Havendar's neck. Holding it here for a few seconds, he dropped the tip of the sword and turned toward the Mayor's box. The crowd was in a cheering frenzy. "Sucrah... Sucrah... Sucrah... Sucrah... Sucrah... Sucrah... Sucrah... Sucrah... Sucrah..." Itwas a few minutes before the Mayor stood and turned to face the crowd. Finally, he crossed his arms and started down the stairs leading from his box seat to the floor of the arena.

The guards who protected the entrances to the arena surrounded the Mayor as he approached Noblem. As the guards approached the ranger, Noblem dropped his sword to the ground. The guards retrieved the sword and told him to get on one knee. As Noblem bent down and knelt on his knee, the Mayor lifted the necklace from around his neck and placed it over Noblem's head. As he did so, he reached down and grabbed Noblem's hand helping him to stand by his side, raising the hand he held high over their heads.

They turned in a circle so they faced each section of the crowd in the arena. After they had faced the entire arena, the Mayor reached down and grabbed Havendar's hand. Raising him to his feet, the Mayor lifted his other hand, which was holding Havendar's, above his head as well. Once again, they turned to face each section of the arena. As they did so, the crowd erupted again. "Sucrah... Sucrah... Sucrah... Sucrah... Sucrah..."

The shouting continued for many minutes. Around them, the arena guards were beginning to remove the fallen fighters from the arena. It took several minutes before the chanting began to fade. As it did, the Mayor headed back toward the stairs that lead to his box. The guards held Havendar and Noblem for several minutes before they allowed them to retrieve their weapons. Havendar started to say something, but Noblem silenced him with a hand signal. When they arrived at the arena entrance, both men were relieved of their weapons and escorted down the hall.

# Chapter 41

The next day went as expected; midway through the second day, the scouts returned to notify Lord Kimberlee that Lord Capnar was a half-day's ride away. After discussing the situation with Lord Baintor and the others in his War Council, Lord Kimberlee decided to send the scouts back to Lord Capnar with directions to have them stop at the next stream and set up camp.

Lord Kimberlee and the column would travel until they met up with Lord Capnar's army. The travel across the central prairie was harder than Lord Kimberlee had expected. The prairie was not easy for wagons to travel across it without a road. Every day, wagons needed to be repaired as wheels or axles broke. Finding enough water was becoming an additional issue, and once they found the water, forcing the animals downstream to drink had its challenges.

They were beginning to lose many livestock to predators, so archers on horseback were placed around the livestock to protect the flocks from wolves and other predators that were following the column. Initially, they attacked the wounded or injured animals, but recently, the predators had begun attacking the young or newborn cattle as well.

In the first week, the chickens received the greatest losses. The practice of allowing the chickens free range during the evening to feed on the grass had been stopped because the chickens were difficult to collect and place in their pens, and the predators were hunting and taking large numbers of them at night. The column had lost about fifty percent of the chickens. Until the chicken flocks were rebuilt, there would be a shortage of eggs.

The War Council meeting had become more of a complaining meeting. The biggest concern was the lack of bathing facilities. The body odor, coupled with dirty laundry and lice breakouts, had become a major problem facing Lord Kimberlee and the column. Lord Kimberlee decided that with the army's protection, the column would be able to take a half-day to replenish the water barrels, clean clothing, and bathe.

It took less time than Lord Kimberlee expected before the people of Yemenor reached the encamped army which had camped along a small stream crossing the prairie. The animal herds were moved downstream, and guards were placed to keep them together. Upstream, wagons were parked alongside the stream and ropes were strung between the wagons. Large sheets of canvas were hung over the ropes that stretched between the wagons.

The canvas provided privacy for the people to bathe. Above the camp, men were working to fill water barrels. Below the bathing facilities, clothing was being washed. It took the rest of the night and the first half of the next day for those in the camp who wanted to bathe to finish. The wet clothing was hung from the sides of the wagons to dry. For the most part, all but the teenage boys regularly bathed.

After a late breakfast, the camp broke. The army was assigned to protect the rear flank of the column. On each side, several army units guarded the flanks. The protection provided by the army allowed Lord Kimberlee to send out more scouts and send them further away from the column than they had been before. An unexpected benefit for having the army following them, the soldiers in the army helped herd the livestock. This provided a great deal of relief to the men assigned to protect and heard the livestock.

When Justin finally reached the top of the plateau, Yron was nowhere in sight. Justin didn't want to admit he had lost contact with his charge, so he was determined to track him down before anyone realized the maiggii was unprotected. The way the undergrowth was cut, Justin could see that Yron had followed the cliff edge. Once he cleared the undergrowth, he could found one set of horse tracks cutting across the grass lands on top of the plateau heading directly toward Yron's camp.

Justin was following the tracks made by Brelyah's horse when his greatest fear came true; Lord Og spotted and stopped him.

"Where did you come from, and why are you here?" Lord Og demanded.

Before Justin could answer, Lord Og was interrupted by one of the men assigned to care for the livestock. The remaining livestock needed to be lifted to the top of the plateau. The grass in the entrance area where the herds were being kept had been chewed to the roots, and the animals were hungry. "Tell the lift operators to lower food for the animals and enough water to keep them alive," Lord Og ordered

"Lift the wagons and supplies that we have staged," Lord Og continued. "We can't bring the livestock to the top of the cliff until the staged equipment and supplies have been moved out of the way. By then, I will be able to receive direction from King Timon," Lord Og continued.

As his officer left with his orders, Lord Og again turned toward the King's guard. "Why are you here?" he questioned Justin again.

"I am assigned to guard the young maiggii. He was lowered to the prairie last night, and I fell asleep, as he was using magic to rebuild the road," Justin tried to explain but realized how ridiculous his story sounded.

"Rebuilding the road?" Lord Og laughed. "That road cannot be rebuilt."

"Look for yourself," Justin replied. "I just followed him up the road. The maiggii cast a spell, and the rock disappeared. I swear to you."

Lord Og didn't know what to do. The King's guards were trustworthy, and Justin was not known to concoct a story. On the other hand, what the guard was saying to him was impossible. "Come with me," Lord Og ordered. "I need to see for myself."

"But I have been assigned by the King to guard the young maiggii," Justin refuted.

"It seems to me that you have failed to do that," Lord Og countered. "Now your orders have changed."

When Justin began to protest, Lord Og grabbed the guard by his arm and guided him to the edge of the cliff. As Lord Og looked over the side of the plateau, he realized the overhang they were standing on wouldn't allow them to see any portion of the road. Guiding Justin toward one of the lifts, he ordered the lift operator to lower them to the prairie floor.

Lord Og and Justin boarded the lift, and as the platform was lowered over the edge, Lord Og could see that the portions of the road that had collapsed were cut deeper into the cliff face, and the large piles of rock that had been blocking the roadway had been removed. From what he could see, Justin was right; the road had been rebuilt.

"Justin?" Lord Og asked, "When did he do this, and why didn't anyone see him?"

"The magic user worked on it all through the night. It was only this morning that he finished, and then he rode his horse to the top of the plateau," Justin replied.

Lord Og couldn't believe his eyes... the road was intact! As the lift operator lifted the wagon from the staging area, Lord Og ordered the next wagon in line to continue up the road.

The young officer started to object, but he could tell from Lord Og's demeanor that he had no choice. The loading officer ordered the wagon driver up the road. As the wagon began the trek upward, all three men walked down the road to the prairie floor and watched the wagon as it traveled up the road to the top of the cliff. Just before the wagon crested the plateau, it stopped.

"What is wrong?" Lord Og wondered aloud.

The three men stood there looking at the top of the road wondering the same thing.

"The wagon cannot go any farther," Justin said, as he realized the outgrowth of trees and underbrush was preventing the wagon from going any further. "There is no road through the forest."

Turning toward Justin, Lord Og ordered, "I need you on that lift," as he led Justin toward the lift they had just ridden down.

As the two men rode the lift back to the top of the plateau, Justin described to Lord Og what Yron had done through the night. He described how the wizard had cast the spell on his hand, and that, as he waved it near the rock, the rock disappeared. Justin explained how the same spell Yron had used to carve the face of the mountain away was used to clear the large piles of rock that had fallen on the roadway.

When they reached the top, Justin was preparing to follow Lord Og toward the road entrance onto the plateau until Lord Og reminded him of his responsibility to protect the young maiggii. Realizing Lord Og was right, Justin started to run toward the maiggii's camp. He needed to find Yron.

"You men, follow me. Get axes, shovels, and several teams of horses," Lord Og ordered.

Turning to the lift operator, Lord Og continued, "Find some men to replace these men I am taking with me."

As the men from the lift left to follow Lord Og, they collected the equipment they were ordered to retrieve. It wasn't long before Lord Og and his men were chopping down and removing trees that were blocking the road entrance to the plateau. Ropes were attached high in the trees, and all around the trunk of the trees, the men were digging up and chopping off the roots. Once the roots were cut away, the horses pulled the trees over one by one and drug them away.

Lord Og decided not to attend the morning meeting and sent a messenger to inform the King. By noon, King Timon had finished the meeting and went looking for Lord Og. He found him removing trees at the entrance of the road. King Timon's anger was evident as he approached Lord Og. "Og... can you explain to me why you didn't bother to attend the morning meeting?" King Timon asked.

"I apologize, Your Majesty, but the maiggii wizard repaired the road last night, and I wanted to get the trees cleared so we could start bringing the wagons and supplies up the road and not have to lift them to the top of the plateau," Lord Og explained.

The King was confused by what Lord Og had said and wasn't able to comprehend how the road had been repaired, let alone repaired in one night. Why... What... The maiggii??? He... the King's mind was reeling with questions.

"Come with me, Sire, I will show you what I mean," Lord Og suggested.

The King followed Lord Og, as he guided him through the trees to where the first wagon that had traveled the road was stopped waiting for the trees to be removed. Lord Og and the King passed by the wagon, and the two men walked down the road. King Timon could see that parts of the cliff appeared to be melted away, creating a new road deeper into the cliff where the old road had collapsed.

"It was some type of magic the boy used," Lord Og tried to explain.

The King nodded his head. He was amazed the young maiggii could have accomplished so much overnight. The boy was so young. Perhaps he should talk with the maiggii. Perhaps there were other things the maiggii could do to help, but the King didn't know what to say or what to ask for.

King Timon headed back to his tent, his mind ablaze with questions. What concerned him most was that this maiggii wizard was only a teenager, yet he controlled such power. What if he were to use his power to carve rock path that could be used against the Yemenites instead of to help them? King Timon wondered.

The maiggii wizard wasn't one of his subjects, and even though he was training under Grand Master Raajanaar, King Timon knew Yron had no loyalty to him or any other king. He would be loyal to his Guild.

Yron wasn't like the other maiggiis he had met over the years. He had seen many maiggiis traveling the countryside performing magic tricks for coins. Some were better than others, but all of them were nothing but a simple sideshow. Only after years of developing their skills, did those maiggiis succeed in passing their exams and then allowed to take the title of Wizard.

He had once been to one of the ceremonies where a young maiggii from his kingdom had been ordained a wizard. During the ceremony, the young man had to complete his final test before he could be ordained. King Timon could still remember the young maiggii entering the Channel of Life, a crevasse in the Latener Mountain range that led from the surface of the earth to the earth's core. This was where the realm of the fire elementals existed.

To be ordained a wizard, the young maiggii was required to return with a captured fire elemental. Many maiggii had died attempting to capture too large of elemental. The more mature the elemental, the greater respect the wizard would receive from the Guild. Of course, the Guild's respect was critical.

The more respect, the more access the wizard was given to study in the great libraries and symposiums where the highest magical spells were talked about. Respect gave them higher preference in selecting potential maiggii, greater ranking in seating at the Mascar, and even acquired access to rare earth metals to work with in developing magical spells and items.

King Timon remembered waiting for several hours before the young maiggii returned. During the time they waited, the room was silent. No one could talk. It was a time for inner reflection and meditation. From what the King had learned later, if the young maiggii didn't return, the meeting would immediately become a funeral ceremony, where the loss of the maiggii would become another example used to teach young maiggiis that there were great responsibilities accompanying their profession; a reminder that they shouldn't try to accomplish something that was bigger than their abilities.

The last test was more than just a test of magical ability; it was a test of the maiggii knowing the extent of those abilities. It was the desire of every maiggii to capture the largest elemental they could so they would be a great wizard; however, attempting to capture an elemental that was too large would most certainly lead to the young maiggii's death. The test was a balance between ability and glory, and each maiggii must weigh this decision, as they attempted to capture their elemental.

Brelyah was sleeping next to the coals of a dead fire when Yron arrived at their camp. The clicking of her horse's hoofs on the rock stairway that led into the camp area woke Brelyah from her sleep. She looked up and saw Yron leading the two horses into their camp. Tethering Brelyah's horse to a nearby tree, he removed the stirrups from Tristina and allowed her to roam freely. He then hung Tristina's feed and water on another tree that was across the clearing from the other horse.

Brelyah heard Yron grab a bite to eat and then lay down. The warmth of the sun was just calming enough for Brelyah's tired body to fall back to sleep. The sun was almost overhead when she woke up again. After looking inside the tent, Brelyah could see through the open door flap that Yron was still asleep. Above the campsite on the rim of the depression that they were camping in, Brelyah could see Justin was standing at the top of the rock stairway.

The worried look on Justin's face vanished when he opened the flap on the tent and saw Yron was sleeping inside. Behind the tent next to where Brelyah's horse was tethered, Justin woke the other guard who was asleep in a small tent that had been set up for the guards. "It's your turn to guard the maiggii," Justin said.

Even before he saw the other guard rise from his tent, Justin had started preparing to go to sleep. As the other guard got up, he saw that Brelyah was watching him. "Was it a late night for you, missy?" the guard asked.

Brelyah bristled at the guard calling her missy – after all, he had no idea who he was talking to. She feared for a moment that the guard could have seen how offended she was, but she had been trained well, and as quickly as the anger appeared within, it was banished before her features could indicate a scowl. Instead, she acknowledged the guard, saying, "Indeed it was, and I'd better get back to my task."

Reaching for the books she had found, Brelyah started to read more about the history of the people on the plateau. The information was interesting, and she hoped it would somehow help Yron and the people of Carbynarah. Soon enough, she discovered something fascinating. King Timon's ancestors were the rightful heirs to the king's scepter handed down from the Eyantyk.

From what Brelyah was taught, it had been over twenty-five hundred years since the scepter had been stolen from King Dernairn the Twenty-Third. Since that day, no king had taken upon himself the title of Dernairn. No one knew what powers the scepter gave to its bearer. Only stories and rumors existed and even those were fading from the minds of those whose job it was to carry on the history of this people through their story-telling. Brelyah knew the scepter was made from the white wood of the extinct Mynternal tree.

The story told, was the last Mynternal tree had been poisoned too long ago for the storytellers to even give it a date. One of the stories that she had heard claimed that one of the members of Bastellee, the ancient guardians of magic, was responsible. Another indicated that the tree placed itself into hibernation after it had produced a seed, which was taken to a secret location where it was to be planted. Many believed that the story of the efforts to save the Mynternal tree or the Bastellee by sprouting the branches were nothing more than folklore, but Brelyah wasn't so sure.

Yron surprised Brelyah when he woke up. His shadow caused her to look up and see him watching her read. Brelyah immediately closed her eyes. She didn't want Yron to know she could understand different languages, let alone reading an ancient text. Turning to Yron, she smiled, "I finally found a book I can read," she noted.

Yron nodded his head. Brelyah could tell Yron was looking around at the other books she had uncovered inside the cavern. Several of them were lying opened. She had been so engrossed in studying, that when she fell asleep, she had forgotten to cover her tracks. Brelyah could feel the blush washing across her face. There was nothing she could do now, so she started to read her book again. Brelyah was glad she kept her long hair because it was now her only protection against the blush.

Yron stood watching Brelyah for several seconds. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see his shadow. He wasn't moving. Everything inside Brelyah screamed to turn and engage Yron in conversation to distract him from the evidence, but her training had taught her otherwise. The stress of the situation was so great that she was unable to focus on reading, but every few minutes, she had the presence of mind to turn another page.

After what seemed like hours, Yron turned and walked toward Tristina. Brelyah watched him walk away, she hoped he would think the book was one written in her native language, and not give what she was doing another thought.

What Yron suspected all along was proving to be true. There was more to Brelyah than she was letting on. Yron recognized the ancient text in the book Brelyah was reading. It had come from the second age. According to Raaj, fewer than five people knew the language anymore. After four years of studying with Raaj, Yron was still not able to fully comprehend second-age writings. Raaj had told him no interpretation spells had ever been developed that would allow a wizard to read a document from any of the first four ages.

Yron needed time to think, there was something he wasn't seeing. He needed time to put all the pieces together, but that could take several days of meditation after he cast a Reflect spell. The Reflect spell would allow him to remember every conversation, every word, and every event that he had seen, heard, or watched regarding Brelyah. Only through that kind of focus would he be able to identify and understand how the pieces fit together.

Even the name Brelyah was a quandary. Brelyah is the name of the mythical goddess who had left the residence of the Gods to introduce magic to the planet. In doing so, she was forced to take on mortality. While she was no longer immortal, it didn't mean she hadn't outlived three generations of kings who had married her. After the death of the third king, she not seen again. Some say she still lives today; others say she became one of the ancient Oracles.

When Yron asked Raaj about the rumors concerning Brelyah, Raaj smiled and told him that if he was going to spend all his time repeating rumors from ancient days, then he would never have any time to focus on his studies as a maiggii. Yron regularly asked Raaj about some of the stories of ancient times and ancient magic that he had heard at the Mascar, but Raaj wasn't into the history of humankind.

Instead, he focused his attention on the history of magic and the understanding of the lost forms of magic. Raaj had promised Yron that the next time they traveled to the great libraries, he would allow Yron to research, one time, any one topic he had on his mind – but only after Yron promised Raaj he wouldn't waste his time studying any other nonsense until after he had passed his final wizard exams.

Yron was exhausted from the activities of the night before. Today, he planned to spend time in the cavern, to understand the knowledge contained in the library. Because he was so exhausted from the night's activities ,he couldn't focus his attention on anything of substance. As he entered the cavern, the first thing he noticed was the map that hung on the wall. Walking over to the map, he felt impressed to study it.

Carefully, Yron removed the old map from the wall. Even though he knew the map was over a thousand years old, it was not as fragile as its age would indicate it should be. It took time for Yron to realize the map was hung upside down. The letters on the map were not in a script Yron recognized, nor a language that he could magically translate.

At the northern end of the plateau, the map showed an entrance and a cavern that hosted a library. However, on the other end of plateau was a road that led to the top of the plateau which was drawn with dotted lines.

Clearly, the plateau was enormous. If it was drawn to scale, it had to be over one hundred miles wide and perhaps twice that long. The part of the plateau Yron had seen when he stood on the knoll that housed the King's tent was nothing compared to its actual size.

When Yron took the map from the wall and placed it on the table in the cavern, it became clear where Yron was in relation to the map. If Yron was reading the map correctly, the King's tent was set up less than a mile from the edge of the plateau. While the city on the plateau extended this far, it was at the center of the city where the King's castle had been erected alongside a lake. Next to the castle, there appeared to be an entrance to a series of tunnels that crisscrossed across the prairie.

Yron could see that one of the tunnels appeared to end inside the library. He tried to identify another entrance within the library but couldn't find anything that could even be considered another entrance, other than one spot in the tunnel where there appeared to be a slight breeze. This presumably was the reason the cavern lacked the musty smell Yron had initially expected.

When Yron left the library with the map in hand, it was starting to get dark. Arriving at camp, he saw a welcome sight. Brelyah had made dinner and somehow managed to find a table so they could have a proper meal.

"Where did the table come from?" Yron asked, initially meaning to complement Brelyah's cooking but was unable to find the right words.

"The guards brought it after I asked for it," Brelyah responded.

Yron spotted the four chairs that were around the table. Both guards were sitting, eating the food Brelyah had made. Yron smiled; Brelyah's beauty had won over the hearts of these two lonely guards. At first, there was a touch of jealousy that raced through Yron, but that was replaced with amusement. There was no way either of these men could win her heart. Even though Brelyah appeared – or tried to appear – to be a common warrior, Yron knew better.

Yron was unable to pinpoint what she was, but the lessons he had learned from Raaj about waiting, not commenting, pretending not to notice, observing carefully, watching every movement, listening to every word, and noting every mannerism, would eventually pay off. She would ultimately let down her guard, and if Yron couldn't figure her out, then without a doubt Raaj would be able to understand what and who she was.

Yron approached the table to get something to eat when Justin announced that the King had requested Yron's presence as soon as he was finished doing whatever he had been doing inside the cavern. Nodding – he had expected as much – Yron picked up the bowl of soup at the end of the table, and tipping it to his lips, drank the warm broth in one long gulp. Using his fingers, Yron scooped out the pieces of meat and potatoes that were in bottom of the bowl. "Thank you," Yron said to Brelyah, as he smiled, turned, and headed toward Tristina.

Yron slipped the stirrups over his Payleen's front shoulders and prepared to lead her up the rock stairs. When Brelyah understood what Yron was doing, she called to him and asked if she could go with him. Yron was prepared to say "No" but decided that the more time he spent with Brelyah, the quicker he would be able to figure her out.

When she saw Yron had agreed, Brelyah immediately saddled her horse and started to follow Yron up the stairs. It wasn't long before Justin and the other guard had pushed away from the table and scrambled to the top of the stairs to untie their horses to escort Yron and Brelyah to King Timon's tent.

Wagons brought dirt to fill in the holes created by the trees that had been removed. By nightfall, most of the trees had been removed, and the road on the top of the plateau was being built to allow access to the road that came from the prairie floor. Lord Og lit torches so the men could see to dig around the trees and cut the roots. He wanted the road completed before morning. The horses that pulled the first wagon you the road were finally able to pull the wagon onto a section of the newly created road. Lord Og could tell they were tired from being harnessed to the wagon for most of the day.

When Lord Og returned to the lifts, he could see they had brought almost all the supplies to the top of the plateau. He explained to the lift operators that in the morning, instead of lowering the lifts empty, horses that would be used to pull the wagons up the road were to be lowered to the prairie floor. Word that the road had been repaired spread quickly throughout the camp.

It didn't take long for the stories of how a wizard had come and repaired the road in the middle of the night began to take on heroic proportions. Some of the stories talked about how the wizard had carved the stone face away with his bare hands; other stories described how he magically created thousands of dwarfs to dig the stone away. No matter the story, each ended the same way; an unseen wizard was the camp hero.

Lord Og was surprised at how even King Timon had taken to the stories told about the maiggii. If Lord Og hadn't heard from Justin exactly how the maiggii had melted the rock away, he might have just as easily bought into the excitement that surrounded this unseen wizard.

Lord Og found the whole thing amusing. If the boy was such a great maiggii or wizard, then why hadn't he finished the job and cleared the trees from the entrance of the road to the prairie? Lord Og chuckled to himself, If the boy had removed the trees and built the new road so I didn't have to, then even I would be singing the wizard's praise as wells.

By early morning, Lord Og would stop using the lifts to bring things from the prairie floor. Instead, they would use them to lower things from the plateau to the prairie floor, since the road wasn't wide enough for two wagons to pass each other especially if they were heading in different directions.

By Og's calculations, everything from the prairie floor would be brought to the top of the plateau by nightfall. Completing the task couldn't come a minute too soon. Lord Og knew his men needed a rest. They had been working on lifting things to the top of the plateau for over a week now.

The new road would be a real blessing when the people from Yemenor arrived. It would allow them to access the upper camp on top of the plateau starting on the day they arrived. Also, if they were willing to take the risk of lighting the roadway during the night, the entire column of people fleeing from Yemenor would have the protection of the plateau within two days instead of the four days he figured it would take without the light.

The thing that troubled Lord Og now was that he hadn't received word from the scouts who had been sent to travel along the edge of the plateau and bring back news about any conditions which would be of concern for the protection of their new home. Tomorrow, once the road through the trees was completed, Lord Og would need to take a few men and investigate the rim of the plateau himself, but tonight, he was exhausted, and his shoulders ached from swinging an axe all day.

# Chapter 42

Outside the King's tent, several horses were tied to the rail. Inside the tent, Yron could hear raised voices and an argument brewing about leadership on the plateau. Yron turned toward Justin, "Perhaps this is not a good time to meet with the King," he said.

Just as Yron finished his sentence, a loud crash erupted from inside the tent, as one of the King's men was thrown through the door. Orders were being issued, and someone was demanding the King be seized. Justin slid off his horse and charged through the tent door. He had no sooner entered the tent than several sword fights broke out.

From the shadows cast against the sides of the tent, Yron could see there was a massive confrontation inside. Yron slid off his Payleen and entered the tent. Two men were attacking the King, and from what Yron could tell, those that were supporting the King were being pressed back as well. Yron was confused and didn't know what to do. Raising his hand to a fist, he shouted, "Constrict."

Just as the spell had done in Lord Kimberlee's camp, all the men in the room were grabbing at their throats to breathe. His spell affected both friend and foe alike, but until he could sort out who was who, it was safest to stop all the fighting.

In the dimly lit room, the casting of the spell had caused a flash of light to leave Yron's hand and strike everyone in the tent. Even though their ability to breath was affected, some of the men continued to fight. Two men from the other side of the room drew their bows and fired arrows at Yron, hitting him in the chest. From behind him, Yron could hear Brelyah scream in alarm. The arrows caused him to lose focus on the spell for a brief second but not long enough for the spell to be broken.

While the force of the arrow knocked Yron off balance, he could see the arrows laying on the ground at his feet when he looked down. All around the room, men were dropping their weapons and reaching for their throats. When the man Justin was fighting dropped his sword, Justin lunged to the King's side. The guard stood there with his sword drawn until he passed out.

Across the room, Yron could see one of the rangers had drawn his knife and was holding it to the throat of the King's daughter. Keeping his fist clenched to maintain the constrict spell, Yron raised his other hand and shouted, "Burn!"

No one in the room was more surprised than Yron when a bolt of light shot from his left hand and struck the ranger's knife. When the light hit the knife, the weapon turned white, and the ranger who was holding it let out a scream, dropping the knife, as he reached for his smoldering hand. As the blade fell against the ranger's pant leg, it caught fire.

Yron had no idea where that spell had come from or how it happened, but he was glad it had saved the life of the King's daughter. Yron remembered Raaj and other wizards talking about times when they were in great danger and cast previously unknown spells that were new to them. So, while the Constrict and Burn spells were ones Yron had never studied or could ever remember hearing about, he wasn't overly alarmed that he had cast the spells.

Moments later, everyone in the tent except Yron had passed out and was lying on the ground. Slowly, he relaxed the grip of his right hand, as all around the room, Yron could hear the men gasping for air. Picking up a bucket of water sitting next to the tent door, Yron poured it over the ranger's burning pant leg. He didn't see the need to magically restrain the man since he was unconscious for now and would be in extreme pain due to his extensive burns upon waking.

Picking up the two arrows that had struck him, Yron could see they looked just like the Warteen assassin's arrows Raaj had found when they were attacked by the Warteen spies near the forest on their way to Yemenor. Yron cast a Bind spell on the two archers who had shot arrows at him. He knew they would remain there until they could be dealt with. Setting the arrows down alongside the King's chair and looking around the room, Yron was at a loss as to what to do next.

Behind him, Brelyah was lying on the ground still clutching her throat, yet breathing. Across the room, Justin was lying next to the King. The King! Yron knew the King needed to be protected. Crossing the room, Yron kneeled next to the King. Placing a hand on his chest, Yron whispered, "Breathe." Immediately the King's breathing relaxed, and he could draw breaths without gasping.

Yron drew his sword. Standing next to the King, he watched the men in the room, one by one, begin to catch their breath and start to get up. King Timon placed his hand on Yron's shoulder, "I believe it will be okay now," he said. "I think you captured their attention."

At the King's words, Yron lowered his sword but refused to sheath it. The fighting that only a moment ago was the central theme of activity inside the tent had ceased. From what Yron could see, no one seemed interested in continuing the fight. Yron watched the King, as he walked over to his throne and sat motioning for Yron to come and stand at his side.

It took several minutes before those inside the regained enough strength to do anything more than lie on the ground. Around the room, each man was either kneeling and still catching his breath or standing bent over. Only Justin had moved from where he had fallen; despite his continued gasping for air, he moved to the King's side. Leaning on his sword, Justin was prepared to defend the King against any attack.

"This plateau lies within the boundaries of my Kingdom," King Timon stated. "If I choose to allow anyone to partake of the protection that this plateau provides, it will be at my choosing. Is that clear?" he asked.

Around the room, those who were not a part of the King's War Council nodded.

"Furthermore, if I decide to invite others onto this plateau or into this War Council, it will be my choice." Once again, the men around the room nodded their heads.

"Now, shall we start this meeting over again?" the King suggested.

All eyes were on the King and his young wizard. This didn't make Yron feel comfortable at all. Leaning over to whisper to the King, Yron requested permission to leave. No sooner did the words leave his mouth than Yron realized the naïveté of the request. The gaze from the King only confirmed what Yron suspected.

"We will take a break and reconvene in thirty minutes," King Timon suggested. Turning to his guards, he ordered the ranger be taken and held. Getting up from the throne, King Timon went directly to his daughter's side. His concern was evident, but with all the people watching, he couldn't do much more than help her to her feet and suggest that she retire to her room and rest. At that moment, he was more a king than a father.

Sartura struggled with her father's order but knew that she couldn't resist. Standing, she turned and focused her pent-up anger at Yron, staring him down with her striking blue eyes. She didn't think it fair that the young maiggii, who couldn't be much older than she, if at all, was able to stay. She had to leave and knew this was not the time for her to voice her objection.

After a quick bow, Sartura walked to the room behind the throne. Yron thought he could detect a muffled smile on her face, as she glanced at her father. Indeed, Yron knew something had happened because he could see the King's nostrils flaring in anger, as she pulled back the tent flap and left the room.

"Maiggii, we need to talk," the King said, as he turned toward Yron. "Your timing could not have been more perfect. Thank you," he continued gratefully.

Yron had never been taught the correct protocol of addressing or talking with a king. He had always been asked to leave the room when Raaj had a private conference with royalty; Yron was on his own. He nodded at the King's gratitude – at least that seemed proper enough. "Come with me," the King said looking directly at Yron.

Yron followed the King from the tent. Both moons were up tonight, and they provided plenty of light for Yron and the King to walk across the grassy clearing that stretched out in front of the tent. They had walked for several minutes before the King finally spoke. "It's obvious by what you did tonight and the rebuilding of the road last night that you have been taught much by your Master." The King paused, only daring to hope. "Has Master Raajanaar taught you the Inset spell?" he questioned.

"We have worked on it together several times," Yron replied.

The King nodded his head at the good news, as they walked for several minutes before the King spoke again, "Do you have the abilities to cast the spell?"

A lump formed in Yron's throat. It was immediately clear what the King was requesting. Even if Yron felt comfortable enough to cast the spell, he knew he didn't have the Inset box, and without that, he wouldn't be able to cast the spell to save the Prince's abilities.

"I am missing some important elements necessary to cast the spell," Yron replied sadly. "Without them, there is nothing I can do."

Yron could hear the quivering in the King's voice, as he requested what exactly Yron would need to attempt the spell. Yron had no desire to finish this conversation. He wished he could somehow disappear, but tonight, this was not his fate. "Master Raajanaar has a box I would need," Yron replied. "Without it, I would need to rebuild the box. To do so, I would need koa from the forest in the south and plithim, along with a fire elemental to forge the necessary item."

Yron could hear the wind leave the King's lungs, as Yron delivered his response. Yron couldn't look at the King; he could tell from the sound of his voice that the King was choking back tears. "Perhaps Master Raajanaar will arrive in time," the King muttered to himself.

"We must head back," the King explained to Yron. "Do not leave the room. Stand off to the side. I need your presence, but I do not want the men in the tent to think I rely on you to maintain my position."

Yron nodded, and the two men walked quietly back toward the tent. "One more thing. When we arrive at the tent, you will find my daughter is hiding behind my throne. Please pull back the flap she walked behind and ask her to accompany you," the King requested, shaking his head at Sartura's determination to be part of his council. "With her standing at your side, people in the tent will think I just assigned you to protect her."

Things had not gone as well as he had hoped. It took through the morning before Lord Og and his men had completely removed all the trees blocking the path that led from the road. As the men finished filling the holes from the removed trees, Lord Og ordered the draft horses to be taken down the road and hitched to the wagons below. He wanted the wagons to be brought up from the prairie as soon as the road was completed.

For the first time, Lord Og had hope that they would be able to bring the people from Yemenor to safety quickly. His men were exhausted from working the lifts, and there was always the concern that one of the ropes would break during a lift. So far, they had been lucky, but Lord Og didn't want to push the ropes any further.

It was just before noon when the first wagon of the day rolled across the plateau. Lord Og watched as a constant stream of wagons started to come from the prairie floor. In between the wagons, people were using the road to access the plateau. While it would be wonderful, if there were a way, for the road to be widened so the wagons could pass one another on the road, Lord Og knew a request like that would need to come from the King, and unless the maiggii wizard did his magic, it would take his men months with picks. Besides, Lord Og figured while the work was being done, the road would be out of use, so he filed the request away for another day.

In the two hours that the road had been in use, they were able to get almost thirty wagons to the top. By late afternoon, all the wagons that had been in the queue on the prairie floor were on the top of the plateau. Looking down on the prairie floor, Lord Og realized there were still crates of supplies and wagonloads of military armament still stacked in the middle of the entrance.

The lift schedule that had been prepared only a few days prior was now useless. In using the road for one day, they were almost a week ahead of schedule. Once the wagons were unloaded, Lord Og ordered them back to the prairie floor to be loaded with items still down below. While they were waiting for the wagons to be unloaded, Lord Og ordered all but two of the lifts to be dismantled and moved from the cliff face.

The men that days before were operating the lifts were now dismantling them and setting them to the side. Those not working on lift removal were sent to the prairie floor to drive the livestock up the road that led to the top of the plateau.

Lord Og was extremely pleased with the day's effort. By dusk, wagons that had traveled up the road were emptied and had been taken to the prairie floor, ready to drive up the road in the morning. The livestock had been driven up the road to the pens that had been prepared. All the dismantled lifts were stored against the tree line. From what Lord Og could tell, everything that needed to be brought to the top of the plateau would be loaded and transported up the face of the cliff by noon tomorrow.

The two big lifts left in place were used to lower empty wagons and other things that needed to be sent to the prairie floor below. This allowed the traffic on the road to continue without being halted so things could be taken down to the prairie floor. At their next break, Lord Og would have his men check all the rigging on the large lifts and make sure everything was safe.

If King Timon wanted, Lord Myningar's entire army, their equipment, and supplies could be brought to the top of the plateau by nightfall the next day. But for now, the order from King Timon was for the army to defend the entrance to the plateau and provide defense until the people from Yemenor had arrived and were safe on the plateau.

Once the men were awake, Darmuth explained that he was going to ride with the scouts for part of the morning. Just before he left, he ordered the men to continue to ride along the forest edge as planned. He would meet up with them later in the day.

It took Darmuth half an hour to find the scouts, and once he did, he opened the cloth-wrapped sweet bread he had brought for them. He was glad it was still warm, and from their appetites, so were they. The scouts thought the food was brought just for them and only divided it amongst themselves. Darmuth decided there was no need to embarrass the scouts; he could do without a meal this morning.

One of the scouts pointed toward the edge of the woods. "They are heading out now," he said. "We must leave." As Darmuth turned to leave, he could see his men were wearing the bright red and yellow markings of Yemenor. Darmuth knew the brightness of their clothing could be seen at least four miles away especially since they were riding together, and as if the colored clothing wasn't enough, the white coats of most of the horses in the group could be seen from even farther away.

Thanking the scouts for breakfasting with him, Darmuth rode hard toward the column of horsemen from Yemenor. As he approached the men, he ordered them off their horses and told them to duck down lower than the high grass of the plains. He immediately explained the problem with the clothing they were wearing and the coats of their horses.

Darmuth and his men spent the next thirty minutes wiping mud on the horses to cover their white hides. Once the horses were taken care of, the men either coated their colored clothing with mud or they changed into something that blended in with the green and brown of the forest.

By the time they were ready to leave, one of the scouts with whom Darmuth had breakfasted was approaching the column. Darmuth rode up to meet the scout. "We were wondering why we stopped," the scout explained.

"We stopped because even a blind enemy scout could see us coming a mile away," Darmuth explained with an embarrassed chuckle. "Why didn't you tell us how exposed we were?" Darmuth questioned.

"We talked about it, but we reckoned you knew what you were doing. We thought you were trying to lead any army you saw away from the castle," the scout continued.

Darmuth didn't know what to say. True, it was stupid that he hadn't realized just how obvious it would be to the enemy that a column of men on horseback were heading along the forest edge, but he just couldn't understand why the scouts hadn't said so much as a word about it. With nothing more to say, Darmuth dismissed the scout.

"One more thing," Darmuth told the scout, "If you ever see anything we can do to make our escape from Yemenor less obvious, I expect you to tell me."

For the remainder of the meeting, there was not one raised voice. Two of the men present refused to agree with the conditions placed upon those who were seeking sanctuary. They stormed out of the tent, only to be greeted by the King's guards who escorted them to the entrance of the plateau and lowered them by the lifts to the prairie floor. Several of the guards accompanied the men down on the lifts to ensure their departure.

Once on the prairie floor, the guard explained to Lord Myningar that the men were to be taken to the edge of King Timon's lands and set free. They wouldn't be allowed to return. Lord Myningar understood the orders and arranged an escort for the two men before the lift carrying the King's guards had even reached the top of the plateau.

Lord Myningar didn't like sending his men out onto the prairie like this during the middle of the night, but he understood the need for it. Normally, he would have sent just a couple of his men to provide the escort, but as he was issuing the orders, he changed his mind. He ordered the contingency to include twenty men to provide the escort, and once the men rode out of the camp, he ordered fifteen more scouts to follow behind the men. After the escort released the men and returned to camp, the scouts were to intercept and follow the two men until they left the High Plains.

After the meeting ended, King Timon ordered the guards to bring the ranger into the tent, as the King had some questions that needed answering. Yron started to leave but before he could take more than two steps, the King stopped him. "We will want you to stay for this," the King said.

Looking around, Yron found a place that was off to the side and out of the way. Next to one of the tables, they could sit on two chairs. He could tell from the Princess' reaction that she wasn't pleased with the new arrangement. When Yron sat down and turned to see if Sartura had followed him, it was then that he noticed the two archers bound and laying behind a table.

"Your Majesty," Yron called out. The King turned and looked at Yron. "We still have an issue with these two archers who shot arrows at us during the scuffle." Reaching into his pack, Yron produced the two arrows he had picked up. Handing them to the King's guard, Yron continued, "As you can see, Your Majesty, these are assassin arrows from the Warteen region. When you are ready to deal with the archers, I will unbind them, but right now, they are lying over there," Yron pointed.

The guards rushed over to where Yron was indicating and picked up the archers. The guards hauled the men forward dropping them to the ground before the King. "Tie them," the King ordered.

After the two men were tied, the King asked Yron to release them from their magical binds. Once released from the spell, the two men started talking, attempting to explain to the King how their actions against Yron were nothing more than an attempt to protect the King.

The King had them removed and taken to the jail area. The jail location was not really a building – there had been no time to build such a structure – but rather, a chain attached to a rock wall to which the prisoners were shackled.

Four guards holding a chain that was attached to the ranger's arms and legs entered the room. The ranger was walking between them, his jaw tight as he dealt with the pain of the burns inflicted by Yron's spell. On his forearms were the tattoos of the Ranger's Guild. The dagger which he had used to attack the Princess was handed to the King. Yron immediately noted the hilt of the dagger didn't have the ranger tattoos etched on it.

Even before the King had begun his questioning, Yron was up and examining the ranger's arm. Turning to the King, Yron said, "This man was once a ranger, but he has been excommunicated from the Rangers' Guild. If you look at the tattoos, you can see there are tattoos that cover over the original tattoos he received at his ranger initiation. This is what the rangers do when a ranger is removed from their Guild."

The King walked over and looked at the exposed forearms of the ranger. Yron was right; the ranger was no longer a part of any Ranger's Guild. "Explain yourself," the King ordered.

The ranger looked down to the ground and refused to look into the King's eyes. When one of the guards prepared to force the ranger to make eye contact, the King waved him off. "We will wait until Cerdon arrives," the King stated.

Cerdon entered the tent; when he saw the ranger chained and in custody, he began to protest the man's treatment. "What is going on?" he began.

King Timon cut him off, "Your representative to our council pulled a knife and was about to slit my daughter's throat," the King stated. "If it were not for this young maiggii, he would have succeeded in his attack."

Cerdon looked at the ranger in anger. Realizing he had nothing to say, the betrayal choked back the words as he stood looking at the ranger with his lower lip quivering. He feared what this betrayal meant for his people. Would King Timon no longer allow their presence on the plateau? The silence of the room was broken when Cerdon eventually cleared his throat. "I took you in when you were wounded. I fed you and cared for you... then placed you in a position of respect and command and now you do this? I don't understand."

"This representative of yours was kicked out of the Rangers' Guild, and yet you befriended him. Why?" the King asked.

"Rangers' Guild? How do you know that?" Cerdon questioned.

One of the guards turned the ranger's wrist over and exposed the tattoo on his forearms saying, "These are the tattoos of a ranger. Do you see the way the lines have been blurred and redrawn? That is what they do to a ranger who has been kicked out of a Guild. The stripes indicate that he was released for traitorous behavior."

"Justin, trace the tattoos," the King ordered. "We will contact the Rangers' Guild and see why this ranger was excommunicated, and if, he is wanted. We will keep him imprisoned until we learn more about why he is here, and why he attempted to kill my daughter."

Cerdon grabbed the ranger by the hair on the back of his head and lifted his face. Turning it toward him, he said, "We take care of these types our own way. When you have finished with him, return him. We have a special reward for the likes of him."

Seeing his list of friends shorten dramatically, the ranger started to beg King Timon for sanctuary.

"You attempt to kill my daughter then you dare to beg for sanctuary?" the King angrily questioned.

The ranger looked around the room to see if he could find anyone who would support his cause. Eventually, his eyes rested on Yron. "I know you," he said. "I have seen you with the rangers of the Order of Atramas. I was there when you were initiated as a ranger's maiggii. Your Majesty, provide me sanctuary and I will expose all his plots to you. Look at his arms. You will see the tattoos of a ranger's maiggii."

Before the guards could react, Yron lifted his arms in the air, allowing the sleeves of his robes to slide up his arms, exposing his bare forearms with no tattoos. "The man is a liar," Yron replied.

"No, I know it is him. His Master is a Master of the Ranger Guild in our land. It was he who framed me and caused me to be disbanded from the ranger corps. I will never forget his face."

Despite the man's protests, the guards quickly removed the ranger from the room. As the man was taken away, he continued to attempt to convince those around him that Yron was the ranger from his land. King Timon turned to Yron saying, "You are a friend of this Kingdom. We do not believe the ranting of this traitor. There is no reason for you to worry."

"If you will excuse me, I need to find a replacement for the ranger," Cerdon said with embarrassment. "He was to stand watch tonight."

As Cerdon started to leave, King Timon stopped him. "I think I will send one of my scouts to stand watch with your man. I want to see if anyone attempts to pass a message to the ranger tonight. Where will they be standing watch?" the King asked.

Cerdon led the King from the tent, "Do you see the tower that is standing just south of our camp? He was assigned to stand watch from there."

The King nodded, "Lord Og, I need a scout to stand watch with Cerdon's man tonight. Report if you see anyone trying to send a message to the tower," the King ordered. Lord Og started to walk away when the King called to him again, "I want the scout to be well rested. One of your elite." As he put his arm around the Lord's shoulder, King Timon added, "I am sorry to have to ask you for this." Then, continuing in a whisper, "Have Lord Myningar send some scouts out on the prairie to the east. If there are spies messaging the plateau, I want them captured and brought to us by morning."

Lord Og was heard mounting his horse just before he rode toward the entrance of the plateau. Once there, he had one of the lift operators deliver the King's message to Lord Myningar.

King Timon grabbed Cerdon by his left elbow and looking Cerdon directly in the eye said, "No harm done." Cerdon was relieved that King Timon was not holding him, or his people, responsible for the ranger's actions.

The King pulled back the tent flap and found Yron still standing inside the tent. "May the blessing of the Most High be with you always," King Timon gratefully expressed to Yron.

Yron didn't know what to say or how to respond. Smiling, he bowed and whispered, "Thank you." The King turned and sat down on his throne. His daughter was still standing in the room, as was Brelyah. Gathering his courage, Yron retrieved the map he had been studying all day and rolled it out on the map table.

"Your Majesty, may I show you something?" Yron asked.

The King looked around, and with a heavy sigh, he arose from his throne and walked over to the table, "What is this?"

"It is a map of the plateau during the times of the Shadow Wars. As you can see, there is an intricate tunnel system that crisscrosses all through the plateau area," Yron stated.

The King looked at the map tracing his finger over the sections of the map in the northeast corner of the plateau.

"Your Majesty, I would like to explore the tunnel system." Yron explained, "If you look at these tunnels, many of them go to the cliff edge of the plateau. I think there is wisdom in finding out if these tunnels are actually other entrances to the plateau that we may not know about," he concluded.

The King looked around the room, then back to Yron, "What if your Master arrives while you are gone? The Inset needs to be cast."

Yron's heart hit the floor. He had prepared an argument for every possible objection the King could have, except that one. "I understand," Yron uttered. Yron started to roll up the map and said, "Thank you for your consideration." He turned to leave the tent, feeling as though he had missed an opportunity to investigate something important. Behind him, he heard Brelyah excuse herself as well, as the Princess initiated a conversation with her father.

Outside, Tristina was still standing near where Yron had left her. She had taken full advantage of the fresh green grass that had started to grow near the horse's water trough. As he clicked his tongue, Tristina pranced up and placed her nose in Yron's hand.

This was one of those times he wished he had a fresh carrot to feed her, she loved them so much, and it was the season, but the carrots Yron had planted, were miles away in a garden he had long ago forgotten about. To Yron, it seemed like they had left the safety of their little homestead many years ago. Yron's whole world had changed. Back at the villa, magic was a game to play. Raaj would teach him a new spell, and he would spend the next few days trying to perfect its usage.

Out here on the prairie, magic had become his life. It was a tool, a way to protect others, and he wasn't being discouraged from using it in public. Here, magic was no longer fun; the mystery had gone; it just was. Raaj once told him there would come a time when magic would become who he was, a time when he would use it as a tool for life just like the farmer uses his plow.

Yron understood what Raaj meant. about the importance of magic – from what he had learned by reading Grand Master Glemmic's book about his experiences in the Shadow Wars – it started to dawn on him. Yron read how Master Glemmic used the various spells at his command to defend the troops or heal the wounded, even making day-to-day life of the plateau people more palatable.

However, the thing that caused Yron the most concern was that Grand Master Glemmic had used the spells to fight, kill, and then completely disintegrate Lord Malkanard's remains. It was Grand Master Glemmic's magic and position in the Wizards' Guild that enabled him to dispose of all of Lord Malkanard's weapons, magical items, and even his magical knowledge.

The first teaching Yron had received from Raaj was how sacred of a responsibility every wizard had to protect the magic that they learned. True, Lord Malkanard's ability reflected the dark side of magic. He had a vast knowledge of Warrior spells, which he used to bring about hundreds of thousands of deaths, but in Yron's opinion, this knowledge should have been saved.

Yron felt that even if the knowledge, was banished and stored in the hidden vaults on Valkreen, it was the responsibility of every wizard to protect the knowledge of a dying wizard. Yron was confused as to why Grand Master Glemmic had failed to do this. It was something he would ask Raaj about when they had the opportunity to talk next.

As he climbed onto Tristina, Yron could hear Brelyah climbing upon her horse behind him. Above, the moons provided enough light to guide Yron back to his camp. Behind them, Yron could hear two others leaving the tent and climbing upon their horses. Down at his side, Ky was trotting alongside him.

Yron didn't know what he would do without his truest friends. Neither Tristina nor Ky ever demanded anything from him. They were always so happy to see him, and somehow, they always knew just when to draw attention to themselves so that Yron could shower them with his affection. This morning when Yron had fallen asleep, it was Ky who had stood guard making sure he wasn't bothered while he rested.

It was the quiet times like these that gave Yron the ability to escape the world of intrigue and danger and dream of better times in the past. As he got off his Payleen, he placed his hand on Ky's back. Ky provided Yron with a dose of reality in a world that was no longer familiar to him. As he scratched Ky's ears, he could feel his Familiar's appreciation. Ky was his greatest support.
Chapter 43

A voice calling for him to wake up followed by a boot kicking him in the leg was indication enough to Yron that he was needed for something. Rolling over, the light from the torch blinded Yron, making it so that he couldn't see the person who was rousing him from sleep. "Your Majesty, he is awake," was the next thing Yron heard.

Wrapping the blanket that had been covering him around his waist so he wouldn't appear indecent, Yron stood and followed the man with the torch outside the tent. As Yron cleared the tent door, he recognized that King Timon, along with several guards and the King's daughter, was grouped around the fire Yron had lit before going to sleep the previous night. Oh no, Yron thought, they are upset because of the fire.

"Your Majesty, I am sorry about the fire, I didn't think." The words just tumbled out of his mouth. He was confused and a bit disoriented and couldn't for the life of him understand why the King had come to his camp. Yron stammered, "I just don't know..."

Those were the last words Yron said before the King cut him off. "We are not here about your fire. We are not here because you have done anything that causes us concern. In fact, you have done nothing but serve this Kingdom with complete loyalty from the first assignment to transport messages sent initially by Master Raajanaar and then by me. That doesn't include your work on the road to the plateau or the defense you provided in the War Council last night," the King stated.

"I am here to request another favor from you," the King explained. "As you suggested last night, we need to explore the details of the map you showed me. In addition, we need you to understand the tunneling under the plateau." The King continued, "I am requesting that you lead an expedition to rediscover the defenses and fortifications which made this plateau such a great stronghold during the Shadow Wars. I would like you to take my daughter with you to explore the details of the map. You will be responsible for her safety, and I want her to stay by your side at all times. She will be your constant companion."

Yron could tell that, while the King had made it sound like a request, this appeal was nothing more than an order. "If you are able, we want you to leave this morning, but remember, you do have business here when Master Raajanaar arrives."

Brelyah, standing in the background, heard the entire conversation. She worried that if she didn't impose herself, she wouldn't be allowed to explore the fortifications of the plateau with Yron. Brelyah had been sleeping in the smaller tent that had been set on the other side of the fire pit from the one that Yron was using. She knew she needed to slide in behind the King's entourage into the firelight alongside Yron so that she could make her presence known.

The King was assigning members of his royal guard along with others whom he had brought with him to participate in the expedition. "I think these men will be sufficient for your needs," the King suggested. "I assume you can leave immediately."

As the King turned to leave the clearing, Yron made a request, "May I assume it would not disrupt your plan for this expedition if I bring my assistant along with me?"

The King was noticeably surprised at Yron's request and hesitatingly replied, "I hadn't thought... I don't see a reason... I guess if... Well, if that is what you want, of course, by all means."

Before mounting his horse, the King added, "Whatever you need, just let my men know. I will leave you to prepare."

The King's daughter stayed standing just inside the circle of light cast by the fire. Yron could tell she was studying his every movement. He knew he needed to make it back to his tent and close the flap to get dressed, but the Princess' presence made it impossible for him to do so gracefully. Across the fire, Brelyah was beginning to pack. From where she was standing, she could see Yron's dilemma. She smiled. Getting dressed around her had always made Yron uncomfortable.

"Princess, perhaps you could come with me and help me pack up the items we will need to travel," Brelyah suggested. The Princess turned to respond to Brelyah's request. This was all the opportunity Yron needed. Turning, he took the two steps necessary to get into his tent and closed the flap. Slipping his trousers on, Yron had the time to pull shirt over the blue tunic before the time the Princess had turned to look back at the tent.

The rest of the morning was spent preparing for the expedition. Yron packed enough food and water for Tristina. Brelyah constantly wondered how Yron could pack so much stuff into his small pack, but she hadn't had an opportunity to investigate his secret. She knew there would be time enough eventually.

Brelyah initially found it amusing how the Princess followed Yron around like a lost puppy, but eventually, it began to annoy her. As she gathered food for the journey, Brelyah tried to figure out why the Princess bothered her so much. Was it the threat of her beauty, the prowess of her nobility, or the way she totally admired this lowly maiggii? In her anger at Yron for the Princess's admiration, she started thinking of things about Yron she could find fault in. Didn't she know Yron was nothing more than a maiggii who was still years away from facing his initiation?

Brelyah couldn't deny Yron was one of the best-prepared Maiggii she had ever seen, nor could she deny he had a command of spells that was greater than any maiggii she had ever heard of, but the facts remained the same. He was a maiggii, nothing more. Why the King requested he, lead an expedition to rediscover the fortifications on the plateau was befuddling to her. Didn't the King have men who could do this? Did he really have to rely on this mere boy?

Swallowing her pride, Brelyah reevaluated the situation in a new light. If this Princess was going to be traveling with them, Brelyah realized she needed to befriend her. After all, Brelyah had the appearance of being the Princess' same age.

"Your Majesty, my name is Brelyah. How would you prefer to have me address you?" Brelyah requested. "After all, we are going to be the only women on this adventure. It might be a good thing if we were friends."

"I was thinking the same thing," the Princess said with a beautiful smile. "My name is Sartura, and you can call me Sartura. I would like that."

Sartura truly hoped they could be friends. After all, it had been a long time since she had anyone her own age to talk to. Plus, this woman who traveled with the maiggii intrigued her. Who was she? How had she and Yron become traveling companions? Was she a warrior? So many questions filled her mind, but Sartura was trained in the art of gathering information a little at a time so as not to appear unsophisticated or weak. It was one of the "Princess" lessons that appealed to her.

Fortunately, for both parties, the two girls were soon fast friends and left their chores. They were on a nearby rock talking, laughing, and sharing stories while Yron and the other men finished preparing all the necessary items that the maiggii needed. Once everything was packed, Yron asked, "Are you ladies going to gossip all day, or are you going to come with us so that we can get the remaining supplies we need?" Turning toward the Princess, he asked, "Are you completely packed; are you planning on traveling like that?"

Sartura looked down, smiling to herself. Yes, it would be impractical for her to travel through the woods in a dress. "Indeed, I will need to gather some travel gear," Sartura replied.

"Then get on with it," Yron responded.

"I will go with you," Brelyah suggested to Sartura.

The two girls bound up the stairs, climbed on the horses that were tied at the top of the stairs, and headed toward the King's tent. Yron shook his head. Perhaps the girls will entertain themselves and annoy me less, he hoped. He wasn't sure what he was going to do with two girls around; he had barely been able to deal with one for the last several weeks. This was certainly something his wizard training hadn't prepared him for.

Another hour passed before everyone was ready to leave. Yron decided to travel south along the forest edge. With a little luck, they could find the main road that traveled from the cliff edge to the center of the old city. Yron hoped that the road would be easier to travel on than cutting through the forest.

Looking over his shoulder, Yron could see the small company was ready to move out. Near the back, Sartura and Brelyah were spending more time talking than paying attention to what was happening around them. At least Sartura was no longer wearing a dress. She was dressed in traveling armor and strapped to her side was a long sword. On her other hip, she sported a medium-sized knife.

The Princess looks dangerous, Yron thought. But he knew there was no way she had the strength necessary to use the weapon she sported for a prolonged period of time. Yron shook his head at her choice of weapon. It wasn't as though she needed to appear more frightening. After all, she was the King's daughter; Yron felt that was intimidating enough.

Nodding to the guards around him, Yron placed his heels against Tristina's thighs and started to move out. Behind, he could hear the others following him. They had ridden a little more than thirty minutes when Yron called for the party to stop at a well that was used to water the livestock on the plateau. He didn't believe they would find many more opportunities to water their horses and decided this would be a good place to rest.

As everyone milled around while their horses were drinking, Yron cast a Find spell on the sword Sartura was carrying. Yron wanted to be able to know where the King's daughter was all the times. If he was going to be responsible for her safety, then he needed to know where she was. The Find spell would give him the ability to find Sartura wherever she went provided she had the sword with her presence. He figured she wouldn't venture very far from her sword. When they stopped for the night, he would find something else that would be more reliable on which to cast his spell.

It had been four days since Darmuth had left the castle heading toward Benflyn Dor. As Raaj looked around the castle, he knew it was becoming difficult for him to find anything to do. After the first few days, archer competitions lost their excitement. The food was taken from the castle, and there were only so many ways one could cook dried meat and bread. They were also down to their last cask of ale, which would be gone in the next few days. With no fruits, no vegetables, and nothing to drink but water after the ale was gone; Raaj was concerned he wouldn't be able to keep the men's attention.

The last scout report came in that morning from the west, and it was consistent with what Raaj had found when he scouted the Shakarine. They weren't finished with their war preparations and weren't preparing to march on the castle.

Raaj hadn't expected King Timon's request to cast the Inset on his son would take so long. In less than a month, the annual meeting of the Wizards' Guild would be taking place at the Mascar. This meeting would be one of the most important in centuries. The Mascar this year would focus on a country at war and what role, if any, the Guild would play.

He wondered how many of the wizards of the High Plains would travel to the meeting. This meeting of the Guilds was for all wizards across the entire world. Many of these wizards would already be traveling to their meeting, which was secret to all but those wizards who were attending.

Raaj was concerned for the security of the wizards who would attend. The danger was real, especially from those that didn't want a repeat of the death and carnage from the wizard battles that happened during the Shadow Wars. But also from the wizards themselves who might want to eliminate competition so that they could provide an advantage to the kingdoms they may be supporting. If only the white trees hadn't all been killed, he would be able to use the essence from one of the trees to prevent the use of magic during the Mascar.

The last time the Guilds were involved in a war, wizards were pitted against wizards. The battles were reduced to wizards attacking each other, and in the process, large numbers of soldiers and citizens – who happened to be caught between the battling wizards – were killed. The soldiers who fought in the battles mostly protected the wizards from attacks by other armies, but in so doing, many were killed or maimed in the magical crossfire.

At the final battle between Lord Malkanard and Grand Master Glemmic, over thirty wizards died that day. The Guild had never recovered from those deaths. During the war, almost sixty percent of the Wizards' Guild was destroyed along with most of the maiggii. There was a lot of discussion within the Guild as to whether they should break the Guild's rules and allow each wizard to train two maiggiis until the Guild regained its previous strength, but in the end, the suggestion was overturned.

After that meeting a thousand years ago, two small groups of wizards had broken away from the Guild, although chance encounters still brought them together on occasion. One group formed the Healer's Guild, where magic was used solely to prolong or save a life. The other group, for the most part, hid among the general population somewhere off the High Plains and swore never to use aggressive spells for any reason. Despite this fracture, the original Guild had survived and flourished. Raaj knew that many wizards, among them the very powerful, would attend the approaching meeting.

Three months after the Mascar, Master Raaj would then travel to the Wizards' Guild meeting where he would officiate. Unlike the Mascar, the Wizards' Guild meeting was held in secret. Its location and time were unknown to the public and anyone else that didn't receive an invitation.

With the new attention to the Wizards' Guild and the use of the forbidden warrior spells by the attacking Shakarine, Raaj's biggest responsibility was to protect the members of the Guild.

Raaj sighed deeply, as he reflected on his situation. The time he had to prepare for these meetings was quickly dwindling, and the wait within Yemenor was only worsening his plight.

The prairie never changed. It had been three days since they had met up with the main force of King Timon's army, and if they hadn't been keeping the tree line to the south in sight, it would be easy to think they were walking in circles. Over time, the camp had fallen into a consistent pattern. With every occasional stream crossing, they would refill their water barrels and take advantage of watering the livestock in the stream before continuing onward.

Meanwhile, the guards assigned to protect the livestock were working overtime, and there were very few reported losses. On those occasions when they did discover wild animals had attacked the herd, the guards were able to kill the predatory animals and procure the downed livestock meat so that they could use it for the next meal.

Despite all his protests, Lord Kimberlee was still unable to convince the Queen to move her wagon closer to the front of the column. If he hadn't respected the Queen before this time, he would have found respect for her now – it was clear she cared more for her people than for her own comfort. Lord Kimberlee's wife traveled with the Queen, and he frequently visited her. He watched his wife and the Queen wipe the trail dust off their faces and out of their mouths.

Each night they had to remove the dust from their bedding and food utensils. To ease their discomfort as much as he could, Lord Kimberlee made a habit of bringing fresh drinking water with him when he visited because the water they carried in the water barrels strapped to their wagons was muddied from the dust.

Despite their advances, in the evening council meeting Lord Kimberlee was frustrated that they were not making as much progress as he had hoped. His lack of satisfaction increased significantly when Lord Capnar advised they were still a week away from Benflyn Dor.

Darmuth knew how imperative it was to get the box that Raaj had entrusted him with to Yron. The last few nights, he and his men had ridden well into the night and awakened before daybreak to continue forward as quickly as possible. Darmuth wasn't sure how much farther they would need to go before they would meet his father and Yron, but he hoped they were quickly approaching the plateau.

This morning they had turned south along the eastern passage and from what he remembered from his geography studies, Benflyn Dor couldn't be more than a two or three day's ride away. Everyone in the company was saddle sore, including Darmuth.

When the Prince heard from others in the company about their sores, he decided they would need to spend some time walking alongside their horses. Fortunately, since Darmuth started doing this, the nagging issue seemed to ease up.

It had been a long, hard ride from Yemenor. Since no one had any time to clean up or truly rest, Darmuth decided they would ride to the next stream and break for the remainder of the day. It would be nice to have warm food; Darmuth was looking forward to a cooked meal. He was pleased that the scouts had taken it upon themselves to seek out venison that they could use for dinner that night. It only took a couple of hours before one of the scout teams brought in a young buck they had shot with their arrows. Darmuth was pleased that they had field dressed the deer before they carried it to camp.

Shortly after noon, the company came upon one of the streams that ran along the edge of the forest before flowing across the prairie. The first item of business was to build a fire; the men were hungry, and the venison looked delicious. Soon enough, the men also found other things they could add to the meal. For Darmuth, the tubers(a wild potato) that were found, along with the spices, were the best.

Thankfully, one of the men had carried a small pouch of salt that helped in the seasoning. By the time the deer was cooked, everyone had a chance to bathe and care for their horses. It had been so long since anyone had had a good meal, and Darmuth could tell that the aroma from cooking the deer was increasing the hunger pangs of the men.

When the soldier who was responsible for cooking the deer announced that it was ready, manners went out the window, and it was every man for himself. After the first course, there was less than half the deer left, most of the tubers were gone, and anything else that resembled food had been devoured.

As the only women on this expedition, Brelyah took the opportunity to talk with Sartura. Initially, the talk was about the weather and then about things they had in common. Eventually, it turned to boys, but each time Brelyah attempted to ask deeper questions to get a better understanding of who Sartura was behind her royal facade, Sartura deftly avoided the conversation.

This is going to take longer than I thought, Brelyah mused. The little Princess was trained well in the Yemenor court. It wasn't long before Sartura started to question Brelyah. Initially, Brelyah answered Sartura's questions until she realized what she was doing.

Brelyah laughed, "So, let me get this straight. I ask you questions, and you don't answer. Then you ask me questions, and you expect me to answer?" Sartura smiled mischievously, and both girls giggled.

They rode in silence for a while, Brelyah reminding herself that while the Princess had the appearance of being young and naïve, she was more experienced and mature than her looks gave her credit.

Brelyah could see the Princess' helmet strapped to the side of her saddle. Sartura's glimmering coal black hair reflected the sun's rays. It looked like it had been washed and cared for in the best salons, but Brelyah knew better because Sartura was trapped with the same conditions as she was. There were no special minerals or lotions for her while she was stuck on the top of this rock – the Princess' beauty was natural.

Several times Sartura wanted to ask Brelyah more questions, but each time she started, she remembered her father's lectures about social manners and the danger of asking questions. He always said that when a person asked a question, they were giving the person answering the question knowledge about what was on their mind or those things that were important to them.

Finally, Sartura couldn't stand the silence any longer. "Do you think that wizard boy knows where he is going?" she asked.

Brelyah smiled. She was glad Sartura had started the dialogue because the silence was killing her, and she didn't know how much longer she could go without speaking. "He looks so young, yet he has knowledge beyond his years. He rides with confidence, and he leads with confidence, but I suspect you can do that when you have a map," Brelyah replied with a twinkle in her gray eyes.

Sartura laughed. "How long have you known him? How did you meet?" she inquired.

Brelyah didn't expect such a direct question so early in the conversation. "Well, when we met, for me it was a captivating experience," she said, "but, as you probably know, he makes an impression on everyone he meets. And you?"

"We met just the other day. He caught me changing behind a wagon that was near his camp. You cannot believe how embarrassing that was, but I give the boy credit. Once he saw me, he turned his back and didn't look again. I cannot say that much for Justin, the King's guard," Sartura continued.

Brelyah was pleased Sartura didn't ask again how long she had known Yron. "He is puzzling," Brelyah said almost under her breath. "I think he is more than he pretends to be. No maiggii that I have ever heard of has such a command of magic. I have often wondered if he is a wizard pretending to be a maiggii, but that doesn't make any sense."

Sartura rode in silence. From where she was riding, she could see Yron's firm, muscular jaw. Even in his youth, he looks mature and handsome, she thought. Looking at Brelyah, she wondered if her new friend had the same feelings. A reluctant wizard, she thought. Hmmm...

Brelyah broke the silence, "Have you ever heard of a wizard choosing a mate?" she wondered out loud.

Sartura laughed, "Awwwww, so you are interested in him!"

Brelyah started to blush, "No, actually not. He is much too young for me." Trying to explain further what she meant, she continued, "I want to be Yron's apprentice, and it just dawned on me that maybe wizards cannot get married nor have a companion, which was something I had never thought about until now."

Sartura smiled. Hmmm...competition, she thought. Ever since she saw the young maiggii in her father's tent at Ranker Thor, she had found him fascinating. Even now, as she remembered watching Yron from behind the tent flap while they were crossing the central prairie on their way to Benflyn Dor, her heart raced a little, but except for Yron saving her life the other night, he didn't appear to even notice her.

She was surprised how easy it was to convince her father that the young maiggii should explore the plateau, and she should go along so that she could report back on what they found. She was sure her father could see right through her desire to get to know the young maiggii better, but then again, sending her on a mission might have been the easiest way to get her out of his hair.

Brelyah didn't know what to do or say. A change of topic would be obvious. If she tried to defend her feelings, it would only dig a deeper hole, and if she remained silent, she wasn't being honest. "Okay, I do think he is quite handsome, but I really want to be his apprentice, and I can't see how it would work," Brelyah finally admitted. Unfortunately, Brelyah thought to herself, there was more truth in that statement that anyone could realize.

It was now Sartura's time to feel uncomfortable. "Yes, handsome, but the Grand Master Wizard's Maiggii...whatever that means..." Sartura didn't finish either her thought or her sentence.

The two women rode on in silence.

They had been riding for about seven hours when Yron stopped the expedition and pointed to the ground. "I think this is the old road," he said. "We will turn west here. I hope we will find it easier traveling on this old cobblestone road than trying to cut through the forest."

Yron got off his horse and started to scrape away the layers of decayed grass. After a few minutes of scraping, the maiggii could expose the cobblestone pathway. Looking along the ancient path, it was evident the old route cutting through the forest had less growth than its surroundings.

After traveling a few hours longer, Yron stopped and rolled out the map he had been carrying. Looking over his shoulder, Sartura could see that if they were at the place where Yron had believed, it would take them a couple of days, at best, to travel through the trees and get to the center of the old city.

Yron rolled up the map and climbed onto his Payleen. Traveling into the forest became a serpentine action. Yron led them twisting through the trees, but he was right. Unlike the forest they had passed getting to the cobblestone road, there was not much undergrowth on the cobblestone path. Traveling on the path was difficult, but after they had traveled several hundred yards, the undergrowth disappeared and, except for dead branches that stuck out from the trees, the cobblestone trail was relatively clear.

The leaves overhead made the area under the trees dark and hard to ride through. Yron soon dismounted from his Payleen and cast Light spells on the stirrups of each rider before remounting Tristina. The spells cast enough light to see as though it was day, but the light was eerie, creating an underworld-like atmosphere beneath the thick trees.

An uneasy silence was felt in the forest. Above in the treetops, chirping birds flying from branch to branch could be heard, but at the base of the trees, dead branches reached out from the trunks into the path. Cobblestones were strewn about around the base of the trees where the roots had pushed the rocks away as they grew. Everything was a dark brown with half rotten gray leaves creating a blanket of silence as the horses rode across the stone path.

The sun was beginning to set when the undergrowth began to make it hard to continue along the road. Yron and one of the guards had to dismount from their horses and cut the underbrush away with their swords. After half an hour of cutting the undergrowth away, they came to a small lake that stretched out to the northern side of the path. Along the sides of the lake, broken down and overgrown stone houses with roofs that had long ago caved in dotted the shoreline. Many of the houses had large trees growing in the center of their foundations.

Yron unrolled the map again only to discover that the lake was one of a series of lakes that ran alongside the pathway. If Yron was reading the map correctly, they could be at the city center within two days. He was pleased, as they were making good progress. The horses took time to drink while the members of the party stretched their muscles.

As Yron sat on one of the large rocks near the edge of the lake, he pondered the day's events. He leaned back against the trunk of an old, gray, dead tree whose branches stretched out over the lake and created a nice shady place for him to study his map. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw the reflection of a woman in the water. He stared carefully at the water but only ripples emanated from where he had been looking. Yron shook his head, refocusing on the lake's surface in confusion.

Yron shook his head again, blinked his eyes, and then rubbed them giving him the ability to focus on the lake's surface. From what he could see, there was no explanation for the ripples. They seemed to appear from out of nowhere. Then, as he continued to stare hard at the surface, the image of the woman reappeared to Yron twice more. Each time it was the same woman. and each time her facial features became clearer.

Every time the image disappeared, ripples appeared in the water. Yron desperately searched his memory. The face seemed familiar somehow, but he couldn't place the woman. He didn't think she was someone he'd ever met or even seen, but her image sparked an instinctual feeling of remembrance within him.

After several long minutes of staring into the water, Yron gave up attempting to understand what was happening and climbed down from the rock. He hadn't taken more than ten steps when he quickly turned to look at the water again. This time, the image of a wizard prepared for battle in full armor, complete with a staff, materialized above the lake's surface.

The image didn't disappear, as he walked back toward the water. Across the way, Brelyah called for Yron, "What are you looking at?" Yron looked up to reply to her, and when he looked back at the water, the wizard had disappeared, and the water was filled with ripples.

Yron looked back two more times, as he walked away from the lake, but neither time could he see any image. His mind overflowed with questions. Who was the woman? Why did she disappear once he saw her? Who was the wizard, and why did he let Yron see all of who he was? Yron was still pondering questions about the images in the lake when one of the guards approached him to remind him it was getting late.

"Okay, you are right, let's set up camp here," Yron agreed.

As the guards began to set up camp, Yron studied the map. He noticed the map showed a tunnel entrance that should be in the vicinity; he wanted time to explore to see if he could find it. If he were right, the tunnel would be several hundred yards ahead on the right. Unsheathing his sword, Yron started to hack away at the undergrowth while the other guards helped. Sartura and Brelyah, on the other hand, remained sitting back at the clearing, laughing and joking with the guards who were setting up the camp and had chosen not to help Yron find the tunnel.

It wasn't until they reached the forest edge, that one of the guards found the entrance. The entrance was made from stone. It looked like a tiny stone room with a door that had rotted away. The stairs led down into a dark cavern. Yron entered the cavern with the guards after he cast a Light spell inside the tunnel. He could see the stairs went down about fifteen feet underground before they flattened out.

From this landing, the tunnel stretched both east and west. Yron pulled the map out and used it to see where the tunnels ended. One of them ended near the site where King Timon and the others were camping, and the other headed toward the city center and intersected with several other paths along the way. Yron would have liked to explore all the paths to discover what secrets they held, but curiosity would have to be second to what Yron was trying to find.

Unbeknownst to the others, Yron was searching for the great library and the two other caverns which, according to the books he had started interpreting, only a few of the people on the plateau could see – Master Glemmic being one of them. Yron still didn't know how he was going to get the time and space he would need to explore them once he found them; his only plan would be to distract the others by having them explore some other site hidden in the tunnels. For now, they would have to leave the tunnels and head back to the others.

It was late, and the sun had been set for hours when Yron finally extinguished the light and put the map away. He had been studying it for hours hoping to find an indication of where the library was and what other things he would want to explore. He fell asleep still looking for some indication of the location of the library.

When Yron woke, the rest of the camp was preparing for breakfast. Yron and one of the other guards began to cut away the undergrowth, so when they were ready to leave, they wouldn't have to search for the cobblestone path as it left the clearing. It took another half an hour before they could cut their way through the underbrush and find the path they had been following before they came upon the lake.

Once they found the path, they returned, ate a quick breakfast, and prepared to continue their search for the ancient city. Brelyah and Sartura were the last to be ready, which only frustrated Yron, as he and the rest of the company waited so that they could continue their journey. Yron needed time to think, so he decided to ride ahead on the trail. Ahead, he saw something red off to one side of the path. The brightness of the color under the canopy of the trees was something Yron was surprised to see. Soon enough, alongside the road, he found several red flowers. They were growing in clumps, and their wax-like appearance was something Yron had never seen or heard of before.

Dismounting Tristina, Yron reached down and plucked several of the flowers. No sooner had Yron picked the flowers than they began to wilt, turn black, and lose their vibrant color. Pulling his knife from its pouch, Yron dug up several bulbs of the flowers he had picked. In one of the pouches he stored in his bag, he placed the wilted petals and the bulbs along with a handful of the leaves. This would be just another thing he would ask Raaj about when they finally met up.

It wasn't long after Yron climbed back onto Tristina that the rest of the group caught up, so Yron turned Tristina and headed west along the path into the forest. One of the guards requested to take the lead, and Yron agreed. He hoped to hear what Sartura and Brelyah were talking about. It was a discouraging situation for Yron. When he was leading the column, he could hear them chatting and laughing. But, when he fell back into the column, close enough that he might be able to catch what they were talking about, they were totally silence.

After a few minutes, Yron gave up trying to listen to the ladies' conversation and rode ahead. Sure enough, when he returned to the front of the column, their visiting resumed.

# Chapter 44

Good news arrived at the end of the day for Lord Og. First, the catapults were placed in defensive positions around the entrance of the plateau. In the morning, they would fire test loads. This would allow Lords Og and Myningar to understand how far the new catapults could fire the various types of ammunition. This would prevent Lord Myningar's troops from charging from the entrance so far onto the battlefield that they could be caught in the range of their catapult defense system.

The second news came from the scouts. The cliff walls, for twenty miles around the entrance, had been secured. There were still hundreds of miles that still needed to be secured, but they were making progress. Lord Og decided to take the scouts to the command center so that they could give their report to King Timon. Before leaving the entrance with the returning scouts, he placed two guard stations at the bottom of the road for the night. At the top of the cliff next to the road, a final gated station had one hundred and fifty soldiers stationed to stop any assault against the top of the plateau that might somehow elude the troops on the prairie floor.

In the morning, they would prepare a better defense solution for the road. For now, they would use what they had. Lord Og left the entrance and the final preparation to his officers and led the returning scouts to the command center and King Timon.

Lord Og stood at the back of the command tent and listened to the scout reports. This was the best news they had received in weeks, except for the maiggii repairing the road. Plans were in place for the entire perimeter of the plateau to be secured. Several of the rock lookout points were still in good condition, and most of the others were in repairable condition. Only three or four would need to be rebuilt. Three of those were on the east side of the plateau where the King, and those who were occupying the plateau, could easily help in the rebuilding process.

The scouts reported that the fire pots built into the lookout posts were still in good enough condition that they could be put into action immediately. After the scouts finished their report, they retired for the evening. Tomorrow they would be leaving for several weeks to continue scouting around the entire perimeter of the plateau.

After the reports, it only took a few minutes for the War Council to finalize the actions needed to protect the border of the plateau. In the morning, Lord Og would send men to repair the three outlooks that were nearby. By midmorning, the men who were going to repair the final outlook would have the provisions necessary, along with the tools needed, to build or rebuild outlooks around the entire perimeter.

Lord Myningar would need soldiers to man the outlooks the scouts had identified. There would need to be a plan put in place that would allow rotation of the scouts on a regular basis. Perhaps this would be one way the young maiggii's mission to understand the tunneling under the plateau would be of great help, the King thought. Sitting in the War Council chambers alone, he wished he had taken more time to study the maiggii's map. Maybe he would have noticed if the tunnels that ran to the edge of the cliff were used to support the outlooks.

For now, the scouts would need travel along the edge of the cliffs to man the outlooks. Sending the men in opposite directions around the plateau would cut the time of the rotation by weeks; however, being able to cut across the plateau through tunnels that had been built under the plateau's forest would make it so they could rotate the scouts in days.

Sending his daughter away to explore the plateau with the maiggii was the right thing to do. King Timon knew it, but that didn't mean it was easy, especially after her solo journey across the plains just days before. Nevertheless, the information the young maiggii could provide about the tunnels might have value beyond measure now that the scout outlooks were usable. This possibility was more than the King could have hoped for when he sent the young maiggii on what he had initially deemed a busy work mission to keep his daughter occupied.

The most pressing issue on the King's mind was the presence of enemy agents on the plateau. The events of the night before proved that enemies attacking the plateau were not the only enemies they needed to be prepared for. Thankfully, when the fight broke out, the young maiggii acted quickly and averted what was potentially a deadly situation. Whether it was the archers with the assassin's arrows, the former ranger who was prepared to kill his daughter, or any number of unknown factors, the one great truth was that no one was safe on the plateau.

Ensuring his daughter's safety by sending her on a pointless mission exploring tunnels under the plateau where nothing would be able to harm her, was the smartest thing the King thought he could do. Having the young maiggii be responsible for her made him feel additionally secure. While the young man was handsome by any measure, King Timon knew that only after a maiggii passed his initiation and had proven himself by successfully completing the Brazens Catrope – the final test a maiggii needed to pass before they became a wizard – could they interact socially with women.

After that, he would require the Grand Wizard Council's approval of the woman before the wizard could begin courtship. Any interaction before that time would cause the wizard's removal from the membership of the Guild. The wizard and ranger clans were the strictest when it came to courtship. King Timon wondered if there was a political reason for the rule or if it was just that the training was so rigorous that any type of social interaction between the sexes could cause too much distraction to the potential Guild member.

As the King pondered the events of the last few days, he thought about the ex-ranger who had accused the young maiggii. This would have normally caused King Timon great concern because he knew the damage a rogue maiggii could cause. However, Maiggii Yron had proven he didn't have the tattoos on his forearms that a ranger's maiggii would have had. In addition, he knew that Grand Master Raaj's maiggii wouldn't have had the time to travel off the High Plains to participate in any other Guild initiation. Simply put, the King was convinced Yron was who he said he was which put his mind at ease.

The King knew he needed to improve the security on Benflyn Dor. He had hoped that this would be a place of refuge. In the morning, he would have Lord Tolback interrogate the assassin archers. He knew the archers had earned the right to be a part of the King's Guard, but he couldn't remember who had nominated them. What he did know was they had been a part of his guard for over three years.

Clearly, this attack against the people of the High Plains had been planned for a long time. He was just lucky they didn't attack before the real war began. If they had, King Timon believed they would have been successful. This left the King to wonder, why they didn't attack sooner? Perhaps Lord Tolback could discover the answer to this.

As the King recalled the events of the attack, he became curious as to how the young maiggii defended himself against the arrows. Had he used a magical spell? The King knew the arrows hit the young maiggii because he saw them knock him back, but the arrows had bounced off the leather armor the maiggii was wearing although they should have pierced the leather. In fact, he thought they had when, for a moment, the spells Yron had cast almost faltered; yet, the maiggii was able to regain his concentration to maintain the hold on the spell and walk away unwounded. Interesting, the King mused.

The calls of the birds in the tree canopy overhead awakened Yron. Trying to drown out the sounds of morning, Yron wanted to return to sleep. He had been dreaming, and this dream was different than most. This dream was about the tunnels under the plateau, more specifically about a secret room off the main entrance to the tunnel system. There was something in that room he was supposed to do or find.

In his dream, a woman was talking to him. She was preparing to tell him what he needed to do when he was awakened. Try as he might, he couldn't find a way to return to the dream or even the sleep that had induced the dream. All he could remember was that it was something to do with a book... a book and the white tree.

The part about the white tree was especially intriguing to him. Perhaps if he could unlock knowledge about the white tree, he would be able to understand more about the cavern he had found in the Western Mountains, but the image of the white tree he had seen in his dream was completely different than the white tree he had seen in the cavern.

Suddenly, Yron sat up. The woman from his dream wasn't just any woman. She was the woman he had seen in the lake water the day before. Making the connection, he understood her familiarity; she had occasionally appeared in his dreams throughout his lifetime. How could I have missed that? Yron thought furiously to himself. I wish Raaj were here. I need someone to talk with. I can't sort all this out on my own. Admitting to himself that there was nothing he could do at present, Yron filed away the dream along with the mysterious woman. It was time to get back to the exploration.

Yron could see that most of the camp was waking up. He figured they should have a quick breakfast before moving on, so Yron announced his plan and took a piece of bread and honeycomb to eat. Yron was hoping to reach the center of the old city before dusk. As he walked around the camp, he cast Light spells on the stirrups of the horses again. The light from the stirrups had worked well the day before, and he decided there was no reason to change things now.

Brelyah and Sartura slept in the same tent, and Yron had heard them talking and giggling late into the night. Both women were fast asleep when Yron shook the door of their tent, causing them to jump at his voice. Thinking of how they had kept him from sleeping, Yron took delight in waking them up. "We will be leaving in ten minutes," he announced. Smiling, he took joy in giving them the impossible deadline.

Yron was surprised how quickly Sartura and Brelyah had gotten ready and was even more surprised that neither of them uttered a word of complaint. The ride through the forest was much like the day before. The buildings that once housed the people of Carbynarah during the Shadow Wars, were now nothing but ghost of their former selves.

By noon, the trees were less dense, the path was clearer, and the sun was shining through the tree canopy and casting its rays to the ground. By mid-afternoon, the forest had disappeared entirely. It was replaced by an abandoned city that had fallen into disrepair. The buildings were in obvious decay as roofs had collapsed into the rock walls of the homes, and only occasionally, did they pass a building whose roof was still intact.

Yron agreed to take a break to eat something for dinner. This would give him time to check the map again. He was sure they were getting close, and he didn't want to miss the entrance to the tunnels. To the left, Yron saw a large cathedral-looking building with high spires and colored glass windows. The slate roof was still intact.

As Yron started to unroll the map, he noticed the ancient Wizard's Guild emblem – something that looked a lot like the emblem of a Ranger's Guild – as well as another symbol Yron had never seen before. The emblems were carved in the stone over the top of the missing front entrance double doors of the cathedral.

In the front of the building, was a gaping square hole where the doors once hung. As Yron walked toward it, Sartura ran to catch up with him. "I thought you were supposed to protect me," she said. "How can you protect me if you are always wandering off?"

Biting his lip and rolling his eyes, Yron didn't respond. Instead, he quietly let out a heavy sigh and hoped she would just leave him alone. Her constant chatting with Brelyah along the trail annoyed him. Yron hadn't decided what annoyed him more – that Sartura was becoming a friend with Brelyah, or that he couldn't hear what they were saying.

Walking into the building, Yron could see that some of the windows were broken out. Leaves and debris were scattered everywhere, especially in the front of a room Yron thought might be a Guild meeting hall. A large broken limb had fallen through the roof at the back of the building and was lying on the altar.

Above the altar was a glass picture of a man dressed in white leaning against a staff, and in the background, was a white tree, which was in full bloom with white flowers. Standing around the man in white, were several people. Surrounding the tree were flowers like the red ones Yron had picked and placed in his pack. Other pictures around the walls portrayed the same man in white appearing to pray, fighting off some type of monster, or walking through trees.

Yron remembered being told that long ago, the Guild had buildings of worship for Guild members. In towns where a Guild wasn't large enough to have their own place of worship, several Guilds would share such a building. This ancient city appeared to be large enough for a Guild to have their own building, but Yron suspected this was one of those shared guild buildings.

Rolling out his map, Yron could see that there were many emblems identical to those carved into the stonework inside the Guild's building. Holding the map, Yron walked toward the altar. On the front of the altar, was a large symbol carved out of a white stone. As he walked closer, Yron realized the symbol wasn't cut out of stone as he originally thought. Instead, it was carved into white wood. He touched the wood only to find that it felt as smooth as marble with only an occasional crack. The heart of the emblem appeared to have a pond with a stream flowing from it.

Even though the wood trim that surrounded the white wood was decaying and breaking down, but the white wood retained its appearance as though it had just been placed on the front of the altar. Yron wanted to see if he could cut a small slice of the wood from the edge, but he couldn't seem to force himself to do it. At the bottom of the white emblem, it looked like something had grown from the bottom of the wood. If he didn't know better, he would have thought he was seeing roots, but they had died long ago when they were unable to find dirt on the stone floors.

If that were true, this piece of white wood could be or was alive at one time. It was a silly thought, and Yron knew it. Nonetheless, it was a thought that he couldn't shake. Suddenly, the temptation to pull his knife and shave off a small piece of what appeared to be the root system was more than Yron could resist. As he attempted to shave a small portion of the root-like material, the metal of his blade seemed to melt away. After pulling the knife away, Yron saw a large hole in the edge of his blade where it had touched the root. Trying a second time netted the same result.

Yron turned when Sartura grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back, as he was about to attempt to trim a piece of the root away the third time. He found Sartura pointing toward the emblem on the altar. When he looked where she was pointing, he could see light emitting from the white tree in the emblem. The blue pond in the middle of the emblem was getting darker.

"Perhaps it is time we left," Sartura suggested.

Yron agreed. He couldn't see anything, but he felt that they had overstayed their welcome. Rising, he grabbed the map, and the two of them ran from the Guild Chapel. "I had the strangest feeling that we needed to leave right that moment," Sartura told Yron.

Yron nodded his head in response. When Sartura touched his shoulder, it had awakened Yron from what he could only describe as a trance. It wasn't that Yron was seeing a vision or that there was something specific that had captured his attention, but it felt like he had lost his will to do anything but sleep.

The map indicated they were close to the center of the city. From what Yron could tell, if they walked thirteen buildings down from the cathedral they had just left, they would find a large building. Behind it, would be a big lake with several walkways leading to the center of the lake. In the center where the walkways met, Yron would find the entrance to the tunnel system. Tristina followed Yron, as he started walking with Sartura, and the others began following him down the road toward the large building.

Sartura grabbed the reins of her horse leading him, as she walked alongside Yron. They hadn't gone more than one hundred yards when the rest of their company caught up. "Have you found what you are looking for?" Brelyah asked.

"Perhaps," Yron replied.

It was a little after midnight when a light appeared on the southern portion of the prairie. It flashed two times then went dark for several minutes. "There it is," the King's guard pointed out. "We need to report this to the King and your commander."

The King's guard didn't need to say more. One of the messengers stationed at the lookout tower turned and ran toward the King's tent.

The other man standing guard reached down to grab a torch from the fire pit. "What are you doing?" the King's guard asked.

"I was going to signal back," the scout replied.

"That would be fine if we knew what the response signal was," the guard continued. "It's too risky to guess. I just wish I knew what they were saying."

The two men stood in silence and looked across the prairie. It wasn't long before Cerdon arrived at the outlook. It took a few minutes before they saw the signal, then off about five or six miles, the light flashed again.

"Sure enough," Cerdon remarked.

The King arrived shortly after the signal stopped. Cerdon turned toward the King. "I saw it too. It was about five miles off," Cerdon said, as he pointed in a direction to the southeast.

"So, the ranger was scheduled to stand guard tonight?" the King re-questioned. Cerdon nodded. "When was he scheduled to be on watch again?" the King inquired.

"In two days," Cerdon replied.

"Don't attempt to reply to the signaler. We will send troops out and attempt to capture the signaler in two days' time. In the meantime, we need to place scouts out there on the prairie floor at night to watch and notify us if there are others signaling from the plateau," the King instructed.

Just as he finished his request, off to the south, the signaler on the prairie attempted to contact the ranger again. King Timon wondered how long the captured ranger had been sending messages. Cerdon seemed to know what the King was thinking. Shaking his head, Cerdon said, "The ranger volunteered to stand watch on the first night."

"Cerdon, will you lead the efforts to capture the spy that is signaling from the prairie floor tomorrow?" the King requested.

"It will be done," Cerdon replied. Both men walked back to the command tent in silence.

"I want the man brought back alive," King Timon reiterated.

The clouds hid the light from the moons. Lord Myningar's scouts had taken their captives to the edge of the kingdom. There, they untied the captives and let them go. The released men walked at first, then after a few yards, began to run away from their escorts into the night. The escorts quickly turned their horses and rode off.

They hadn't ridden more than five hundred yards before several of the scouts slid off their horses and returned to tracking the escaping men. It didn't take them long to find the path in the grass that the men had created by walking through the tall grass. It was apparent they had concerns that they could be tracked. Initially, they split up and then tried to run around in circles, crisscrossing back and forth over the circles only to backtrack and then try to jump off the path so that there was no bent grass to show which way they ran.

For novice trackers, this would have been a problem, but since the prairie grass was mid-chest high, when they jumped off the trail, they broke some of the tops of the grass allowing the trackers to pick up their path easily. Once the men jumped off the trail, they took a direct southern path. From the patterns they were leaving in the grass, they were running single file. This broke down more grass than if the men were running apart, making them even easier to track.

As the sun began to peer over the horizon, the freed men needed to bend down and run in a crouched position so that their heads and shoulders couldn't be seen over the tops of the grass. The scouts could see them running maybe a thousand yards ahead. Occasionally, one of the men would look back to see if anyone was following. Tailing them in the daylight was riskier, and the scouts knew they had to be very careful to make sure one of the men didn't slip off to the side waiting to see if they were being followed. True to their training, the scouts were careful and tracked the men for hours without incident.

Once the sun had risen, the men adjusted their course and headed in more of a southeasterly direction, angling toward the trees. At this point, the scouts broke off into two groups. One group headed east and ran directly toward the trees, and then once they got to the tree line, they followed it south. They were hoping they would catch up with or even get ahead of the spies.

The other group would follow the spies but not as closely as they were now. By midday, it was obvious the spies weren't going to take a break, but they had slowed considerably. From what the scouts could tell, it appeared they were now walking. This would mean the scouts traveling along the tree line would easily get ahead of the spies.

It was dark when one of the men Lord Myningar had sent out to find the spies that were on the prairie floor noticed a light off to the left. The light flashed on, then off, then on again. This happened several times. Dropping off his horse so as not to be seen, the man pointed in the direction of the light and whispered, "Someone is signaling the plateau. The signals are coming from over there."

Tonfyx, the group leader, nodded, deciding to divide the garrison in half. Part of them immediately set off to circle the signaler to capture them if they attempted to run, and the rest would wait and attempt to sneak up on whoever was signaling the plateau. Standing in the saddle of his horse, the leader of the group that was going to circle behind the spies could see the signal also.

The signal appeared to be coming from a mile away. As the group left on horseback to attempt to get behind the signaler, the group assigned to sneak up on the signaler tethered their horses and headed toward the signal on foot. They traveled about a mile, but when they stopped, they could see no further indication of a signal. Tonfyx signaled for everyone to sit down in the grass and wait.

As they sat waiting for some type of sound or indication as to where the signal had come from, they looked back at the plateau. It was easier to see the cliff edges than they had imagined. The moonlight reflected off the rock walls giving them a clear view of the entire eastern edge of the plateau. From where they were sitting, they could see two campfires or areas lit up. Additionally, the sounds of the livestock could be heard clearly.

Tonfyx was about to give up and send his men out in every direction to see if they could discover the whereabouts of the signaler when, just off to their right not more than one hundred and fifty feet away, someone lit a fire. After a few minutes, someone else lit a torch and started to wave it. From where Tonfyx was sitting, he could see most of what was going on. There were two men, one holding the torch and the other holding up a blanket in front of the torch by doing this they were able to signal someone on the plateau. Every so often, they would stop signaling and wait for a reply.

This went on for an hour. Eventually, the men stomped out the fire and extinguished the torch. Tonfyx had developed a plan. He assigned two men to circle and get far behind the signalers to prevent them from escaping. Once they were in place, he would motion for half of his men to encircle the signalers. They were to wait for the other half of the team to initiate an attack. The first group was to stay back and only show themselves if any of the signalers broke through the men that were assigned to attack.

The signalers needed to be taken alive, so Tonfyx ordered the men to only hit the signalers with the sides of their swords and not on the head. Two of the men were assigned to capture the signalers' mode of transportation. He estimated it would take four hours before the sun would break over the forest.

Tonfyx and his men waited for the other part of their team to launch their charge. Half an hour passed, then another half hour with no charge. Tonfyx knew he had to do something; there was no time to lose. From his position, he could see the signalers were beginning to break camp. Rising from his position to the west, he ordered his men to charge the signalers. All around him, he could see and hear his men following his lead.

He hadn't run more than fifty feet when rising from the prairie floor, a fifteen-foot-tall hawk stood and turned toward him. Flapping its wings aggressively, the bird started to snap at him. Tonfyx used his sword as purely a defensive tool against the first few strikes. Backing out of the range of attack by the tethered hawk, he watched his men take the signalers captive.

Tonfyx carefully walked in a wide circle around the hawk to where the signalers were laying on the ground. The two barbarian women were tied and held to the ground by his men, their bows laying on the ground beside them. From the look of things, they had been camping here for some time. Deer carcasses lie half eaten by the giant hawk, and the grass in the area was beaten down. There was no tent, and it was clear the women had been sleeping on deer hides on the ground.

"We will send people back for the hawk," Tonfyx explained to his men. "Take that pole and tie this red shirt to it. We can return with a wagon to collect the bird."

As they were preparing to leave, Tonfyx changed his mind. "I want two of you to stay behind," he said. "Any volunteers?" Two men raised their hands, and Tonfyx asked one of the volunteers to go back and fetch their horses. The remaining men took their prisoners back to their horses; they were ordered to ride back to the plateau and Lord Myningar.
Chapter 45

The map showed a large lake surrounded by many expansive buildings. From the writing on the map, Yron realized the buildings surrounding the lake represented the kingdoms that once occupied this land. To the north was the largest of the buildings, which was the palace that King Timon's ancestors once claimed as their home.

From the stairs to the entrance of each home, a rock bridge scaled across the lake meeting the other bridges on a platform in the center. Several sections of the bridges had collapsed into the lake, and it looked like there were only two bridges still intact. "Split up and let's see what we can find," Yron suggested. "Stay in groups of two. Sartura you are staying with me."

The architecture was stunning; even Sartura was in awe by its grandeur. The lake was manmade, and the water came up to a rock wall encircling the entire lake. From what Yron could see, the lake was perfectly round. The wall surrounding the lake rose above it about a foot. Pulling his sword, he tried to see if he could determine how deep the water was, but even with his arm fully immersed in the water, the tip of the sword didn't touch the bottom.

As Yron lie on his stomach trying to determine the depth of the lake, the image of the woman suddenly shimmered in the water in front of him. As Yron pushed himself up to get a better view, the image disappeared. Once again, leaving only ripples in the water. Sartura was the only one near. "Did you see that?" he asked her.

"See what?" Sartura answered, raising an eyebrow.

"Never mind." Yron was confused. He had seen the image of this woman in dreams several times over his lifetime, but in the last few days, her image had appeared almost every time he was near water. No one else seemed to be able to see her. As Yron stood looking around, he could see that much of his group was off exploring the area and surrounding buildings.

"Let's go," Yron said, as he turned and headed for one of the standing bridges. Sartura started to protest. She hated being told what to do, but seeing where he was headed, she eagerly followed him amidst protests. Smiling to herself, This might give me some time alone with the wizard, she thought.

"We are going to the center of the lake to explore the tunnel system. Get your stuff," Yron continued. Grabbing his pack, Yron headed out onto the bridge. It took a few moments for Sartura to catch up, and while she did, Yron looked back at the Timon Family house. There was something about the building that was strangely familiar, but Yron couldn't place it.

Shaking his head at yet another mystery, Yron and Sartura started across the bridge that spanned the lake. He was pleased that there were no structural problems with the bridge and that it didn't take them long to reach the center. When they arrived, he looked around the area and realized the bridge system and lawns around it was a park area where people could sit and enjoy the surroundings. It was a place where Yron would have enjoyed relaxing and studying.

Whistling to get the attention of the others in his group, Yron motioned for them to follow him into the tunnel he had found. Yron was too excited to wait for them, so once he got their attention, he ducked down the large stairwell into the tunnels below. Yron expected it to be dark, but something along the top edge of the passageways not only illuminated the central corridor but each tunnel as well.

At each tunnel, there was a sign. It was written in a language Yron hadn't seen before, one that he was unable to translate with the spell he knew. As they continued onward, Sartura walked close to Yron. He liked her company. She was so unlike Brelyah. She wasn't into questioning everything or needing to understand each detail. Instead, she pointed out things that perhaps Yron hadn't seen.

He appreciated that Sartura had her sword drawn. Her muscles were tense, and Yron believed that if something had jumped out of the dark, she would be able to defend herself quite well. Perhaps protecting her wouldn't be as burdensome as he had initially feared. As he turned his attention back to his surroundings, Yron saw that the central corridor had two levels. The first level seemed to have more meeting halls, and the lower hall had the tunnels that led throughout the plateau.

When Yron heard the others enter the tunnel system, he and Sartura headed back to the first level. There, they found the other members of their party exploring nearby rooms. Brelyah had found a door that couldn't be opened, and when Yron arrived, he could see several of the men trying to force the door open. Yron's attention was drawn to one of the symbols carved into the door.

It looked like the symbols that were in the Wizard's Guild cathedral-like building they had explored earlier. As Yron ran his finger across the symbol, once again, it reminded him of something he had seen before. It was right there on the tip of his memory but what was it? Where had he seen the symbol before? There was no doorknob, only the symbol and a flat piece of wood with an inscription. As he touched the writing, he felt – ever so slightly – a warm tingle travel through his hand. It lasted only a brief second.

Immediately after he moved his hand, a latch moved in the door, and it opened. As the door swung open on its own, a light appeared inside the room. Yron stepped into the doorway with Sartura following close behind. Yron was unable to see the room from where he stood because there was a wall blocking his view. He walked down a small hallway then a right turn took him into a large room. Again, on the walls, this time painted, were larger-than-life-sized images of the same man in the cathedral holding onto a staff, and in the background, was the same white tree.

On the other wall was a picture of the same man, but he was sitting down at a large octagon table with other men. There were many side conversations happening in the picture, but it was obvious the man with the staff oversaw the meeting. In the picture, a woman was standing next to a door clutching something hanging from her neck. Yron wiped the picture with his sleeve to remove the dust so he could see better. Around the woman's neck hung a necklace with the symbol on it; the same symbol that was on the door and at the Wizard's Guild.

Taking a rag, Yron dusted the rest of the picture off. It was the ring on the finger of the woman's hand that next caught Yron's attention. Quickly, he started to dust the rest of the picture starting with the woman wearing the necklace. Abruptly, Yron stopped in mid-stroke. He realized the reason the emblem seemed familiar was that he had seen it many times over the years, as well as the ring. However, the thing that had stopped Yron from dusting any further was the face of the woman. It was the woman he had seen in the lake's reflections and in his dreams.

It was late in the afternoon when Lord Kimberlee got his first view of Benflyn Dor. As they crested the small knoll, the entire column erupted in a cheer as word passed through the column that the ridge they were seeing was their destination. From that time forward, it seemed to Lord Kimberlee that the entire column walked and rode faster. Smiling, he could even hear the children singing; the stress of a people on the run seemed to have disappeared. That night as they camped, Lord Kimberlee looked around the group. Indeed, there was a welcomed joy and happiness amongst soldiers and civilians alike.

Throughout their journey, there had been an uneasy fear of being caught in the middle of the prairie by an enemy army. Lord Kimberlee had sent scouts ahead to announce their arrival, and by the time they broke camp in the morning, the scouts returned with promising news. They were only five or six hours away from the entrance of the plateau. The scout reports from the rearguard gave no reason for concern, so Lord Kimberlee instructed the camp to move forward. The wagons first ready to leave were given the okay to move out. Lord Kimberlee and the army would stay back and protect the handcarts and those who were walking.

Even the livestock seemed in a hurry to arrive at their destination. Lord Kimberlee sent messengers to give the livestock herders permission to head to Benflyn Dor at their own pace. Today, Lord Kimberlee would ride at the back of the column with his wife and the Queen. Even the weather seemed to be cooperating; the sun was out, covered by a thin cloud layer that kept the temperature about ten degrees cooler than it had been for days.

The army was protecting their rear flank, but he could hear laughter as the men joked and poked fun with each other. Scattered amongst the army, Lord Kimberlee could see the soldiers' children who had snuck back to be with their fathers. The happy families were walking and laughing with each other. It had been a long march, but it was almost over. As they passed one of the small streams, the children broke out rushing to the water's edge. Watching the children splashing and dancing in the water brought joy to Lord Kimberlee's heart.

Lord Kimberlee tied his horse to the back of the wagon his wife rode in, allowing him to drive the wagon. To his surprise, both the Queen and his wife jumped off the wagon and were playing in the water with their children. Watching his wife laugh, gave Lord Kimberlee hope that there were happier times ahead.

By noon, Lord Kimberlee could see the backlog of wagons, livestock, and people preparing to climb to the top of the plateau. Water that dripped from his wife's clothing when she first got into the wagon after playing in the stream continued to dry in the sunlight. He enjoyed having her sit next to him with her head on his shoulder, and her arms wrapped around his arm.

An hour later, Lord Kimberlee pulled in at the back of the line, tied the wagon reins around the brake, and climbed off the wagon. He knew one of his men would take the wagon the rest of the way. The Queen's wagon was just ahead of them, and behind them, were only a couple of wagons and a few handcarts. Most of the livestock was in the holding pens.

Ahead, Lord Kimberlee could see that the road up to the top of the plateau was filled with people, wagons, and cattle. Lord Myningar was directing the people into the entrance, and the members of his army were being reunited with their families. On top of the plateau, Lord Kimberlee saw King Timon standing and waving while the Queen was blowing kisses from below.

Lord Kimberlee climbed onto the back of the wagon. They are safe. They are safe. Finally, they are safe, he thought.

They had traveled all night, and when the morning sunrays broke over the forest, Benflyn Dor lay just ahead. About five hundred yards to the west, Darmuth could see a trail that led directly toward their destination. Darmuth led his men to the trail leading to Tamar Wayne, and then the road that took them to Benflyn Dor. It took only a few minutes of riding on the trail before one of the riders to his right broke out galloping toward their journey's end. A few seconds later it was a race to the plateau.

By noon, they were close enough to the plateau that Darmuth could see dust clouds rising before what appeared to be the entrance. "They are under attack," Darmuth shouted. He ordered his scouts to ride ahead and return with a report so that he would know where his men should attack. In the meantime, Darmuth ordered his men to dismount and get into their battle gear. As each man helped others get ready, Darmuth was surprised how quickly the men got their armor on and weapons ready.

Once they were dressed, Darmuth pressed his horse hard, as he and his men raced toward the plateau. It took two hours for his scouts to intercept them; their report brought great relief. The dust was not from an attack but rather from wagons, livestock, and people who had just arrived from Yemenor and were milling around.

After hearing the good news, Darmuth knew there was no hurry to get to the entrance of the plateau. Regardless of when they arrived, they would need to wait their turn. Off to the east, Darmuth saw another dust cloud heading toward the plateau entrance. Waiting in line was not something Darmuth did well, so he encouraged his men to pick up the pace so that they would at least get to the plateau before the next group of people arrived.

Darmuth soon realized that he had underestimated the distance to the plateau; it took an hour longer than he expected to arrive at Tamar Wayne. Lord Myningar was waiting for him and warmly greeted Darmuth when he arrived in the camp. It had been a long time since the men had been together. Lord Myningar had been Darmuth's trainer, and Darmuth had learned a lot about sword fighting from the great master. Meanwhile, Darmuth's men dismounted from their horses, and before long, they were lost in the jungle of people celebrating.

Above, Darmuth could see his father waving. That is so unlike Father, he thought. As he looked to where his father was waving, everything became clear when he saw his mother standing on the wagon bench blowing kisses to the King. From an early age, Darmuth knew his parents adored each other. They weren't like the other royalty Darmuth had met. Even as a child, Darmuth could tell that his parents were truly in love.

While his parents' marriage had been a political alliance, as most royal marriages were, it was unlike many other royal marriages because they were in love. Darmuth started to head toward his mother, but as he turned to greet her, he decided to warn Lord Myningar of the other group of people he saw that were on their way to Benflyn Dor since he would need to prepare to receive them in three or four hours.

Hearing the message about another advancing group wasn't news that Lord Myningar expected. Sounding an alarm, Lord Myningar immediately sent scouts out to identify the approaching people. From the top of the plateau, another alarm sounded. Within moments, the entire army seemed to be on alert. The laughter stopped, and people were starting to panic. Before long, the road to the top of the plateau was overcrowded, which caused everything on the road to slow down.

To the east, a wagon was riding hard toward the camp. As the wagon got close enough, Darmuth could see a giant hawk bound and lying in the back. Once the wagon arrived at the entrance of the plateau, the guards made a path to allow the wagon to take the next position in line for the road leading to the top of the plateau.

As Darmuth approached Lord Myningar, he could tell this was not a good time to question his mentor about what was going on. Lord Myningar stood barking out orders, and his officers were leaving as soon as they heard their commands. All around the camp, Lord Myningar's army was lining up in formation and building defensive lines.

Darmuth had heard enough. Lord Myningar believed the approaching dust cloud was an army that was preparing to attack Benflyn Dor. Apparently, they had gotten this information from some women they had captured, but no one had expected the attacking army to be so close.

Above, Darmuth could see his father issuing orders as well. As Lord Og's men got control of the entrance to the road leading to the top of the plateau, the people on the road to the top of the cliff were now moving a lot faster. There was an urgency in the camp, which had just moments before was a place of celebration. People were screaming, and children were running to find their parents.

Tamar Wayne was quickly becoming total chaos. People were running back and forth, and others were attempting to push their way to the front of the line to get on the road. From Darmuth's perspective, even if everyone settled down, it would take forever for all the people of Yemenor to get to the top of the plateau.

The army would need to provide enough defenses so their people could get to the top of the plateau safely. Lord Myningar grabbed Darmuth by the arm, "Get to the top of the plateau, now!" he ordered. "Your father does not need to lose his last son."

Lord Myningar's move surprised Darmuth, and for a few seconds, he almost followed Lord Myningar's instructions. "No," Darmuth replied. "Tell me where you want my men positioned."

This time, it was Lord Myningar who was caught with nothing to say. He quickly shook his surprise away. "Hide your men just inside the entrance," Lord Myningar ordered. "I will tell you when we need a cavalry charge."

"They are not cavalry. They are archers. We just rode here on horseback," Darmuth replied.

"Good, bring them to the front, and have them prepare to attack the approaching army," Lord Myningar responded. "Make sure they leave enough space between them so that the soldiers can get through and attack once the enemy forces get close enough that the arrows will no longer be effective. After the soldiers pass through, stand behind the troops and keep firing arrows behind the line of engagement into the enemy soldiers waiting to get to the front lines."

Darmuth immediately left to get his men prepared for the battle ahead. The horses were corralled, bowstrings set, and arrows prepared for rapid firing. Lord Myningar intended to allow the enemy army to attack them. He wanted to hold a strong defensive position, protected on the side and rear flank by the plateau cliffs.

The reports from the plateau were that the oncoming forces were a few thousand men, and because of the speed of their movement, they were on horseback. Fortunately, this wouldn't be a great threat.

Lord Myningar grabbed one of his messengers, "Tell Lord Og to prepare the catapults."

As they prepared to camp for the night, Yron told his traveling companions that he wanted to go back and have one more look at the cathedral he had explored earlier in the day. Yron expected to take Brelyah with him, but she was busy preparing their supper.

"Since you are responsible for keeping an eye on me, why don't I go with you?" Sartura volunteered.

"Oh no, I will go with him," Brelyah urged as she stopped what she was doing. "After all, I am his assistant."

Looking between the two women, Yron could feel his face and neck flush. The longer it took for him to come up with an answer, the warmer and more flushed he became.

The King's chief guard that saved the day for Yron, "We don't need three of you going, and since the King ordered Yron to be Sartura's protector, she will go with him. The rest of us will stay and set up camp."

No one protested, and Yron headed for the door. As Yron walked past the chief guard, he stepped into Yron's way and bumped him slightly off balance. Yron looked into his face, and the guard smiled then winked. The guard knew he had helped Yron out of a tough situation. Yron smiled back and grabbed his right arm at the elbow, as he passed by him to express his appreciation.

As Yron and Sartura left for the cathedral, Yron glanced back. As soon as he did, he knew it was a mistake. As his eyes met Brelyah's, there was no doubt in his mind she was angry. Yron had seen that look before.

There was no time to ponder the situation with Brelyah, however, because as soon as they left the group, Sartura immediately questioned him about the reason he wanted to go back to the old cathedral. She wanted to know if he was going back to see if there was a door hidden in the woodwork where the symbol marked the door in the tunnel section. "I saw the symbol on the necklace in the picture too," Sartura concluded.

"I didn't know how or when you were going back to the cathedral, but I knew it would be tonight. Wizard, you are wise beyond your years, and you are more observant than anyone I have ever met," Sartura continued.

"Maiggii," Yron corrected. "Princess, the same goes for you. Without me saying a word, you saw the same things."

"You are wrong about me," Sartura replied.

"Why is it that when I saw the correlation, I have wisdom and I am observant, but when you do the same thing, you don't?" Yron chided

"It is because I have seen that woman before. Her picture was hung above the mantel at the Oracle's house, and for the last few weeks, I have seen her image several times – sometimes as a reflection in the water and other times in my dreams," Sartura continued.

Yron walked in silence. He didn't know if he should make the same confession or if it was best to keep his story to himself.

"We are here," Sartura announced, jarring him from his thoughts.

Whether or not Yron shared his story, didn't matter now. They had arrived at the cathedral, and before Yron could stop her, Sartura ran inside. Yron followed quickly. There, in front of the woodwork, Sartura stood attempting to find a lever to open the door. Yron stood back and watched the Princess. After a few minutes, she turned to him and said, "Perhaps you can find the lever."

Yron stepped up to the door. First, he rubbed the emblem then noticed the flat piece of wood. This time it was in a different place from the emblem. Rubbing the wood with the inscription, once again Yron felt the tingling, and the door opened.

Before the door had opened completely, the room lit up, and the light from the room flooded the cathedral. Taking advantage of the distraction, Sartura charged into the room leaving Yron to follow her.

The room was larger than the entire cathedral extending below the ground level, and from Yron's memory, it must have encompassed the entire rear courtyard, perhaps more. To his right, was a stairwell. When Yron looked over the railing, he saw that the stairs extended down several more floors and then vanished from view. Looking down, Yron found a pebble lying on the floor. With his foot, Yron pushed the pebble over the edge. It took several seconds before he heard it bounce on the floor far below.

No sooner had the stone bounced on the floor, then the floor where the pebble landed lit up, casting a light up the stairwell. Yron counted the stairwell as nine floors deep. From where he stood, he could see shelves along the edge of the stairwell stacked with books and scrolls. This was another library, but this one was so much bigger. Even the first floor was larger than the library near the entrance of the plateau. This library extended to the bottom floor and was at least four or five times larger than the Grand Wizards' library.

The ceiling held a giant painting of a garden with a white tree in the center. The man with the staff was kneeling before the woman with the necklace that Yron had seen in other pictures. She was holding the flat part of a sword on his head, like she was knighting him. Both were smiling. Yron was focused on the woman's face when Sartura asked, "Why do you think the garden has large fences and rod iron gates?"

Sartura's question caused Yron to look beyond the images of the woman and man for the first time. The picture had the central figures so bright that it was not until Yron focused on the people outside the garden that he saw they were easily visible. Outside the garden and its fences, were people going on with their daily lives seemingly unaware of the garden. Off in the distance on a faraway hill, stood another tree. This one was black and seemed to absorb the light from around it.

Looking further, Yron couldn't tell if the tree was black or if the shadows made it appear that way. He wanted to spend more time viewing the mural on the ceiling, but Sartura was heading down the stairs, and Yron knew he had to follow her. Each time they reached one of the floors, the space was illuminated. This happened at each floor until they reached the bottom, which had been lit by the pebble Yron had pushed over the edge.

It would take several lifetimes to explore this library, Yron thought, but there was something reaching deep inside him prompting him to search the level and find it. He knew there was something there, he could feel it. It was almost like he could touch it, but he had no clue what it was or where to look for it.

The bottom floor was filled with artifacts and other items. Sartura had reached the floor first and was standing near a glass container in the center of the room. Inside the glass case, was the staff that had been held by the man in the pictures. Yron walked around the glass container and then reached to touch the edge of the glass case.

Blinking his eyes, Yron could see Sartura's face but it was very blurry and seemingly hovering above him. He could see her smiling and her mouth was moving, but he couldn't hear a thing. He couldn't feel anything except the burning in his right hand. Sartura's hand was wiping his face, but he felt nothing. He was unable to move, and his muscles refused to respond to any effort to move. Again, Sartura's mouth was moving, and he could recognize some of the words she was saying, but it wasn't because he could hear her. Instead, he was reading her lips.

His hand was on fire and though he tried to scream and pull it away, Yron was unable to do anything to relieve the pain. Confused, Yron couldn't understand why Sartura would be smiling at him and not doing anything about his hand. Suddenly, Yron realized he was lying on the floor. He had to be – that was the only thing that could explain why she was looking down on him. But how did I get on the floor? Thoughts and questions raced through Yron's mind. Slowly, his body began to erupt in pain. He hurt everywhere.

Wait! His head was in her lap. What... why... nothing made sense. Yron could hear Sartura whispering, but he could barely hear her words. "You will be okay."

What the heck, of course I will be okay, he thought. Yron tried to respond to Sartura, but although his mind was willing to talk, his mouth just didn't seem to want to cooperate.

A flash, he could remember a flash. With each moment, Sartura's voice became louder and the pain more intense. After a time, Yron found a way to move his hands and arms, then eventually his legs. Being able to talk seemed to be the last ability that returned to him. Once Sartura had gotten Yron's attention and he was willing and able to listen to her, she explained to him that when he touched the glass case that held the staff, a flash from the ceiling struck him.

Sartura explained that for a while she thought he was dead; she was unable to see that he was breathing. The skin all over his body except where the blue shirt covered was severely burned, and she had given up hope that he would survive the attack when she finally saw him take a breath.

After Yron was finally able to sit up and to talk with Sartura, she began to answer his questions. She explained that shortly after he was struck by the flash from the ceiling, he started chanting. The chanting was in a language she had never heard, but she figured he had chanted a spell of healing which saved his life. It was after chanting that he stopped breathing for a while, but during that time, she could see his burns start to heal. Once he had taken a breath, she was able to hold his head in her lap until he was able to sit up on his own.

When he felt well enough to stand, Yron climbed to his feet looking at the glass case suspiciously. Staying far away from it, Yron walked over to a book sitting on a stand near the entrance to the bottom floor. After slipping the book in his pack, he muttered to himself, "I need to come back here. There is still something that I must do, but this isn't the time."

"You are not coming back here alone," Sartura announced. "If you come back, promise me that you will bring me with you." Yron nodded his acquiescence; there was no use arguing with her.

By the time Yron and Sartura returned to camp, it was almost midnight. They had been gone for over four hours. Sartura and Yron agreed not talk about what had happened; about finding the library and the incident with the flash.

Back at camp, Sartura found a place close enough to Yron so she could monitor him while he slept, but far enough away so as not to draw suspicions about the two of them. Brelyah put her bedroll next to Sartura, and the two of them talked late into the night.

Yron waited for everyone to fall asleep, then looking around, he opened his pack and pulled out the blue pants. It only took him a minute to put them on under his regular pants. Glancing around, Yron was sure no one had seen him change. No one had seen except Sartura – who planned to ask Yron about those pants when she got her next chance.

It was midway through the day, the scouts from the west rode into the castle entrance. Raaj was surprised to see them since they arrived earlier than he expected. "They are on the march," the scouts reported. "Large black animals with scales are pulling giant skids. There are hundreds of them," the scouts continued.

"How far away are they?" Raaj asked.

"They are moving really slow. We should see them within a couple of days," the scout responded.

As Raaj stood on the western side of the castle looking for the approaching armies with his Familiar circling overhead, he wondered what type of animals the Shakarine were using to pull their cargo. They didn't sound like anything he was accustomed to.

It didn't take long for Raaj to see the oncoming army marching in formation directly toward the castle. Behind them, the skids were being pulled by giant black animals, just as the scouts had reported. The men controlling the animals sat on their shoulders. They had something that appeared to be attached inside the ears of the animals to control them. When the animal would attempt to turn off the assigned course, the man riding on its back would yank on the reins. The animal would scream in agony and then immediately respond to the directions the rider had given.

Within an hour from the report of the scouts from the west, the scouts from the east returned to the castle with the same report; the armies of Shakarine were preparing to attack from the east as well. This is it, thought Raaj. Tonight is the night. At least the wait is over. Raaj signaled the scouts to the south with a flare, calling them back. Two hours later, the southern scouts were riding into the gates of the castle.

"Take the horses, you will be riding down to the escape tunnel," Raaj directed. He moved to the top tower where he could see that the rest of the men had positioned themselves at their assigned stations. From there, he would be able to use Abinya to see what was happening on the battlefield as well as cast his Illusions spells to prolong the fighting at the castle.

Off to his left in the trees to the east, Raaj could see the crows starting to get restless. There was no indication of troop movement on the prairie, though. Raaj smiled, knowing the surprise that awaited the men who were sneaking through the forest. It was getting close to nightfall, and Raaj expected the armies would wait until the morning to attack. Off in the distance, Raaj could see the armies to the east and west in formation.

They weren't moving any closer to the castle; they had stopped for the night. The armies from the south had yet to arrive on the battlefield, and Raaj had no reason to believe they wouldn't be waiting for their orders to charge at first light tomorrow. This was it. Raaj held a quick meeting with the men of the castle. As explained the situation, they were not there to die; they were there to stall the armies of the Shakarine and Warteen one extra day.

Once they had executed their little surprises they had for the approaching armies, they would gather on the ground level, unlock the front gate, and race to the escape tunnel. There, they would wait until it was dark to leave the tunnel and head for Benflyn Dor.

No one slept. Everyone manned his post throughout the night. In the morning, Raaj got his first good look at the animals towing the skids. He didn't want to believe it, but the scales and scar tissue gave no alternative. These were the fierce black dragons from the Werkier Lands. Their wings removed and tails cut short. They were being forced to act as beasts of burden for the Shakarine.

Raaj was stunned; the treaty signed thousands of years ago was broken. That day, dragons and man agreed that hunting each other made no further sense. The dragons had begun to perfect their ability to use magic, and man had discovered weaponry that could more easily kill the dragons – especially when they were in flight. It took years to sign an agreement. It was a treaty of necessity; it saved the two races from extinction.

How did the Shakarine capture so many of the dragons? Raaj wondered. This would be something Raaj would need to figure out, but now, the enemy was on the attack.

Raaj was worried when he could see no army from the south. His feared that his scouting report had been wrong, and the Warteen had spotted the trail of the Yemenor's citizenry and were even now attacking them.

Raaj's thoughts were interrupted when, to the west, the trumpets sounded signaling a charging army. It was obvious from the movement of the birds in the trees next to the castle that the Shakarine from the east had done exactly what Darmuth had warned. Raaj signaled the archers on the west of the castle, and they began shooting fire arrows toward the bags of oil that had been tied in the trees.

Within minutes, the entire forest was ablaze. Fire began to drop to the ground, and the Shakarine that were within the tree line started to run from the forest. As they did, the Yemenite archers fired on them. Men who fell to the ground wounded didn't escape the fire as it raced across the prairie.

As the men from the forest started to run away from the burning trees, they lined up in formation preparing to attack the castle walls. But as they charging across the prairie and carrying their ladders so they could scale the walls, the Shakarine were greeted with another attack from the archers. Many of these arrows were fire tipped used to light the trenches that were filled with tar on fire. The tar trenches and the fire in the trees above stopped the charging armies from the east.

Right after the charge was ordered for the men of the east, the men of the west received their order to charge. As on the east, the oil trenches of the west did their job. The smoke and fire made a mess of the battlefield, and before the Shakarine could reassemble for another charge, Raaj and his men had left the castle. They rode through the escape tunnel waiting for the cover of darkness so that they could follow the escape route used by Darmuth.

When they cleared the tunnel entrance and hid in the woods waiting for their chance to escape, Raaj observed and found great joy in the fact that both armies had stalled and were waiting for the next day to continue their attack. It appeared to Raaj that they were going to wait for the tar trenches to burn out before resuming.

An hour after dusk, Raaj and his small band of archers escaped from the tunnel entrance and headed east along the tree line. Raaj rode behind the escaping archers. While he could clearly see the trail left behind by Darmuth, the Payleen horses that Raaj and his men were using left no noticeable trail to track. Raaj didn't like leaving the castle to fall into enemy hands; however, leaving the castle with two armies preparing to attack an empty city by charging its walls made him smile. That and the hundreds of dead soldiers whose bodies were scattered over the battlefield and in the still burning forest, provided some comfort.

# Chapter 46

The scouting report indicated that the approaching army from the east had stopped for the night.

Shaking his head, he thought, It was foolishness for Lord Og to have spent the better part of the day transporting livestock onto Benflyn Dor. Lord Myningar replayed in his mind Lord Og's explanation of why it would take two or three more days to transport the Yemenite supplies brought from the castle up the road and onto the plateau. Soon his army would be under attack, and they couldn't use the natural defense of the plateau if they got in trouble. They would have to make a stand on the floor of the prairie at Tamar Wayne.

The more he thought about it; the more Myningar found wisdom in Lord Og's decision. Indeed, it had been a great relief logistically regarding the animals. Now the animal waste management, coupled with food and water, would no longer be something that his men would have to deal with; the livestock on the plateau could graze in the southern portion of the available grassland. Furthermore, they could now drink from the livestock wells that Captain Ranthod's people had repaired without a drain on his army to guard them.

The wagons and their supplies were all staged and moving up the road to the plateau. Lord Myningar understood that moving the wagons and supplies to the top of the plateau would take all the next day. Two of the lifts were available to move the wounded onto the plateau and deliver any supplies the army might need. Earlier in the day, the lifts had been used to move anyone in the army that had any catapult experience along with most of the archers to the top of the plateau. While it made good sense for the archers to be as high as possible so their arrows would travel farther, he was relieved that he wouldn't have to worry about Prince Darmuth.

By nightfall, Lord Og had cleared the road to the plateau of all wagons. This allowed the remaining Yemenites to climb the road up to the plateau. Wagons were stationed at the top to carry the people away from the entrance to where their temporary city would be built.

Lord Myningar listened to the Yemenites climb the road as he tried to sleep. When he could hear no other activity on the road, he fell asleep thinking of all the things he would have to do the next day. The kitchen unit was finally set up, he could feed his men, and with the livestock gone, there were corrals for the horses. Men had been lifted to the plateau to operate the catapults. Now with the new archers that were lifted onto the plateau, including those Darmuth had brought, they would be able to defend both sides of the entrance of Tamar Wayne from the top of the plateau.

Lord Myningar hadn't been asleep more than a couple of hours when he was awakened by the sounds of horse hooves hitting the ground and stopping hard. It was the scouts returning from the west to report that an army of thirty thousand soldiers was approaching. The army, consisting mainly of foot soldiers with a large contingency of archers, was a day's ride out. The scout reported that the enemy army was on a forced march.

Lord Myningar decided to wait until morning to sound the alarm, but he immediately sent a messenger to King Timon and Lord Og – their plans needed to change. As expected, the King sent a message to Lord Myningar demanding a War Council meeting on the prairie floor.

By the time Lord Og arrived at the base of the entrance to the plateau, torches were lit, and preparations were being made for the men to hitch up the wagons to the oxen that would pull the wagons to the top of the plateau. With Lord Og's permission, they would start to take the wagons up the cliff by torchlight. Perhaps if they worked through the night, they could move enough wagons to create a way to move the Yemenite citizens' supplies to the top of the plateau before the attacking army arrived.

Lord Og agreed with everything Lord Myningar was doing and sent messages to his men on the top of the plateau to prepare to man the wagons when they arrived and to find a place to park the wagons out of the way so there wouldn't be a bottleneck. The wagons needed to be sorted when they arrived at the top. Supplies were to go to one area, tents and gear for the citizens to live into another area, and tools and building supplies were to go a third location.

By the time the King arrived, the two Lords were trying to find a way for Lord Og to get all the remaining citizens and their belongings onto the plateau before the enemy troops arrived. As the two men explained to King Timon what they were faced with, the general agreement was that their armies would protect the citizens who were not able to get to the top before the attacking army arrived.

King Timon would return to the top of the plateau and gather all the men that weren't being used to bring the people and supplies to the top of the plateau, then stage them at the top of the road. Once the road was cleared of wagons, the men would be able to march down the road and join the rest of the men stationed to defend the entrance to the plateau. King Timon would need to talk to Cerdon; they would need his soldiers to help in the defense.

Something was wrong – Yron awoke with a start. He looked around the camp and found Sartura was sitting up as well. "We need to get back," both said in unison. Standing up, Yron announced that they were going to break camp and head back toward the main camp on the plateau. The tone of Yron's voice said everything, and no one protested.

Looking around, Yron singled out two of the guards and ordered, "You two pack up camp and take the horses back to the main base. We are going to take the tunnels." He told the rest to take what they needed, including their armor and fighting gear.

Sartura stood and started to prepare. When she saw that the rest of the group wasn't moving fast enough, she followed up on what Yron had said. "We need to be prepared for battle when we arrive," she ordered.

Brelyah was about to protest the sudden urgency to move out when she, too, got a feeling deep inside her that urged her to get moving. After searching around in her pack, she pulled out a set of chainmail, a helmet, a small shield, and a sword. As she drew the sword from its sheaf, she demonstrated experience with how she moved the sword and then re-sheathed it. Yron watched Brelyah. He knew there was no way those things could have fit in that pack. She had a Bag of Holding, a magical pack that allowed the user to store larger items than would normally fit in a bag of similar size.

These magic bags were expensive and hard to obtain. How in the world was Brelyah able to afford a Bag of Holding? Or... who gave it to her? Yron wondered. He recalled Brelyah had asked him how he was able to stuff so much in his bag. Clearly, she had known and had only been pretending not to understand. Yron shook his head; there was no time to attempt to understand what game Brelyah was playing. They needed to be heading back to the main camp. "Let's go," he ordered.

With that, Yron headed down through the passages that lead to the tunnels. He grabbed Sartura by the arm and expected everyone to follow. The tunnels were dark and devoid of light, so Yron stopped long enough to place a Light spell on everyone's arms. Upon finishing, he turned to the party and told them to keep up with him and stay together.

After everyone nodded their understanding, Yron started down the tunnel then headed east until they encountered a rock wall. From the back, one of the guards questioned what they should do now that they were facing a dead end. Brelyah quickly offered a statement of support for Yron saying that he knew what he was doing, but before she could finish, Yron placed his hand on a smooth part of the wall and chanted, "Ernst Adrop Obnesk." Without hesitation, Yron started to step into the rock wall. On his second step, part of his body entered the wall, and within a second, Yron was completely through the wall followed by Sartura.

The next one through was Brelyah, trailed by the rest of the group. Each person who stepped through the wall felt like someone had pulled a rug out from under their feet, landing them in a completely different tunnel. Ahead of the group, Yron and Sartura were already jogging down the tunnel. Brelyah and one of the other guards were beginning to follow Yron, but all the other guards were piled in a heap on the floor next to the rock wall.

Brelyah encouraged them to get up and keep up, but she was distracted by feelings of claustrophobia in the confined space of the tunnel. Being underground wasn't something she had experienced much in her life. Looking ahead to where Yron and Sartura had gone, she was still able to see the light, but the pair was out of sight.

Suddenly, the tunnel took a downward track. Turning to the others, she said, "We need to catch up with Yron, keep up!" There was something in Yron's urgency that Brelyah began to feel as well.

Brelyah and several of the guards turned and started to run down the tunnel in the direction Yron had gone. It didn't take long for Brelyah to catch up to Yron, who had stopped in front of another rock wall. "Where are the others?" he inquired.

"They are on their way," she replied. Just as Brelyah spoke, they could hear the screaming of men being attacked down the tunnel from where they had just come. Yron turned and ran back up the tunnel with Brelyah and Sartura right on his heels. As the trio reached the top of the slope, they found the bodies of five of the guards who had fallen behind strewn across the floor of the tunnel. Standing over one of the men was a fifteen-foot tall creature with a body that seemed to be carved from rock. It was standing on two legs, screaming down at the dying guard. The creature was holding no weapon, but the tips of its fingers were sharpened like claws and covered with blood.

Looking up, the creature saw Yron watching and turned to attack. As it began the charge, Brelyah and Sartura stepped out from behind Yron drawing their swords, as they stood at the Maiggii's side. Their arrival, complete with swords, caused the creature to stop its charge. As it melted through the wall and disappeared, Yron heard it mutter in a gravelly voice, "They are not supposed to be here. They left long ago."

"A rock elemental," Brelyah whispered in awe.

Yron glanced at Brelyah in confusion. How did she know this? he wondered.

Before he could ask, she continued, "I once read about them. They only exist this close to the surface if they have been forced. Their kingdom is far underground."

Blood seeped down the wall through which the rock elemental had retreated. From where Yron was standing, he could see three other places where similar blood patterns were running down the wall.

"We have to go," Yron announced breaking the silence. He didn't want to have to deal with more than one of the creatures.

As they turned to head back down the tunnel, the rest of their party greeted them. "Where are the others?" the guard inquired.

"They will not be returning with us," Sartura said flatly.

Yron ran back toward the farthest dead end in the tunnel. Kneeling and opening his pack, he removed the remaining armor and shield that he had found on the dead soldier in the cavern with the white tree. "Be prepared to fight," he warned the others.

When Brelyah saw the white tree crest on the shield Yron was holding, she asked, "Where did you get that shield?"

Yron was taken aback by her question, "What does it matter?" he replied.

"It matters a great deal," she stated seriously.

Lord Myningar was standing on one of the wagons looking across the prairie to the east. From this vantage point, he watched for any sign of his scout patrols. He had expected the returning scouts to provide an update on the approaching enemy troop movement an hour ago. As the sun broke over the trees, Lord Myningar had to place his hand over his eyes for shade against the morning glare of the sun.

The day before, his men had cut the grass back two hundred yards from all three sides of the camp. The project had taken most of the day, but it had provided visibility that would allow the archers to successfully blunt an initial charge of enemy troops. From where he was standing, he could see where the rocks and stumps the catapults had fired to set their range. While the men weren't excited about retrieving the catapult ammunition and it on the lifts to be returned to the top of the plateau, Lord Myningar thought it was important that the enemy not know they had catapults nor their range.

Despite the preparations for war, it was a perfect morning. The wind was blowing directly east, and the sunlight was warm. Once the scouts returned, Lord Myningar would light the grass on fire, allowing the wind to push the fire across the prairie to the east. The prairie grass would then be nothing but stubble, and the approaching enemy forces wouldn't be able to use the grass as a visual barricade while approaching their position.

It would be difficult for the returning scouts to ride back to camp with the smoke blowing into their eyes, but Lord Myningar couldn't wait any longer to start the grassfire. He ordered his men to drive the wagons carrying the barrels of oil along the leading edge of their position and spread the oil on the grass. Once the oil was spread, he would light it on fire and hope the wind would do the rest.

The oiling operations were going as planned; he could see they were almost half-way done. He knew that once the fire was started, he would have a sight line advantage over approaching armies from the east. If they were fortunate, the fire would burn for miles, but Lord Myningar would be happy if it burned only half a mile. Even if he could get five hundred to seven hundred and fifty yards, it would give his archers plenty of time and space to pick off the enemy as they charged the entrance. Also, any army approaching from the east would be partially blinded by the smoke from the grass fire.

The farthest wagon had spread the oil about four hundred yards out when an arrow struck the driver of the wagon. Only a second after he had fallen forward, the soldier in the back of the wagon joined him on the ground with two arrows protruding from his chest. Seconds later, Lord Myningar could hear the charging cries of the enemy forces.

The trumpet sounded notifying his troops to prepare to defend the camp catching many by surprise. Leaving some men scrambling to line up in a defensive formation on the eastern side of the camp. Fortunately, Lord Myningar's archers were alert, and their arrows stopped many of the attacking forces, as they cleared the tall grass successfully repelling the initial attack of enemy troops.

The enemy soldiers that made it through the archer's attack were stopped by a wall of soldiers who were assembled in time to repulse the attack. The battle lasted only fifteen to twenty minutes before an enemy trumpet sounded for a retreat.

As the enemy retreated, Lord Myningar ordered the archers to use their fire arrows to light the grass on fire. It didn't take long for the wind start driving the fire across the prairie. From where he was standing, the burning of the grass was working better than he had expected. Satisfied, Lord Myningar jumped from his vantage point atop the command wagon and began preparing the troops for the next attack.

As he started to issue new orders, Lord Myningar heard a lightning strike. Turning to see what had happened, he realized the prairie fire was out, and the enemy forces were charging their position again. The archers from the top of the plateau immediately began to fire on the charging troops. By the time the enemy force met Lord Myningar's foot soldiers, a little over a quarter of their troops had been killed or wounded. Above, the archers on the cliff began firing on the troops that were bunched up behind the attack line.

Lord Myningar was certain that even without additional reinforcements, the men he had fighting would be enough to repulse this attack, but it was the lightning strike that put out the fire bothered him. He had read about this in history books that talked about the Shadow Wars. His blood turned cold, as he realized the enemy had a Warrior Wizard. He didn't, and unless they could find and kill the Shakarine army's Warrior Wizard, they wouldn't last.

Lord Myningar was issuing orders and preparing his men to defend the eastern side of the plateau entrance when he heard the thunder of hooves racing across the plain from the west. Lord Myningar could see that one of the scouts who had been watching the western front of the central prairie was racing into camp. As the horse suddenly stopped just outside the front line, Lord Myningar saw the scout fall from his horse with arrows jutting from his back. Lord Myningar ran to the scout's side. The man's message caused Lord Myningar to cringe. "We are under attack from the west," he said.

"Get a Healer!" Lord Myningar ordered. "Sound the trumpet! We are under attack from the west!"

Seconds later, another trumpet was sounding for an emergency War Council meeting. Less than half of the people from Yemenor were still stranded on the prairie floor. The road was filled with wagons and people were racing to reach the plateau top.

The enemy must still be a way off, Lord Myningar thought, because the outposts on the plateau had not sounded warning of an approaching army.

Before the men could assemble for the War Council, the Shakarine launched another attack from the east. By the time Lord Myningar arrived on the eastern flank, his archers were fully engaged in firing upon the attacking forces. Lord Myningar's foot soldiers were prepared, and lancers were standing behind them ready for the charging cavalry or to provide extra defense for the foot soldiers if the enemy forces were to recklessly charge the front line.

It was another mini attack. Several hundred men lay wounded or dead at the hands of the archers, but this charge never made it to the foot soldiers before it was called off. As the Shakarine fell back, Lord Myningar's men started to chase after them. Before they could truly advance, trumpets sounded, and his men stopped their charge. Discipline, experience, and training were the hallmarks of Lord Myningar's troops.

The Shakarine were baiting Lord Myningar's men attempting to get them to chase after them when they retreated. As Lord Myningar headed to meet with his War Council, Darmuth intercepted him. "Why didn't you let us pursue those troops?" he demanded.

"We don't have time for this. It does not matter that you are the King's son, you need to follow orders or leave this field of battle," Lord Myningar replied angrily.

Darmuth was furious. The thought that this old man was too afraid to chase the retreating enemy forces was nothing like his brother would have commanded. Darmuth's eyes glared at Lord Myningar's back, as the older man left to meet with his War Council near the base of the cliffs. "You are wrong and impossible," Darmuth muttered under his breath.

"We have no choice; we must provide enough time for our people from Yemenor to safely reach the top of the plateau," Lord Myningar stated to the Council. "Second, we must defend the entrance to the plateau from two attacking armies. One last thing, it is apparent the Shakarine army to the east has a Warrior Wizard."

The room was silent. Lord Myningar could see the same fear in their eyes that he felt in his own heart. All his life, Lord Myningar had heard stories of the Shadow Wars where the Warrior Wizards commanded the battlefields.

The silence was only broken when one of the King's guards entered the room and announced, "King Timon will be arriving from the top of the plateau soon. He has requested everyone's presence."

Lord Myningar continued to roll out the map of the area on the main table.

As the King entered the tent, Lord Myningar gave his report. He described the skirmishes they had fought with the Shakarine so far, the information of an approaching army from the west, and the ability of his army to defend against both of the attacking armies.

The next to report was Lord Og. Based on his calculations, it would still take another day to get the people and supplies to the top of the plateau, if they worked all night.

King Timon listened to all the reports. Cerdon agreed to provide five thousand additional soldiers. "We need to find a way to get Cerdon's army to the prairie floor without hindering our citizens' exodus," Lord Og said. "Ropes!" he ordered. "They can lower themselves to the valley floor by climbing down ropes. Their armor and weapons can be lowered by the lifts," Lord Og continued.

"We can do that," Cerdon said, as he nodded.

King Timon slapped him on his back, "Good, let's get on with it. Is there anything more that needs to be discussed?" the King asked. King Timon could tell from Lord Myningar's look that there was one more topic he wanted to cover, but it must be a private matter.

"The Warrior Wizard," one of Lord Myningar's men replied.

"A Warrior Wizard?" the King replied in horror.

"Yes, the Shakarine appear to have Warrior Wizard," Lord Myningar replied.

The room was silent. The King could see the fear in the men's countenances. Several men shuffled their feet, and even Lord Myningar wouldn't look up.

"Do we know where the wizard is?" the King inquired.

No one in the room answered.

"This isn't a new thing," the King said. "It may be new to us, but our ancestors fought Warrior Wizards on this very field and won." The King attempted to rally the War Council, "Marcuss, I want you on top of the plateau with our marksmen archers. Get as far to the northwest as you can get. No matter what the situation is down here, your archers do not expose themselves nor do they fire until you can fire on the that Warrior Wizard."

"Agusteen, make sure the catapults are firing as deep into the Shakarine as you can. I want scouts at each catapult. You need to expose the wizard. If you can do enough damage, he will turn his attack on you," the King continued. "Then, Agusteen, you work with Marcuss and coordinate an attack on the wizard once you have discovered where he or she is."

"If you find the wizard, and he or she is out of range from the plateau, notify Myningar immediately. We will need to execute an attack from the valley floor," the King commanded.

"Myningar, you continue to defend the entrance to the east and help defend the people trapped in the entrance. I will take charge of the men to the west." The King continued, "Cerdon, once you have your men on the valley floor armed, notify Lord Myningar. He will need your help protecting our people."

The King turned to leave. When he got to the door of the command center, he turned, "Myningar, Cerdon... I know I do not need to remind you, but your responsibility on the valley floor is not to win the battle this day but to protect the citizens of Yemenor. And once they are safe, you stay and protect the plateau."

As the King left the tent, Lord Myningar ran to catch up with him. "Your Majesty, I have two issues we need to address," he said.

The King turned toward Myningar, "And what might they be?" he asked.

"Your son, Darmuth, led five-hundred cavalry archers from the castle to the entrance of the plateau at Master Raajanaar's request. He believes he is in command of these men. He doesn't have the experience, and we need the archers to be archers and not cavalry," Lord Myningar continued.

"We do not have time for this!" King Timon seethed with anger, as he spoke through his teeth. For the thousandth time, he wished Prince Purstar hadn't fallen. "Send him to the plateau, and be done with this."

Lord Myningar didn't have time to respond or talk to the King about the Special Forces he had assembled to seek out and attack the Warrior Wizard before the King turned, mounted his horse, and rode off the western front with haste.

The trumpet sounded; they were under attack again. As Lord Myningar turned, he could see the Shakarine army charging over the burned grass. He wished he could get an order to the top of the plateau to command the catapults to fire to slow the charge.

It took only a few minutes before the armies were interlocked in hand-to-hand combat. Lord Myningar watched as the lift carrying Agusteen, Marcuss and Cerdon reached the top of the plateau. While he knew it would be a couple of hours before Cerdon's men could reach the valley floor to add to his army, he had high hopes that the catapults would start firing quickly and cause the attacking forces to withdraw or at least slow their attack.

Before Brelyah could follow up on the question, Yron picked up the Inset sword that had wounded Sartura's brother, adjusted his helmet, and charged into the rock wall. As Yron entered the rock, the others in the party could see what Yron had seen. Less than five hundred yards from the wall, two armies were fully engaged in battle.

Sartura was the second one through the wall, and when she stepped out onto the prairie floor, she was no more than five yards behind Yron. The armies were downhill from their position, and before Sartura could do anything more than drawing her sword, Yron shouted and charged the Shakarine. Out of his right hand, a flash of light burst and struck the flank of the enemy fighting against Lord Myningar's men.

By the time Sartura caught up with Yron, a second burst of light erupted from his hand. More of the enemy forces were lying on the ground wounded or dead. A Warrior Wizard in battle, Sartura thought. She had only heard stories about this. Two more bursts of light came from Yron's hand before he reached the flank of the men battling her father's forces. By this time, Yron's sword was out of its sheath, and he was fully engaged in combat against those who hadn't been killed by the blasts of light. Sartura stepped to Yron's right side with her sword drawn and began attacking the enemy forces.

It wasn't long before Brelyah had exited the tunnels and ran to Yron's left. Soon after, the guards added their numbers to the group's ranks. As they battled, each time Yron's sword arm was free, he cast a spell and another blast would erupt from his hand causing several hundred men to collapse in a burst of flames. But before Yron could get off another spell, the space in front of them would be filled with new warriors pressing a fresh attack.

Brelyah was dumbfounded that Yron could cast these spells. Not only did they require talent of considerable skill and extensive training that Raaj reiterated Yron didn't have, worse, they were outlawed spells and a clear violation of the agreement between humankind and the Wizards' Guild. Additionally, not only had Raaj's reports to the Grand Council about Yron's progress not included this level of magical ability and learning, he had personally never told her that his maiggii had been taught or even knew how to cast battle spells. Equally surprising, was Yron's swordsmanship; he was fighting with the level of a great warrior – she hadn't expected this from a maiggii.

Just as Brelyah was amazed by Yron's talent, so too, was the maiggii impressed by Sartura's expert use of a sword. She fought like an experienced warrior, although Yron couldn't imagine when she would have had the time and means for such practice. Still, she was a giver of death, delivering mortal blows at every turn while her beautiful black hair danced with her movements.

As the guards defended the flanks of Yron and the young Princess, they admired the combination of magic and excellent swordsmanship that was disrupting the attacking Shakarine. Soon, Brelyah stood back. This was not her battle, and she had only agreed to watch over young Yron. Still, she was surprised that the warriors' desire to fight alongside their comrades raged inside her too. It took all she had not to race back into battle and attack the enemy alongside Yron and the young Princess, but she of all people, couldn't go back on the treaty.

Just as Brelyah suppressed her internal desires, she could see the catapults overhead firing down upon the enemy troops. Initially, the great stumps and rocks flew overhead, bouncing on the ground, rolling and taking out giant swatches of the Shakarine soldiers. The second round of catapult attacks included barrels of flaming oil that hit the ground and burst into flames.

The attack from the catapults above caused great damage to the Shakarine army. From her vantage point, she could see that Myningar's men had stopped their charge. The attack from the catapults overhead was taking its toll, and the small force led by Yron had caused the Shakarine troops to slow their charge and turn some of their attack toward their flank.

To Brelyah, it appeared that the Shakarine weren't doing so well. Ahead, Yron released what appeared to be a lightning bolt that shot out from his hand. The aftermath of the spell revealed several hundred Shakarine lying motionless before him on the ground, and those who hadn't been affected by the spell turned and ran from the maiggii/wizard and his companions.

Brelyah was likely the only one who saw the initial flash of light racing across the prairie toward Yron. It happened so fast that she was unable to warn her companions before the bolt of light hit the maiggii squarely in his chest knocking him fifty feet back. Yron crumpled to the ground; he was on fire and lay in a heap behind Brelyah on the prairie floor. Yron had been hit by a death dart, a Dragon spell, a spell that was never to have been taught to men.

Brelyah had no choice; she needed to get the Princess and her guards out of there.

Agusteen saw the flash of light that raced across the prairie and hit one of the soldiers below. It was easy to see where the light came from because everything, even the grass, in the path of the bolt of light was dead.

The light originated from the far side of the Shakarine army, but the enemy's Warrior Wizard was too far away for the archers or catapults to reach. Still, Agusteen needed to report the whereabouts of the wizard to Lord Myningar.

With the Shakarine wizard so far away, Agusteen couldn't see a reason to prevent Marcuss from unleashing his archers on the plateau to attack the charging Shakarine. His orders were simple. Every third or fourth time the archers on the ground sent a volley of arrows into the Shakarine, Marcuss' men were to launch a volley of arrows as well. Because Marcuss' archers could hide in the foliage, Agusteen didn't think his archers on the plateau would be spotted.

The strategy worked well. The Shakarine shields that blocked the arrows of most of Lord Myningar's archers were held high and in front of them, creating a shield for the Shakarine warriors behind them. But when Marcuss' arrows hit the Shakarine's exposed flank, they caused multiple causalities. The flank attack from the archers on the plateau, caused the Shakarine to turn some of the shields to protect themselves from a flank attack. This allowed Lord Myningar's archers to penetrate the Shakarine defenses with more success than they had before.

When the initial volley of arrows from the plateau attacked the Shakarine, Lord Myningar was furious that Agusteen had disregarded his orders. From his vantage point, he could see that the Shakarine ranks to the south were reacting to something from the south. The soldiers were fleeing northward, and a portion of the troops had started to retreat to the east.

Just as he ordered another volley of arrows, Lord Myningar saw a flash of light. He looked overhead to see where the attack landed but was unable to determine the object of the lightning attack. His initial concern that his soldiers might have seen the flash of light and abandoned their duties was quickly dispelled as the fighting intensified.

It wasn't long before a messenger from the plateau confirmed what Lord Myningar had assumed. The wizard was on the northern side of the army and out of range of both the archers and the catapults.

Before him, Lord Myningar could see the Shakarine forces beginning to buckle. His army was ordered to stand their ground. Today, there would be no pursuit. Lord Myningar had his trumpeter sound the order not to pursue, just as a reminder.

There was much to be done before the Shakarine could organize another attack. Lord Myningar ordered the wounded to be carried to the Healer camp inside the main entrance to the plateau. He needed reports on causalities and supplies. If there was time and it was safe, he wanted the fetchers to go out onto the battlefield and collect as many arrows as they possibly could.

Meanwhile, Cerdon was assembling the first of his men on the valley floor. Lord Myningar was pleased with their arrival. He would have them relieve his men, giving them time to eat, sharpen their swords, and repair their armor and shields for the next attack.

As he headed back to the war room, Darmuth intercepted him. "Once again, you allowed the Shakarine to retreat in safety," Darmuth complained. "My cavalry was ready to pursue them and sack them as they ran back to their main camp," he continued.

"There is no time for questioning my decisions." Lord Myningar angrily retorted. "When I want a cavalry attack on retreating forces, I will order it. Until then, you wait." He wished he had time to force Darmuth to the plateau's summit, but the Shakarine had attacked before he could find the young Prince. Now that Darmuth had tasted battle, Lord Myningar could tell that an order of retreat to the top of the plateau from anyone but the King himself would be useless words.

Reaching for the door of the war room tent, Lord Myningar was relieved that Darmuth didn't follow him to press his argument further.

The bolt of light was so bright that the entire Shakarine army watched as it raced across the prairie and struck the wizard that was leading the attack on their flank. The Yemenite wizard was dead. With Yron burning in a heap on the ground, the Shakarine turned and charged Sartura and the remaining King's guards.

There was no time. Brelyah flipped back her hood as she cast a Prolong spell on Yron, then spread her arms around Sartura and the remaining guards. Closing her eyes so she wouldn't be distracted, Brelyah teleported the group to the safest place she could think of – the camp where she and Yron had spent the night before they arrived at the entrance of the plateau. This would place them far enough behind the battle lines to be safe.

As soon as Brelyah cast the Teleport spell, she knew she should have taken them to the camp on top of the plateau, but it was too late now. As the Teleport spell engaged, Brelyah opened her eyes and watched the Shakarine wizard's second Dragon Dart spell crash into the ground where only moments ago the Princess and her guards had been standing.

Brelyah used the safer Teleport spell, which allowed her to see what was happening around them as they traveled from one place to another. The ability to see the surrounding area while teleporting had been added to the Teleport spells hundreds of years ago. This gave the magic user the ability to know the situation and see the surroundings of the targeted location before they landed.

For this reason, Brelyah was glad she had chosen this Teleport spell. Off to the west of the camp where they had arrived, was another Shakarine army. Brelyah could see that the newly discovered Shakarine army was preparing to attack the western half of the Yemenite army that had been placed to protect the western flank of the entrance to the plateau. Brelyah knew she needed to act fast. By using this Teleport spell, she would have just enough time to cast an Invisibility spell before they materialized, thus, hiding the Princess and guards as they reached the targeted teleport location.

Cursing herself, Brelyah knew she would need a few hours before she would be able to teleport again. When she was younger, she didn't need so much time to recuperate. "Stand still and don't move," Brelyah whispered to the party. "We are invisible but can still be heard."

Sartura was overwhelmed with questions. She had no clue as to what had just happened to them. Looking around, she realized she wasn't the only one confused. As Sartura looked beyond the forest, she saw her father's army. On the front line the flags of Yemenor flapped in the wind, and accompanying the flags, was the banner of the King. Her father was leading this army!

Brelyah held her finger firmly to her mouth, indicating silence. No one was willing to argue. Less than fifty yards from where the party stood, Shakarine soldiers were preparing to enter the forest attempting to flank the Yemenite army. They would be charging into Sartura and the guards. There was no time to escape. Drawing her sword, Sartura prepared to attack the charging Shakarine. The guards reacted to Sartura's sense of danger and instinctively drew their swords and prepared to meet the approaching enemy.

Turning to Brelyah, Sartura angrily whispered, "What have you done to us, and why did you abandon Yron?"

# Chapter 47

With the Warrior Wizard out of range on the northern edge of the Shakarine army, Lord Myningar had no choice but to continue to protect the entrance to the plateau. It would be impossible for the Special Forces group to mount an attack on the wizard. Until there was something for them to attack, they would need to remain with the main army and defend the entrance so that the people of Yemenor would be able to escape to the top of the plateau. He knew that at present, the latter was more important.

Despite the decision, concentrating and listening to Lord Og's report detailing the progress of the evacuation was difficult because Lord Myningar hated to give up on attacking the wizard so easily. At least Lord Og's report started with the good news that the evacuation of the citizens from Yemenor was progressing faster than expected.

It didn't take long for Lord Myningar's thoughts to wander back to the Warrior Wizard and what he could be doing to stop him. Distracted, Lord Myningar soon stopped paying attention to Lord Og's report altogether.

"Lord Myningar, what do you want us to do?" Myningar realized this was the second time Og had asked him a question. The question, what was the question? Lord Myningar focused his concentration back to what Lord Og was saying. Raising his hand to his chin, he attempted to make it look like he was pondering the question he was just asked. In frustration, Lord Og raised his voice – the tone of his voicing demanding an answer. "Do we rush the wounded soldiers to the top of the plateau or wait until the people reach the top before we begin to transfer the wounded soldiers?"

After a few seconds, Lord Myningar dropped his hand from his chin, "Citizens first, soldiers second, and the supplies last," he ordered.

As the men focused their discussion on the logistics of moving the people, Lord Myningar felt frustrated that no one understood the magnitude of the issue; how were they going to deal with the wizard?

As Myningar turned to ask for the exact position of the wizard, another messenger ran into the tent unannounced. Two more armies were spotted heading toward the entrance of the plateau from the east.

Brelyah didn't have a chance to answer Sartura's question; a Shakarine horn sounded, and the troops before them were on the march. As the main Shakarine force began its attack on the Yemenite army led by King Timon, a small portion of the enemy army entered the forest to provide a flanking attack on King Timon's forces. Brelyah was conflicted.

She knew that by not removing the Invisibility spell she was in violation of the treaty, but on the other hand, if the spell were removed, the small party would be quickly overwhelmed and killed. She hastily decided there was no choice. Brelyah was the one that teleported Sartura and her party into this danger, so she was responsible for their safety, treaty or not.

The five hundred Shakarine soldiers that charged into the forest were quickly in disarray; their comrades leading the charge were being attacked and killed, and there was no one in sight. The leading edge of the flanking army stopped to in an attempt to discover what was killing their soldiers as they entered the forest.

The remaining Shakarine troops, which backed up behind them, were trying to push ahead, but as each man entered deeper into the forest, something would cut them down. By the time the commander of the flanking forces reached the edge of the forest, he could see that over fifty of his men lay dead on the ground with no reasonable explanation for their deaths. The men of the flanking force were refusing to enter the forest any deeper.

Looking around and seeing nothing to justify a retreat, the commander raised his sword and shouted, "Charge!" but before he had taken five steps farther into the forest, he joined the fallen Shakarine troops along with the eleven men that had followed his lead. Upon seeing their demise, the remaining Shakarine soldiers turned and fled from the forest.

Looking to the north, Sartura could see that the Shakarine and her father's army were still fully engaged in battle. Sartura could tell the guards wanted to leave the forest and join the fight, but she prevented them from doing so. She feared that the commanders of the Shakarine army would appoint a new commander and order another attack through the forest.

It wasn't long before two enemy knights and their entourage rode up to the edge of the forest. One of the knights dismounted from his horse and entered the forest as Sartura signaled to the guards to hold their position. Drawing her bow, she fired an arrow into the chest of the knight that remained on his horse.

The man let out a scream as he fell from his horse, prompting the knight that had made his way into the forest to turn and run back toward the prairie. Sartura followed the knight as he ran toward his horse, and once he entered the prairie, she swung her sword dropping the second knight as he stepped foot onto the prairie floor.

Seeing the second knight slain by nothing visible as he reentered the prairie, caused the remaining men on their horses to turn and race back to the Shakarine command center. The knight lying on the ground with the arrow in his chest was still breathing when Sartura walked up to him. "It is now time for you to die," she said.

"No...no! What do you want to know? I will tell you anything!" the fallen knight said, as he pleaded for his life.

Sartura motioned for two of the guards to pick the man up. Turning toward the rest of her party, she said, "It is time we take this prisoner to meet with the King." From the reaction of the fallen knight, Brelyah could tell he still didn't understand what was happening. While he could feel the guards lift him from the ground, there were still no bodies associated with what was happening to him as he was taken back inside the protection of the forest.

The small party now led by Sartura was prepared to exit the forest. Out on the prairie floor, two of the King's scouts rode up to where Sartura had attacked the enemy knights. The patches on their shoulder indicated their position and rank. Sartura realized this would be the best opportunity for her and her party to take their prisoner to her father.

As Sartura and her party approached the forest line, Brelyah dispelled the Invisibility spell. Initially, the scouts from the Yemenor army raised their crossbows, aiming them at the chest of Sartura and her party as they exited the woods, but once they recognized the emblems of the King's Guard, they prepared a way for the party to be taken to the King's command center.

At the command center, the enemy knight started talking before he was even asked. Initially, King Timon listened to him as he explained the attack strategy of the Shakarine. It wasn't long before the King motioned for the knight's removal. "He has nothing of value. If he has anything that will help us, he will need to explain it to the guards. We have more important issues. We are at war." As the King walked away, he turned just before he entered the command center, looking back at the prisoner, "If he doesn't provide any useful information, do with him as you wish."

Sartura stood silently watching the proceedings as Brelyah stood behind her. The guards that only hours before were defending her, now had surrounded the King, reporting the details of their battle with the Shakarine to the east, including the lightning bolt that hit the young wizard maiggii.

The news that the maiggii had been abandoned on the battlefield was disturbing to King Timon, but the guard quickly explained that it appeared that the last thing the maiggii had done before he collapsed was to magically move them to safety, which transported them to the forest where they had fought off the Shakarine flanking forces.

Before the guards could finish their story, horns sounded announcing another attack from the Shakarine. King Timon and his men immediately left to retake their position on the front line. Sartura and Brelyah were left standing by the command center alone.

Sartura turned to Brelyah, "I am sorry, I have something I need to do." With that, she ducked inside the command center.

It had been many years since King Timon had swung a sword in true combat, and he quickly discovered he had forgotten the rigors of battle. Initially, he could swing his sword with the same strength and stamina of long ago, but as the battle wore on, he could feel fatigue setting in. Each swing of the sword came with a greater effort, each new soldier that challenged him seemed stronger and faster than the last.

King Timon knew he couldn't retreat or fall back and allow his guards to fight for him. That wouldn't be kingly, and it would destroy the morale of the men fighting near him. There was no turning back; he needed to fight on. With each fallen enemy, the ground became more difficult for the attacking army to navigate through. This gave the King and his guard a little time between each attacking soldier – welcome seconds that strengthened King Timon's stamina.

Fortunately, the archers were doing their job, and the enemy death toll was rising. By midday, the Shakarine sounded their horns to retreat. King Timon ordered his trumpets to signal his army to stand their ground and not pursue the retreating forces. Defensively, they had the advantage, and the King wasn't willing to lose it by making a foolish charge. A cheer arose from the Yemenite forces as the Shakarine retreated with their shields held high, protecting themselves from the archer attacks.

His body ached, and Yron didn't have the strength to push himself off the ground. His arms were too weak to function, and it felt as though something had dropped on his chest, crushing it to the ground. His body felt aflame, and the smell of burnt cloth and scorched hair filled the air around him. The last thing Yron could remember was something hitting him in the chest and knocking him backward before a flash of flames enveloped his entire body.

Yron was finding it hard to breathe. Summoning the strength to roll over, he found that he was lying on the prairie floor, alone. Everyone had disappeared – Sartura, Brelyah and the guards were gone. There was no way for Yron to determine how long he had been lying there, but the Shakarine army that he had been battling with, what seemed like only moments ago, was gone.

His sword was charcoal black, clothing was burned from his skin, and the shield had a hole notched in its side. The flash of light must have hit my sword and shield first, Yron thought, trying to understand what had happened. Both the chainmail and the blue metal cloth tunic he was wearing had a black spot burned in the middle of his chest. But he was alive.

With each passing minute, the pain seemed to subside. Soon, Yron could feel his strength return. He sat up and look across the battlefield. The fighting had stopped, and Shakarine soldiers were scrambling back toward the east, some carrying the wounded or helping injured men depart from the battlefield.

It is quiet now – eerily quiet, Yron thought. From where he was sitting, he couldn't see anyone lying around him that had clothing that matched what his party was wearing. Why did they leave me? Yron wondered. This was not like Brelyah, and he didn't believe that Sartura would have abandoned him either. They must have been captured; he figured, he needed to find them!

Yron was feeling strength return to his body. He was now able to move his arms and legs without pain. His body was visibly healing as he watched; burns that only moments ago were blisters were now nothing more than red marks on his arms and feet. Interesting, he thought, I have no shoes. Yron's only explanation for the healing was the blue metal clothing.

After removing the remaining burnt clothes, Yron wiped the black spot on his chest from the chainmail and blue clothing. Beneath the black, they were somehow undamaged. Yron reached for his pack and took out clothes to replace the burnt attire he had been wearing. Looking back up the face of the plateau cliff, Yron knew there was no time to get help. If he were going to rescue Brelyah, Sartura, and the rest of the guards, he would be doing it alone. Yron hadn't gone more than one hundred feet before he encountered several Shakarine soldiers. It didn't take long for him to dispatch them, but he quickly realized that without a disguise he wouldn't make it very far into the Shakarine encampment.

Dragging one of the enemy soldiers into a ravine that crossed the prairie, Yron switched clothing with the fallen Shakarine soldier. Yron hated giving up the chainmail armor and shield that he had been using, but he knew he had no choice as he placed them back into his bag. Changing clothes so he could infiltrate the Shakarine army was the only way he could save his friends.

Across the prairie, Yron could see Shakarine soldiers fleeing to the east. To the north of where he was standing, heading directly toward Yron, was a large black animal charging toward him. From Yron's vantage point, it was some type of animal that Yron had never seen before. As it got closer, Yron could see a rider on the animal.

The animal and rider were in a hurry. Any Shakarine soldiers that didn't get out the way were simply run over. He needed to find a place to hide. Something inside Yron was telling him that the rider was looking for him. Finding a ravine to hide in, Yron pulled his pack toward him. He put down his sword and retrieved the bow that he and Raaj had recovered from the Warteen assassins that attempted to kill Darmuth, and he laid it on the ground next to the sword.

Suddenly, an unexpected thought crossed his mind; I need the black arrowhead and arrow shaft. When he tried to analyze why he felt he needed them, he simply knew it was urgent to place the arrowhead on the black arrow shaft and fire it from the assassin's bow at whoever was riding the approaching animal. Yron resisted the thought – he was no archer, but as the animal got closer, the need intensified. Soon enough, he had the arrow notched in the bow with the bowstring pulled creating tension.

Lifting the bow, Yron pulled back the string and loosed the arrow. Hit the rider was Yron's last thought. It was as if the arrow wanted to know what it was aiming at just before Yron released it. By the time the arrow left the bow, the animal was less than one hundred and fifty feet away from Yron. Fortunately, the beast and rider didn't seem to realize Yron had moved. They were charging to where he had fallen at the hands of the enemy spell.

As the rider fell from the back of the beast, Yron realized this was no animal; it was a mutilated dragon. The wings were gone, and the tail had been shortened. What type of magic was used to capture the dragon, and how could it be enslaved? he wondered. Who would do that? The realization that the dragon treaty had been broken overwhelmed Yron. He had heard late-night stories around the campfires on Valkreen, retold by the old wizards, of the dragon battles and the power of dragon magic.

If the dragons had allied with the Shakarine, this war would take on a new level of gravity. Yron shuddered to consider how this news would cause Master Raaj a pained reaction. Even Raaj might not be able to reason with the Dragon Council in assuring the treaty should remain in force, but without an agreement, the High Plains wouldn't stand a chance against an army of dragons, wizards, and men.

Before Yron could fully consider the ramifications of the broken treaty, the rider that rode the dragon stood and cast another spell. He had located Yron in the ravine. Although Yron dropped behind the ravine before the spell reached him, he could hear the spell hit the ground behind him. Ducking so he couldn't be seen, Yron ran down the ravine forty or fifty feet.

Finding a bush that grew up out of the ravine, Yron hid behind it hoping to get a glimpse of the wizard casting spells. He was standing about one hundred feet away from Yron. In the center of the wizard's chest, protruded the black arrow shaft that Yron had shot. Blood was streaming down his white inner robe. Yron could see the wizard was having trouble walking toward the ravine, but with where the arrow hit, Yron couldn't understand how he was still walking at all.

The arrow had entered the chest in the center of where the heart should be – Yron marveled at the accuracy of his shot. As the wizard turned to scan the prairie, Yron could see the head of the arrow protruding from the wizard's back.

Stepping out from behind the tree, Yron cast an Entrap spell, and for the briefest of seconds, it appeared that the spell worked. Then suddenly – surrounding the wizard – a light blue hue appeared to burn the spell away. Once, while studying in the library about the Dragon Wars, he read about Dragonkind being able to dispel Entrap spells. Before Yron could continue the thought, the wizard cast another spell that struck the sword Yron was holding, knocking it from his hand.

Yron knew that standing in the middle of the prairie casting spells at the wizard and waiting for the wizard to cast a spell back, while indicative of a standard wizard fight, would most certainly lead to his defeat because he lacked experience. As his sword landed on the ground, Yron started to run toward the wizard, he figured that having the element of surprise was his only chance.

Reaching into his pack, Yron grabbed the sword with the white tree crest. Swinging the sword at the Wizard's casting hand as he ran by, Yron could feel the sword cut into his arm.

Yron spun around to face the Wizard; he could see the wound on his arm had prevented him from casting another spell. The wizard started to run, giving Yron the opportunity to cast a Trip spell which caused the Wizard to fall to the ground. Breathing heavily but still in control, Yron placed the sword against the back of the wizard's head and commanded him to roll over.

It was too late for Yron to react by the time the dust reached his eyes. A Dust spell! Yron thought as he tried to wipe his eyes clear. I should have realized. To his left, he could hear the wizard get up and start to run. Constrict! Yron commanded as he reached his hand toward the sound and squeezed it tight. Yron could hear the wizard take several more steps before he stumbled and fell to the ground.

Yron kept his fist tight to prolong the spell as he used his other hand to wipe the dust from his eyes. After a few seconds, Yron could see through his watering eyes. Lying on the ground about twenty-five feet away, the wizard was grabbing at his throat and chest gasping for breath.

Yron approached the wizard with great caution. His foe had landed on his chest, driving the arrow shaft the rest of the way through his body. Yron had no desire to lose the black arrow, so he grabbed the arrow shaft below the black arrowhead and pulled it the rest of the way through the his body and placed it back into his pack.

Yron relaxed the grip of his hand slightly allowing air to flow into the wizard's lungs. As he did so, he could hear the blood gurgling in the wizard's lungs. Rolling the wizard onto his back, it appeared to Yron that the wizard wasn't going to provide anymore resistance. Reaching into his bag, Yron grabbed one of his binding ropes and started to tie the wizard's hands and then his feet. Finally, he stuffed a piece of his burned clothing into the Wizard's mouth for a gag and then tied part of the rope across his mouth to hold the gag in place.

Once the Wizard was completely secured, Yron relaxed his grip on the Constrict spell allowing the wizard to breathe through his nose freely. The wizard's eyes flicked back and forth between Yron and the sword he was holding. The only thing Yron could see that would interest the wizard was the sword's crest.

Across the prairie, the mutilated black dragon stood watching Yron and the wizard. When the wizard was subdued, it appeared to Yron that the dragon seemed to relax. Raaj had told him that Dragons were taught to understand and speak the languages of man. Keeping an eye on the wizard, Yron called to the dragon, but it didn't respond to anything Yron said.

Perhaps if I used Shakarine, Yron thought. As he sought for the words to form a sentence, he wished he had paid more attention to the time Raaj had attempted to teach him the languages of the people that were not from the High Plains. Exasperated because of his inability to speak fluently, he called to the dragon to come in broken Shakarine. Initially, the dragon hesitated, but eventually, it took a step, then another. Each step the dragon took seemed very difficult for it; there was real hesitancy in its movement.

Reaching his hand out toward the dragon caused the creature to flinch and take several steps back. It took several minutes, but eventually, the dragon walked up to Yron, trusting that Yron wouldn't harm him. As the dragon reached Yron, it lowered its head.

As it did so, Yron reached up and scratched it behind its ear. Yron once read that dragons loved being scratched behind their ears; it's a place they can't reach with their front feet, and while they can reach it with their rear feet, the lack of control they have with their rear feet usually tears the skin and causes infection.

Yron was standing between the wizard and the dragon. There was a great deal of animosity between the two. Each time the dragon would bare its teeth and growl at the wizard, the wizard would cringe and attempt to roll away. Not wanting to be a part of any dispute, Yron stepped out from between the two.

The dragon stepped forward placing its mouth next to the face of the wizard as it spoke. Yron couldn't understand what was said, but once the dragon pulled its face back from the wizard, it stopped growling and making threatening gestures toward him.

As Yron turned his attention toward the black dragon, the creature jumped forward, knocking Yron to the ground. As he did so, Yron saw a flash of light come from the hands of the wizard. The spell that the wizard cast glanced off the natural scales of the dragon and crashed into the cliff wall.

The spell was meant for Yron, and the dragon had protected him! Yron didn't know what being protected by a dragon meant, but he did remember Raaj saying, "once a Dragon befriended you, you were friends for life." Yron hoped that was the case here.

Rising from the ground, Yron approached the wizard with his sword in hand. He wasn't sure he would be able to keep the enemy captive. Lifting his sword above his head, Yron swung the sword down severing the wizard's head from his body. Yron thought he heard the black Dragon scream, "No!" as he made the swing, but he couldn't know for sure. The moment the sword hit the neck of the wizard, Yron was knocked to the ground and covered with something so heavy he couldn't breathe!

Brelyah was left alone, which was fine by her. Promises were made to Raaj, and she needed to find his maiggii. While she wouldn't be able to cast a Teleport spell for a while, there were other spells she had access to that would help her return to the site where she had left Yron. Leaving the camp, she headed southeast toward the prairie where she had last seen him.

Brelyah stepped into the forested area, and after pulling the small pouch from under her belt, she took a pinch of the dried potion stored there. In a matter of seconds, she had transformed herself into a hawk. Lifting off the ground, she recognized the entrance to the plateau as well as other places where she had been with Yron.

Flying over their camp on the plateau, Brelyah could see Yron's Payleen and Ky still occupying their camp. They were clearly unhappy at being left alone for so long. The opening to the library was still visible. There were things there she wanted to follow up on, information about the Shadow Wars and even interesting information about the Dragon Wars and the Wizard's Council. The last was especially intriguing because it was one of the topics Raaj and she had agreed to never discuss together.

It wasn't long before Brelyah was flying over the portion of the prairie where Yron had been left. Below, she could see the thin line of burnt grass that showed the trail the dragon dart took before it hit Yron. The grass was burnt where she landed, but she couldn't see Yron's body anywhere.

Taking to the air again, she circled to get a better look at the place where Yron's body had landed. Then she noticed something enormous lying near one of the ravines. There was only one thing she could think of that was that large, but she knew that they were not allowed to travel across the Watery Divide without prior authorization.

As she swooped down to get a better look, Brelyah's worse fears were verified. A Silver Dragon lay on the ground; its head had been severed. Blood was still oozing from a wound in its chest that appeared to have penetrated through the entire body. As she landed, she retook her human form. Brelyah's mind was filled with thoughts, but none of them could explain away the shock she was feeling. What on earth could have killed this dragon? And when? Whatever it was, it had killed the dragon between the time she had cast the Preserve spell on Yron and teleported away with Sartura and when she had returned several hours later, which was unexplainable in her mind.

Even during the Dragon Wars, except for the spells the humans created that made the dragon scales dissolve, the written history explained how hard it was for mankind to kill a dragon. A dragon alone was extremely difficult to kill. It required many soldiers and several wizards to prevent it from flying away. But even under the best of circumstances, it would take many, many, many hours to cause enough damage to kill the dragon's heart and then sever its head.

Upon closer look, she saw there had been a second dragon at the scene as well, a much smaller dragon. What were two dragons doing here? Why did the one dragon abandon the other's body? And why weren't there any foot tracks of this Silver Dragon?

Sartura waited for Brelyah to leave before she quickly changed her armor and clothing and secured her long hair beneath her helmet. Pushing back the tent door with her sword, Sartura adjusted her small battle shield and headed toward where her father's flag was standing. It never made sense to her why the King or the commander of an army would fly flags notifying the enemy where they were fighting, but today, she was grateful because it made it easier to find her father.

"Arutras," the first guard acknowledged. Sartura nodded to the guard as she passed. She was surprised and confused about how the guard had recognized her as Arutras until she remembered the emblems of arena accomplishments attached to her right shoulder.

It was more difficult than she expected to get to the front line. Soldiers were packed tight and waiting to take their position on the front line to fight. Additionally, being smaller than most of the soldiers made it harder for her to see where she was going until someone pushed her from behind, saying, "Message for the King, let me pass. Message for the King, let me pass"

Letting the messenger pass, Sartura pressed in close to the messenger and followed him through the crowd. Within minutes, they had passed through the King's Guard. Sartura hadn't taken more than a step past the guard before one of the guards grabbed her by the chainmail and pulled her back. As she turned, the guard recognized her, "Excuse me, Arutras," he said.

"I come to fight at the King's side," Sartura stated in a deeper voice.

With no further explanation to give, Sartura twisted, causing the guard to release his grip. She passed by several other of the King's guards. Eventually reaching the front line, she grabbed one of the guards that was engaged in fighting alongside the King and pulled him back and away from the fight, as she stepped into his spot on the line. The fighting was tight quarters until Sartura dispatched several of the enemy soldiers in front of her. Slowly, she created more space by a combination of killing enemy combatants and the backing away of some of the men on the front line who were concerned that Arutras' swordsmanship could cause unintentional injury to them.

Sartura assessed the situation. If she could create space in front of her and to her left, she would be able to protect the entire right side of her father while appearing to be aggressively attacking the enemy. With that game plan in mind, Sartura attacked farther into the enemy line. To her left, several guards stepped up to protect her flank.

The King, seeing the space Arutras had created, stepped up to be engaged with more enemy soldiers, which only caused Sartura to attack deeper into the enemy line. The advancement of the King and his guards caused the entire line to start pushing back the Shakarine.

It wasn't long before the cheers from the Yemenor soldiers standing behind the front line caused additional encouragement to the soldiers that were fighting. The Shakarine line broke, causing the enemy army to turn and run. This time, King Timon ordered the trumpeters to sound horns indicating pursuit of the retreating forces.

The horns sounding pursuit was all it took for Darmuth, who had ordered his cavalry to the western battlefront when he had become discouraged with Lord Myningar, to race out on the prairie with his men cutting down fleeing Shakarine. With each pass through the fleeing Shakarine soldiers, they killed or wounded several hundred enemy troops.

Finally, Darmuth felt he was doing something that would make his father proud of him. Behind him, his guards carried the flags of the Crown Prince of Yemenor. The fifth pass through the retreating enemy forces took him over a small knoll and out of the sight of King Timon and his attacking forces.

As Darmuth turned to make a sixth pass, he saw the Shakarine forces pouring out of the woods attempting to close off his ability to retreat. Darmuth ordered his men to fall back, but only a few of them escaped the Shakarine flanking move. As Darmuth turned to see the fate of his men, an arrow struck his horse taking it to the ground. Several of his men attempted to ride back to rescue the Prince, but the rainstorm of arrows that landed in and around Darmuth was too great to overcome.

Darmuth lay behind his horse, the arrows raining in and around him. The men that had been able to escape rode hard toward the King's banner. When they arrived, their report was simple, "The Prince is alive but wounded."

King Timon, who was unaware of his son's presence on the battlefield, sounded the call to attack. The men from Yemenor followed the orders of their King and raced toward the enemy front with Arutras leading the charge. The King and his guards followed, not because of a lack of heart but rather a lack of speed. As Sartura crested the rise, she could see the Prince's fallen flags; next to the flags, lay his collapsed horse.

There was no time to assess the situation with her brother. The Shakarine army had heard the trumpets from King Timon ordering an attack. Those Shakarine that were retreating from the Yemenites had turned and were charging back toward the Yemenite army.

This was going to be a field battle. The Shakarine troops were not in a line but rather scattered across the prairie. As the Shakarine commanders saw that the Yemenite defensive advantage of line fighting was gone, they ordered the reserve troops to attack as well. Breaking from the trees, thousands of Shakarine soldiers raced to meet the Yemenite army. The Yemenites were outnumbered, and there was no way to stop the charge.

Sartura made the decision to fight toward where Darmuth had fallen. From where she was standing, she could see that behind Darmuth's fallen horse, someone was hiding. There was no way for her to know if it was Darmuth but someone had to find out. By the time the King arrived on the ridgeline above where Darmuth had fallen, he could see that Arutras and three men with him had created a battle line around Darmuth's fallen horse.

King Timon and his men fought their way to Arutras' side. Once there, King Timon pulled his wounded son from behind the horse. He could tell from the look on his son's face that there was nothing he could do; it was too late. There was nothing the King could do but hold his son as the boy prepare to pass on to Jahla. All around him, King Timon could see men fighting and dying, but he could hear nothing but his sobs as tears of grief fell from his face.

Arutras kept looking toward the King and her brother. Soon, the King noticed the tears streaming down the great fighter's cheeks. Something about that face is familiar, the King realized, but his thought was interrupted by a heavy breath drawing from Darmuth's lungs. Darmuth was trying to grab something from the pack on his horse.

It was obvious from the agony in Darmuth's face that the arrow stuck in his arm was causing a great deal of pain each time he tried to reach for the pack on his saddle. Finally, the King reached for the pack and drew it close to Darmuth. Opening the pack, the boy pulled out a small wooden box.

"Grand Master Raaj's maiggii, Yron, will need this to cast the Inset spell for Purstar. He told me that Maiggii Yron will need this to complete the spell," Darmuth whispered.

King Timon clenched the box in his hand; he wanted to crush it out of existence as he held his dying son. Eventually, the King placed it back into Darmuth's pack and turned back to the Prince. The entire battlefield heard the scream of a father as he watched his son take his last breath. For a second, the fighting paused. King Timon held his son tight to his chest then let the boy slide from his lap.

As he did so, King Timon grabbed his sword. Standing, he became a grief-stricken warrior, attacking the Shakarine with reckless abandonment. Initially, he fought with his sword and then eventually, he picked up a second sword from one of the fallen Shakarine.

The ferocity with which he attacked the Shakarine made it hard for his guards to keep up. Sartura tried to fight alongside her father, but even at his age, with his rage, she couldn't match his prowess in killing the Shakarine that faced him.

As time continued, the Yemenite soldiers began to group, forming a circle around the King's fallen son. By dusk, there were about three thousand Yemenor men still standing, and surrounding them, fought five thousand Shakarine. The Shakarine commander sounded a trumpet of truce as the Shakarine soldiers stepped back to provide space. "If you leave this battlefield now, we will give you safe passage," the Shakarine commander shouted.

There was barely a moment of time that passed before King Timon shouted back, "Today I will either die alongside my son or see your blood mingled with his. As for my men, they may choose for themselves. They can stand with me or return to protect our people. Either way, there is no disgrace for them," King Timon yelled.

All but about five hundred of the Yemenor soldiers left the battlefield. Those that stayed closed their ranks and encircled the King and his son. One of the soldiers raised his sword, "For King Timon!" and all the men shouted "King Timon!" Another shouted, "For his son!" Again, the men shouted, "Prince Darmuth!"

Once again, the trumpets sounded for the Shakarine to attack. By dusk, the Yemenor forces were reduced to half. Sartura continued to fight alongside her father. There were cuts all along her arms and legs. A couple of times she had to step in and protect her father from an attacking Shakarine soldier. She could see he was tired and unable to continue, and the King's guards understood this and stood by Arutras to form a line of protection.

The sun was starting to set when the commander of the Shakarine sounded another trumpet of truce. He offered King Timon the same option to leave the battlefield, but when he did this, he explained to King Timon that his army had just received Warteen reinforcements.

"I will not leave," the King replied. "These men may do what they wish."

Arutras looked around; there were fewer than twenty-five Yemenite men still standing. She could tell from their expressions that none of these men would be leaving the battlefield. She watched as the commanding forces of the Warteen approached the commander of the Shakarine forces. She could see them talking and then heard the trumpet sound to attack.

Out of the corner of her eye, Sartura saw her father stand and raise his sword. As he did so, the force of the attacking Shakarine pushed back several of the King's guards, exposing the King to their attack.

"Nooooo!" Sartura shouted as one of the men drove his sword into the chest of her father. King Timon buckled over the sword and fell to the ground. Reaching for her father, another of the enemy soldiers swung his sword hitting Sartura on the side of her head and knocking the helmet off her head. As he did so, Sartura's long black hair flowed out of the helmet and landed on her shoulders.

It was hard to tell who on the battlefield, friend or foe, was more surprised that Arutras was a woman. Fortunately, the shock from the attacking Shakarine soldiers gave Sartura enough time to regain her composure and attack the man who had stabbed her father and then anyone that approached her as she stood over her father's body.

Blood from the cut made when the helmet was knocked off her head covered the side of her face and flowed down her. Around her, the remaining men from Yemenor had fallen. With her sword, she maintained space between her and the Shakarine soldiers. For several minutes, only those Shakarine that were brave enough to step into the circle of protection died.

Again, the commander of the Shakarine forces sounded a trumpet of truce. As he walked through his army, the Warteen commander and those traveling with her followed him. "This battle is over," the Shakarine commander said. "We will provide you with a wagon to remove your King and his son from this battlefield. It will do neither you nor your people any good to add your blood to that which was spilled on the ground this day," the commander continued.

Sartura dropped her sword and slowly knelt. Cradling her father's head in her arms, she finally broke down in tears. As she caressed the hair from his face, those that were near enough to hear, heard the King whisper, "My beloved daughter. Please take me to your mother."

Sartura saw one of the Warteen attempt to step forward but was stopped by one of the other women in her party. Looking up at the Warteen warrior's face, Sartura thought she saw a tear forming in the woman's eye.

One by one, the Shakarine troops peeled off the battlefield and headed back to their camp. It wasn't long before Sartura could hear the rattle of an approaching wagon.

# Chapter 48

"Who killed this Dragon and where did the head go?" Brelyah wondered out loud. The thought that a dragon could be so easily and quickly killed greatly disturbed her. She wished Raaj were here so that he could help her discover what had happened.

Brelyah's mind was filled with so many unanswered questions. Nothing was making sense. What was the dragon doing here on the field of battle, and why kill a dragon if you didn't plan on taking the dragon stone? Tradition said that the dragon's body belonged to whoever slew it, including the heart stone.

Brelyah scanned the horizon. She wanted to make sure there was no one watching what she was about to do. Off in the distance, several Shakarine soldiers were attempting to get back to their camp, but other than that, she didn't see anyone watching.

First things first, Brelyah needed to hide the dragon body until she could property dispose of it. At this moment, the best place to hide it would be in the ravine, using magic to cover the body with vegetation.

Moving the dragon body in her current form was something Brelyah didn't know if she could do, but there was no choice, she would have to try. The Levitate spell did lift the body, but part of it still dragged on the ground as she pulled it into the ravine. Brelyah knew she needed to chant a Strength spell, but she was out of practice, and it had been a long time since she had attempted to keep two spells going at the same time.

On her second try, Brelyah was finally able to move the dragon. She transported it twenty-five feet before exhaustion overcame her due to keeping two spells going at the same time. She wasn't used to this. There hadn't really been much need for magic over the years. In fact, she had used more magic in the last couple of days than she had used in decades.

She needed time to rest. Perhaps she could study the dragon's body and discover more about what had happened to him. As Brelyah walked around the dragon, she found its head lying under the body. The head had been cut off while it was still alive. It was severed with a single stroke. This only created more questions for Brelyah.

Brelyah didn't know of, nor had she ever heard of, anyone who could sever a dragon's head in a single stroke, not even Raaj in his youth with his Dragon Sword. As she looked in its mouth, she realized that the dragon hadn't even attacked whoever had killed it. A closer look at the wound in the dragon's chest showed her why the dragon didn't survive the beheading. Something had cut through the armor plating that the scales provided, penetrating both dragon's hearts and exiting through the back of the dragon. Whatever it was must had partly severed the spinal column.

As Brelyah walked around to investigate the exit wound in the back of the dragon's body, she found another clue. Lying face down on the ground, trapped under the dragon's body was a man. Clutched in his hand was a sword with the engraving of the white tree. How did anyone still have one of the ancient Yantea swords? As she reached for the sword, the man's hand grasped the sword tighter as he tried to push himself up.

On his left hand was the ring of a wizard's maiggii. Just as he tried to stand, Brelyah recognized the man. "Yron!" His face was severely burned, but through the burns, she recognized him. As she shouted his name, she jumped into his arms hugging him. "I thought you were lost." Yron winced in pain, and Brelyah realized the consequence of her action. Pushing Yron back, she wiped her hands on her clothing. She cleared her throat and wiped the smile from her face regaining her composure. "Well, it is nice to see you are alive," Brelyah calmly spoke.

Yron could see in Brelyah's eyes that she was indeed pleased to see him. The two looked at each other for a while. The silence was awkward, and Brelyah was relieved when Yron finally spoke. What he asked her only confused things more. "Where did this dragon come from? And what killed it?

Dragons were not easily killed – Raaj had taught him that. And, as established in the Treaty, they weren't even allowed to enter this land. Yron was looking for answers, and Brelyah had none to give.

Finally, Brelyah couldn't resist, "How on earth did you end up under this dragon?"

Yron had no explanation. He relived the battle he had with the wizard. He told her about how the wizard was riding a mutilated dragon, how the dragon helped him, and the last thing he thought he heard before he cut the wizard's head off was the mutilated dragon screaming, "No!"

This explained a lot to Brelyah, but this wasn't the time to clarify anything to Yron. She needed to talk to Raaj. There were things happening that needed discussing.

"Let's get you back to the plateau," Brelyah suggested kindly.

However, Yron was determined to head to the Shakarine encampment. Sartura had been captured, and he had promised her father he would watch out for her. Before he could start his march toward the Shakarine camp, Brelyah stopped him by explaining that, after the flash of light had hit Yron, Sartura and the rest of the guards were able to escape behind the Yemenor line. With the reassurance that Sartura was safe, Yron agreed to return to the plateau to be reunited with Princess Sartura and her host of bodyguards.

Since Yron was safe and getting something to eat, Brelyah had a chance to excuse herself and attempt to find a quiet place where she could reach out to Raaj. Leaving the camp was easier than she expected. With troops returning from the west entering the camp nestled inside the entrance to the plateau at Tamar Wayne and wounded soldiers being loaded in wagons to be taken to the top of the plateau, she was able to slip away without being noticed.

After she was airborne, Brelyah looked back over her shoulder at the plateau cliffs that loomed above the prairie. She didn't know if she would ever return, and this caused her great sorrow. She had made friends, and in her life, Brelyah knew that friends were hard to come by. Turning back to the north, Brelyah knew she had to find Raaj and find him fast.

Raaj and Brelyah had exchanged true names years ago. While they had used their true names in the Mind Talk spells, she never dreamed there would ever be an occasion or a reason to use it to locate Raaj, but this was one of those occasions. Within minutes of casting the Find spell, Brelyah knew where Raaj was. She would be with him tonight.

Lord Myningar watched as the last of the Yemenites were transported to the top of the plateau. With no reports from the east of additional troop movement, Lord Myningar focused on the reports from the battles in the west.

Lord Myningar called together his War Council. The reports from the battle to the west were just starting to come forth. Lord Myningar stood, not believing what he was hearing. The men of Yemenor had left their King on the battlefield? He knew the King hadn't only ordered him personally to stand to the last man protecting Tamar Wayne so the people of Yemenor could escape to the plateau safely, but he was ordered to protect the entrance as well.

The King was on the battlefield, abandoned by the army that swore to protect him and the Kingdom. Myningar watched as Lord Baintor and Lord Capnar issued orders to rally their men to the defense of the King. From what he could see, their armies were prepared to follow them onto the battlefield to race to the aid of the King.

While he waited for the members of his War Council to assemble, Lord Myningar stood on one of the nearby wagons. As he looked across the prairie, he watched the remnants of the King's army help each other and the wounded back to Tamar Wayne. His biggest fear now was that Baintor and Capnar would arrive too late.

Lord Myningar listened as the reports of the events on the battlefield to the west came forward. His anger grew when he learned that Darmuth had disobeyed him by riding with his cavalry unit to the western battle lines after he had personally ordered them to stand their ground on Benflyn Dor. Once the King returned, he would ask that Darmuth be sent to the plateau and required to stay there. He knew this would embarrass the young Prince, but protecting the bloodline of the kingdom was more important than saving a seventeen-year-old boy some embarrassment.

Meanwhile, Lord Og was making unbelievable progress. Cerdon's troops were on the prairie floor and prepared for battle. The supplies had been transported to the top of the plateau by the lifts, and within an hour, the remaining wounded troops would be taken up the lifts. Lord Myningar looked around, he began to develop a plan to protect the plateau with fewer men. It was time to pull back their front line to prepare their defenses at the entrance of the plateau.

If he placed his archers on the upper switchbacks of the road to the plateau, they would still have a height advantage that would make them impervious to enemy archer fire. The longbow archers would be able to fire their arrows beyond the first line of defense. With them positioned on the switchbacks, he could have more of his archers engage the enemy. By turning the catapults, they could make sure that each time a catapult fired it would be able to go over the new line of defense at the plateau entrance and land on the enemy troops that were bunched up behind the line. By bringing all the troops within the entrance, he wouldn't have to worry about a flank attack, and the front line would be less than one hundred feet across.

This was a perfect place to defend. It would only take a few thousand troops to withstand ten times that many. He could leave most of the soldiers at the top of the plateau where they would be rotated to the front line every night. After meeting with the War Council, the decision was made to keep five thousand troops on the prairie floor and the rest of the troops in reserves on the plateau to defend the entrance. This would give Lord Myningar the space needed to feed the troops and provide a place for the Healers to work on the wounded. Once the wounded were stabilized, they would be transported to the top of the plateau.

As the men from the western front filed into camp, Lord Myningar asked Lord Og to move them to the top of the plateau. If he talked to them or even associated with them now, he wouldn't be able to restrain his anger at their abandonment of the King.

Lord Baintor and Lord Capnar had been gone for almost an hour when word came from the western front that the King had been wounded. Placing Lord Og in charge, Lord Myningar took his horse from the stables, and with his swords raised high, he raced toward the western front line.

Her tears having long ago dried on her face, Sartura drove the wagon toward the entrance of the plateau. In the wagon bed behind her, lie her wounded father and dead brother. The sun's rays were no longer providing the light she needed to drive the wagon. Only a thin slit of one of the moons provided a silhouette against the trees sufficient to guide her across the prairie. Each time the wagon shook because of the rough terrain, Sartura could hear the moans of her father. At least he was still alive. If only she could get him to the Healers fast enough, maybe she could save his life.

The scouts from Lord Baintor and Capnar's army intercepted her and stopped her long before she met up with the army that had been sent to reinforce her father, the King. Once the scouts realized she was transporting the King, two of the scouts continued west while two returned to provide a report of the King's situation and bring a Healer for him.

Turning the reins over to one of the other scouts, Sartura climbed into the back of the wagon to be with her father. She held his head in her lap as she brushed his silver hair with her hand. Looking into his face, her tears streaked down her face and landed on her father. The tears landing on his face caused his eyes to flicker slightly. This was the only reassurance to Sartura that her father was still alive.

It seemed like only a few minutes before Sartura could hear the thunder of horse's hooves indicating the scouts were returning. When she looked up, she could see they had brought the Healer with them. It was a male Healer, his white robe fluttering in the wind with the ends of the blue sash flying behind him slapping the rear of his horse. Everything seemed to be going in slow motion. The scout driving the wagon had stopped to allow the Healer to get into the bed of the wagon with the King and Sartura.

As Sartura watched the Healer work on her father, she came to the realization that if the Healer was unable to save her father's life, she... Not wanting to follow that thought to its end, bowing her head she started to pray.

Sartura watched the Healer while several men on horseback provided light by holding their torches alongside the wagon. Sartura watched the Healer's hands as they quickly stitched the wound shut then applied bandages to stop the bleeding. "We can go now," the Healer whispered to the young Princess. Nodding to the driver of the wagon, she felt the jolt of the wagon as the driver continued toward Tamar Wayne. Sartura listened as the Healer initially chanted a healing chant, but after a few minutes, the chant changed to a chant that would preserve one's life. Sartura recognized the chant the Healers had used to keep her older brother alive until the wizard was able to cast the Inset spell.

The men who held the torches for the Healer, continued to escort Sartura and the wagon to Tamar Wayne. The extra light gave the scout driving the wagon the ability to steer it away from the large obstacles on the prairie that made the wagon's ride rough. It was near midnight when they finally arrived at the entrance to the plateau.

Word had gotten to Yron that the King had been wounded. He knew Sartura was on the western battlefield with her father and that it was only a matter of time before she arrived at Tamar Wayne. To not cause an interruption on the road or by using the lifts, Yron cast a Feather Fall spell and used one of the ropes that Cerdon's men had used to descend to the prairie floor.

Even before the scouts arrived reporting that the King and the wagon carrying him was near, Yron could see the torches that were being used to light the way.

When the wagon arrived, Sartura jumped from the wagon and raced into camp. Yron could see from her face that something was terribly wrong. Leaving his meal, he ran toward the wagon and the Princess. Before he could reach Sartura, several of the King's guards had stopped him. "Sartura!" Yron shouted. On his third shout of Sartura's name, she spotted him.

As she rushed to Yron, he watched as other Healers entered the bed of the wagon. "It's my father," Sartura cried, tears swimming in her blue eyes. "He is wounded, and Darmuth is dead."

The news knocked the wind out of Yron. Darmuth was dead. And the King was wounded. Yron tried to focus on what Sartura was saying, but her initial words continued to reverberate through his head.

Before Yron knew it, Sartura's head was leaning against his chest, and her tears were soaking his tunic. As the King's wagon was escorted to the road that led to the top of the plateau, one of the experienced drivers took over the reins. The men with their torches walked alongside the wagon while the Healers continued working on the King. Sartura leaned on Yron's shoulder as they walked behind the wagon. Yron didn't know what to say to comfort the Princess, so he did the only thing he could think of – shut up and put his arm around her.

By the time the wagon reached the top of the plateau, Queen Timon was waiting for the wagon's arrival. Yron felt awkward, but he knew from Sartura's hold on his shirt that he was going nowhere. Sartura explained what had happened to Darmuth and her father. Queen Timon, taking control of the situation, ordered the wagon that the King was being carried into the camp that she had set up for the family.

After making sure the guards were stationed at the King's camp, Queen Timon turned toward Yron and asked, "Are you the wizard King Timon assigned to watch over Sartura?"

"Maiggii," Yron responded.

"Wizard, maiggii, what is the difference?" Queen Timon angrily corrected. "Keep watch over my daughter, and we will call for you when we have things under control."

Sartura wanted to stay with her mother and father, but for now, she could only do what her mother said. She had no choice; her father was alive, her mother was Queen, and her order came as Queen, not as mother.

"We need to get some rest," Yron said. Sartura didn't offer any resistance as Yron led her to his camp on top of the plateau. It was late by the time they were finally prepared to rest. Yron decided Sartura would sleep in the tent, and he would stay outside sleeping under the awning of the tent entrance.

The next morning, Yron was preparing something for them to eat for breakfast when Sartura exited the tent.

"What happened to your hair?" she asked. "And your eyebrows and eyelashes?"

"Things got a little hot yesterday," Yron replied.

The sound of the Yemenite army preparing for the day could be heard echoing up the walls of the plateau. Sartura wandered over to the edge of the cliff and watched the army preparing.

"If there is going to be a battle today, I am going to lead it," Sartura announced.

Yron attempted to persuade her against it, but Sartura's mind was made up and he didn't feel like wrestling her to the ground or casting a spell to prevent her actions.

Yron followed Sartura as she walked down the road from the plateau to the prairie floor. At that elevation, he couldn't see any troop movement. This is good, Yron thought. Perhaps there will be no fighting today, and Sartura will be safe.

When they arrived at the prairie floor, Lord Myningar was in the middle of his War Council. On the map, he showed how the Yemenite army had moved back inside the one hundred fifty-foot entrance of the plateau that was protected on three sides with the six-hundred-foot high walls of the plateau, thus, making it easier to defend. While Yron and Sartura were walking down the road to the prairie floor, they noticed the catapults had been moved, and the crews were practicing so they could control the range of the catapults. This would give the forces of Yemenor additional protection.

Catapults would cause great damage to any army force that was bunched up attempting to attack the front of the Yemenor army defending Tamar Wayne. All along the road that led to the plateau and along the leading edges of the cliff, archers had been stationed to provide additional protection. The troops that Lord Myningar had ordered to prepare a defensive line were constructing walls and moats to slow down the attacking forces.

Sartura insisted on meeting with Lord Myningar once the War Council was over. Yron was excluded from the meeting, but by standing guard at the entrance of the tent, he could hear Sartura and Lord Myningar talk. The information about the Warteen army that had reinforced the Shakarine army to the west was troubling Lord Myningar.

It was Sartura's insistence that she lead at the front of the army alongside him that caused Lord Myningar the greatest anxiety. Lord Myningar countered that if indeed her father did pass away, she would be the oldest surviving child and the only one who had the right to rule the kingdom, and she had no right to take that kind of risk.

The discussion continued until Sartura pulled the rank card. "As Princess and heir to the throne, it is my wish that you no longer fight against my wishes, and unless you get an order from my father to the contrary, you stand at my side as we defend the plateau together."

Lord Myningar was silenced. As they were preparing to leave, Sartura informed Lord Myningar that the wizard would be standing at her side as well. Lord Myningar opened the tent door for Sartura to pass through, recommending that they jointly address the men who would stand with them to defend the entrance to the plateau.

Sartura agreed, and within moments, trumpets sounded to call the troops. The men gathered near the platform that provided the army commander an overview of the battlefield.

"I suggest you place your helmet on and begin addressing the troops as Arutras before revealing who you really are," Lord Myningar told Sartura. Sartura nodded in agreement as she placed the helmet on her head, tucking her hair into the helmet so it couldn't be seen.

Lord Myningar, Sartura, and Yron climbed onto the platform and waited as the soldiers gathered. After a few minutes, Lord Myningar raised his arms to silence the crowd.

"Yesterday, Darmuth, heir to the throne was caught in a Shakarine flanking trap," Lord Myningar began. "King Timon was able to secure Darmuth's position, but the King arrived only in time to hold his son as he uttered his last few words. The attack that King Timon led to save the life of his son may prove fatal for the King as well. Currently, he is on the plateau, and the Healers are doing all they can. We do not expect the King to survive long," Lord Myningar explained.

Lord Myningar waited for a few minutes as the King's army expressed their concern and dismay. As the sounds from the army began to diminish, he continued.

"I have with me today a man many of you know and love, Arutras." The sounds of encouragement and cheering echoed against the walls surrounding the entrance to the plateau. Finally, they organized into the chant "Arutras! Arutras! Arutras! Arutras!"

Sartura raised her arms. The emblems of her successful arena fights adorned her shoulders. As she raised her arms, the soldiers' shouts began to subside.

"Many of you have cheered me on to victory in the arena. Some of you have followed me into battle. And although we have fought together – although we have been together in victories in the arena and on some occasions, we may have drunk together in one of the many pubs that surround the arena – I am here to tell you that none of you really know me." Only the wind causing a tent flap to snap against the side of the tent could be heard.

"Today, I ask you to stand at my side to fight against our enemies." Once again, the crowd picked up their chant, "Arutras! Arutras! Arutras!"

"I ask you to stand by my side and fight with me, not as a champion of the arena... "The soldiers were still chanting.

Sartura removed her helmet, allowing her hair to drop around her shoulders and continued, "But as Princess Sartura, heir to the throne of Yemenor." When Sartura removed her helmet, the chanting stopped. Sartura didn't know what she had thought would happen, but her immediate concern was now that the soldiers knew who she was, they wouldn't be willing to let her lead. The silence continued, and Sartura's heart began to sink. Had she made a mistake?

Then behind her and to her side, she heard someone shout, "Sartura! Sartura! Sartura!" By the third shout, the soldiers had joined in. Sartura was nearly brought to tears, but this was not the time. Turning toward the person who started the chant, she mouthed the words to thank Yron.

Impressed with the Princess and realizing she could no longer speak, Lord Myningar stepped forward and started to give the men the orders for the day. Assignments were made to continue to build the defenses, and rotations were put in place to relieve the men every couple of hours. However, front and center flew the flags that Sartura had used when she had fought in the arena as Arutras. Now, she would make her stand.

Shortly after, trumpets blew announcing the advancement of an approaching army. It took only a few minutes for Sartura, Lord Myningar, and Yron to move into position and prepare for a Shakarine attack. But instead of attacking, the large Shakarine army passed about three or four miles to the north in front of the entrance to the plateau. The scout report indicated that these Shakarine troops were moving to join the other Shakarine army that Lord Myningar had fought the day before.

As she circled overhead, Brelyah recognized Raaj in the lead. Ten other men were following him as the group rode along the southern tree line of the northern prairie. Breaking Raaj away from the group is going to be difficult, she thought. Perhaps he would recognize her hawk cry over the prairie as she pierced the evening air.

On the first of her cries, it didn't appear that Raaj had paid any attention to her. Dropping toward the ground, in what would appear to others like a hawk attacking prey on the ground, Brelyah let out another cry. As she pulled out of her attack dive, she could see Raaj had turned toward her. Now she would wait for an opportunity to meet with him. It wasn't long before Raaj was riding ahead of the group of men. Brelyah continued to follow him, appearing as if she was hunting across the prairie floor.

Once Raaj was far enough ahead of his party, he stopped and guided the Payleen into the forest. Brelyah landed in a nearby tree, dropping from branch to branch until she was sitting on the ground next to the wizard. It took a few minutes for her to ingest another dose of the shape-changing powder. As her form changed, Brelyah was slightly taken aback when Raaj grabbed her and gave her a big hug.

"My longest and dearest friend," Raaj proclaimed with a wide smile.

Brelyah grinned, "Raaj, it is good to see you."

The next words jumped out of Raaj's mouth without him thinking about them, "How is Yron?"

"There is much to talk about," Brelyah replied. "Yes, we need to talk about Yron, but first things first," Brelyah continued.

"The Shakarine armies that attacked King Timon's forces at the plateau were accompanied by a warrior wizard," Brelyah started. "Yron and the warrior wizard battled. I did not see the fight, but Yron ended up killing the wizard. Yron is alive, relatively unharmed and safe," she continued. Brelyah could tell Raaj was anxious to ask questions, but she held up her hand to stop him until she could finish her report. "The wizard was not what he appeared to be. When Yron cut off its head, the wizard reverted to its natural form at its death. The wizard was a Silver Dragon."

Raaj, who only moment before was filled with questions, stood quiet, overwhelmed, and unable ask any questions. The treaty had been broken. Dragonkind had allied with the Shakarine to attack the High Plains people. The war was more than a just a disagreement or a concern about a prophecy.

"There is more," Brelyah continued. "Yron killed the Silver Dragon single-handedly."

As Brelyah watched Raaj's response to her last statement, it seemed like hours before Raaj caught on to what she was implying. "The Prophecy," he uttered. Could Yron be the prophesied leader that would unite not only mankind but Dragonkind as well? Raaj didn't have time to ponder the possibility before Brelyah continued with her report.

"Also," Brelyah continued, "Yron is casting spells beyond his rank or even what should be his ability."

"You are needed on the plateau. Not just to help with what we have been discussing but because a library has been found which appears to have been assembled by Lord Glemmic," Brelyah continued. "In addition, I found a staff. I think it was Lord Malkanard's because it had the crest of the white tree engraved on its shaft. It needs to be taken to the vault and sealed inside."

Raaj remembered reading of the Wizards' Guild's decision to cease using magical staffs. There was no way to balance their power. With a staff, the Wizards' Guilds had become too powerful. Raaj was one of two people who knew about the staffs, Brelyah was the other. She had seen other staffs on occasions when Raaj had given her access to the vault while he researched topics which were important to him.

Raaj remembered his first time in the vault and finally seeing the staffs that had been secured there. The inscription overlaying their case explained why the use of staffs had been abandoned and why the Master Wizards were to do everything in their power to prevent the development of staffs in the future.

"Before you proceed," Raaj said to stop Brelyah, "You need to know that the Shakarine are using dragons as beasts of burden. Worse than that, they have mutilated the dragons by cutting their wings and tails off. I have seen it," Raaj confirmed.

Now it was Brelyah's turn to be caught speechless. "This cannot be so," Brelyah stated but because Raaj had said it, she knew it must be true. "Who is responsible for such evil?" she questioned out loud.

Three hours before dusk, another alarm sounded notifying the camp of an army approaching from the west. This one was much larger than the Shakarine army that had passed them heading east. As the approaching army stretched out across the prairie facing Sartura and her men, it was obvious to all that even if the Yemenor army could assemble in the plateau's entrance area, the army they faced was at least two or three times larger than Sartura's.

"I have never been so happy to have a defensive tactical advantage in my life," Lord Myningar uttered. All within hearing range agreed.

"Why have they assembled to fight with just a few hours of light left?" Sartura questioned Lord Myningar.

Before Lord Myningar could answer, in the center of the column that stood before them, a contingency unrolled a white flag and started to ride forward. "We will have our answer shortly," Lord Myningar replied.

Yron, after casting a Magnify Vision spell, informed the group, "There are four people riding forward."

"We will take three," Sartura stated. "Yron, Lord Myningar, ride with me." Turning to one of her guards she ordered, "Get us three horses!"

Yron was the first to object. "You need to be protected. Send Lord Myningar and... and me."

Lord Myningar had already agreed with Yron before Sartura stated her objection. "Either we will ride together, or I will ride alone," Sartura ordered.

Silently, the three stood at the head of the army. Neither Yron nor Lord Myningar was willing to disagree or attempt to argue with Sartura any further. It took fifteen minutes for the guards to bring forth the horses. By the time the horses arrived at the front line, the opposing army representatives had arrived at the center of the field and were waiting for Yemenite leadership to arrive.

Sartura and her escorts rode out to meet the representatives of the opposing army. When they arrived, Lord Myningar noticed the emblems on the flags. "These are not Shakarine," he stated. "This is a Warteen army."

Sartura turned to Lord Myningar, "Tell me about the Warteen."

"They are a matriarchal society. Their army consists of female warriors. The men are responsible for the cooking, raising children, and the repairing and manufacturing of weapons," Lord Myningar stated. "They are fierce in war and loyal in commitments. They are profoundly spiritual, and they follow the directions of their Shaman."

That was all Lord Myningar could tell Sartura before they arrived at the center of the battlefield. Sartura gestured for Lord Myningar and Yron to stop while she rode forward to meet with the commanders of the Warteen. As she rode forward alone, two of the Warteen commanders moved forward to greet Sartura. Their horses hadn't taken more than two steps forward before the clear leader of their contingency turned toward the other rider.

She didn't say a word, but the other rider stopped and turned back to stay with the others. Both leaders were close enough for all to hear what they said.

The Warteen commander spoke first, "Today, two great armies meet on this battlefield. We outnumber you, but you have the better defensive position. Many could die. Or it could be just one of us," she continued.

Sartura didn't look around for she knew what Lord Myningar would say even before she spoke. She didn't know how to handle Yron's objection, but she was sure there would be one from him as well. Staring into the Warteen commander's eyes, Sartura replied, "My blood will spill on this battlefield long before anyone from my army. Send forth your champion," she concluded.

"I am here," the Warteen commander stated as she dismounted her horse.

Sartura silenced both Yron and Lord Myningar with her glance as she dismounted her horse. She slapped her horse on its hindquarters, giving the two more room to fight. Sartura grabbed the small sword from inside her shield and stabbed it into the ground and then tossed her shield to the ground just in front of Yron's horse. Her next move was to remove her helmet, which she tossed alongside her shield. With the short sword, she cut a three-inch ribbon from her shirt and secured her hair to ensure it would stay out of her face.

With her fighting sword in one hand and the short sword in the other, Sartura announced, "I am ready."

# Chapter 49

"Sartura, you can't do this!" Lord Myningar shouted. "If your father dies and you don't survive this fight, there is no one to carry on the succession of the crown. The Timon line will end here and now, and the people of Yemenor will be left without a leader. Are you prepared for this?" Lord Myningar continued frantically.

Turning to Yron, Sartura commanded him to kneel. Placing her sword on his shoulder, she said, "If my blood is spilled on this ground today, Yron, you will reign in my stead. Lord Myningar, you are the required witness, appointed by our law, to oversee the passing of our crown from the last member of a royal family to its next heir."

Lord Myningar attempted to object, but before he could, Sartura lifted her sword and started to circle to the left of her opponent. It was clear the Princess had made up her mind, and there was nothing he could do. Turning his gaze to the young maiggii, Lord Myningar wondered; Has there ever been a time when a member of the Wizards' Guild ruled a kingdom? Before Lord Myningar could finish his thought, Sartura had started the battle.

What is Sartura doing? Lord Myningar wondered. She was exposing her weakest defensive position. On top of that, she was holding the short sword in her strongest attacking arm. Lord Myningar was furious. He had trained Sartura better than this, and now, when it mattered most, is the time she forgot all his lessons?

The two women circled for a few minutes. Occasionally, one of the women would feign an attack, but neither initiated the first exchange.

Lord Myningar soon noticed the wind kept blowing Sartura's hair into her eyes. Every time it fell into her face, Sartura's concentration on the fight broke as she shook the wayward hair away. Lord Myningar could tell the Warteen Commander had noticed it as well. Unfortunately, this was not arena fighting where Lord Myningar was able to shout coaching instructions to her during a fight. And, just as he suspected, the Warteen Commander attacked while Sartura was pushing back her hair from her face.

Sartura couldn't respond as quickly as Lord Myningar had hoped, and the Commander was successful in her attack, striking Sartura's short sword near the handle and knocking the blade from her hand. It was clear the attack had caught Sartura off guard, and she had to step back several steps to regain her balance.

Each time the wind would blow Sartura's hair into her face, the commander would attack, knocking Sartura back and off balance again and again. After several such attacks, Sartura turned downwind so the wind would blow her hair back away from her face. While this prevented the Commander's attacks from being launched when Sartura was blinded by her hair, it didn't stop the Commander's advances.

The quickness Sartura possessed in the arena was, for some reason, not present here on the battlefield. Lord Myningar could see that the armor carrying the royal markings she wore was too big for her and was slowing down her defensive movements. Even worse, the plated shoulder pads inhibited Sartura's attacks.

Sartura had sufficient strength and speed to knock away each of the Warteen Commander's attacks, but Lord Myningar knew that being forced back a couple of steps after each attack to regain one's balance rapidly increased the rate of exhaustion. It didn't help that the Warteen Commander had increased her attacks. She had even dropped her shield so that she could attack Sartura using both hands to swing her sword.

Lord Myningar clutched his sword, gripping it so tight his knuckles were turning white. He had determined that if it were the last thing he did, he would kill the Warteen Commander if she struck down the Princess. Lord Myningar turned toward Yron attempting to determine what the wizard was planning to do. As he turned, anger raged in Lord Myningar's heart. Yron was sitting on his horse watching the fight as though it was a form of entertainment. It appeared that as the Princess' successor, he didn't care if she lived or died.

The next series of attacks knocked Sartura to her knees and brought Lord Myningar's attention back to the battle at hand. Sartura was exhausted, and the Warteen Commander was circling her preparing to finish her off. Sartura's head was down, and Lord Myningar could tell she was breathing hard.

Lord Myningar couldn't resist, "This is no arena match, get up and fight!" he yelled, but it was too late. Lord Myningar's coaching fell on deaf ears. The Warteen Commander was already charging as her sword rose high before swinging down at the young Princess.

As the Warteen commander's sword swung down, Sartura moved to the side, her blade hitting the top of her opponent's sword driving it into the ground. As the Commander passed by her, Sartura's foot reached out and tripped her, causing the Warteen woman to fall to the ground. Before she could move, Sartura placed the tip of her sword on the Commander's throat pinning her to the ground.

With her left foot, Sartura moved her opponent's sword out of reach. "Today is not your day to die," Sartura stated. "I will give your family what you took from mine. While I return to our camp to spend the time with my dying father, you will return home with your army and have the opportunity to spend time with your family." Sartura stopped talking as she looked around.

"When I lift the tip of my sword from your throat, I will leave and return to my father's side. You will return with your entourage and lead your army off this prairie back to your homeland," Sartura concluded. "Do we have an agreement?"

Once the Warteen commander nodded in agreement, Sartura lifted the tip of her sword from the throat of the commander. The Princess stuck the sword in its sheath, walked over to her short sword, and picked it up. She retrieved her shield, placing the short sword in the holder of the armor and then picked up her helmet and placed it on her head. After walking over to her mount, Sartura hooked the shield to the saddle, climbed on the horse, and rode over to where Yron and Lord Myningar were sitting on their horses.

"I can't look back, it would be a sign of weakness," Sartura said as she rode up to the two men, "but what are they doing?" she asked. Without glancing behind, Sartura moved to ride between the two of them, heading back to where her army was waiting. Yron and Lord Myningar turned their horses to follow her.

"The Commander has picked up her weapon, climbed on her horse, and is riding back toward their army," Lord Myningar reported.

"Good," Sartura replied.

Yron didn't say a word. He noticed that while only moments before the princess was struggling for a breath of air, she now was not breathless at all. He had also noticed that while it would appear to everyone watching that Sartura was on the verge of losing the fight, there was no fear in her eyes. It was then that Yron understood what Sartura was doing. She played the Warteen champion for a fool. With that, he winked at Sartura, and for the briefest of moments, she smiled back.

The trio rode in silence for a few minutes. Lord Myningar finally spoke, "You were foolish out there. That was no arena fight, and you could have died."

"The fool out there was the Warteen Commander," Yron said. "Sartura knew exactly what she was doing the entire time. In fact, I was surprised she did not spring her trap on the Warteen champion sooner. I figure that the reason she didn't was either she did not want to embarrass the Warteen Commander by ending the fight too quickly or that she was having fun and didn't want to end it so soon," Yron concluded. "If you want to know which it was, you will have to ask the Princess yourself."

Lord Myningar rode in silence. After a few minutes, he finally asked, "If the maiggii is correct, which was it?"

Sartura started to laugh out loud, turning toward Yron, "You see more than you let on, don't you?" she declared.

When they reached the front line of the Yemenite army, Sartura turned to Lord Myningar, "Take command of the army. I do not believe we will be fighting today." Then she turned to Yron, "Maiggii, return with me to my father's side," she pleaded.

The tearstains on the King's bed linen outlined the Queen's face as she sat on the floor, her head lying on the cot where her beloved husband was struggling for life. All night long, the Healers had been chanting their Healing spells. Over time, the melodies of the chants even provided some relief for the Queen. She could hear one of the Healers tending to the King's wounds, and across the room, she watched the Healers tending to her wounded son, Prince Purstar.

The Queen hadn't understood her husband's insistence on having what he called an "Inset spell" cast on her son. Now, with the King nearing death and her youngest son's funeral planned for later in the day, the thought of another funeral for her oldest son was devastating. Making matters worse, her oldest daughter had left the safety of the plateau to stand with the army to defend the people of Yemenor from the attacking armies.

Thank goodness for Lord Myningar, the Queen thought. He will keep Sartura safely behind the defensive lines. She knew Sartura had always been fascinated by swordplay. The Princess had spent hours watching her brothers' practice in the small arena attached to the stables at the castle. As the Queen wondered if she would ever see her beloved home again, she was interrupted with news from the scouts.

Both armies had sent a contingency to the middle of the battlefield to negotiate some sort of truce. This is good, the Queen thought. Lord Myningar spent time in the diplomatic corps. Perhaps he will be able to implement a truce.

It was over an hour later when the trumpets signaled that Lord Myningar was returning. Anxiously, the Queen waited for the trumpets to begin issuing war commands, but with each passing minute, her hope for a temporary stop in the fighting increased. She was further gladdened by the news that her daughter was returning to the plateau.

By the time Sartura arrived at the tent where her father and brother lay wounded, the Queen had prepared herself for the day. Yron followed Sartura as she entered the tent but stood by the tent flap, not willing to disturb anyone with his presence. Sartura greeted her mother then proceeded to kneel at her father's side. "Papa," she whispered. Yron could see her father open his eyes to greet her, as he did, he whispered into her ear.

This is a moment too personal to watch, Yron thought, parting the tent door and starting to leave.

Before he could exit, Sartura stopped him. "Maiggii, stay," she ordered. If things had been uncomfortable before, the embarrassment of his failed unnoticed exit only made matters worse.

"It is time for what?" Sartura asked her father. Sartura leaned her ear closer to the dying King's mouth. Rising, Sartura turned to the guard who was stationed at the door. "Where is Darmuth's pack?" she asked. "It was brought with him in the wagon." It was obvious from the expression on the guard's face that he didn't know what Sartura was talking about. "Go find it. We need that pack immediately," she continued.

Turning to Yron, she said, "It is time for you to finish what you came here to do. Make any preparations you need. My brother lies over there." Sartura pointed to the cot where Prince Purstar lay.

"It cannot be done," Yron replied, "I need Master Raajanaar."

"You will need to do it without him," Sartura continued. "Even birds need to eventually fly on their own without their parents' support."

Yron started to explain why he was unable to continue when the guard walked in holding Darmuth's pack. Sartura quickly searched the bag, and after pulling a small wooden box from the pack, she handed it to Yron.

Looking down at the small box that he had fashioned out of wood weeks ago, Yron could see that his Master had completed the inner lining made from plithim. Casting a Detect Magic spell, Yron determined that the Inset Storage spell he had created and shared with Raaj hadn't been cast on the box.

Setting the box down on a table in front of him, Yron started the chant to enhance the Inset box so that it could accept the Inset of the dying Prince. Turning to the Queen, Yron asked her if her son had ever been known by any name other than the one he was given at birth.

The Queen assured Yron that the only name he had ever been given, or was ever known by, was his birth name, Purstar Timon. Turning back to the box, Yron continued with his chant. Occasionally, the Queen could hear her son's name intertwined in the words of the chant. "I will need to rest now," Yron said, as he finished.

As Yron started to leave the tent, Sartura stopped him again saying, "You can rest here." She pointed to one of the cots that surrounded the tent. The events of the last few days, coupled with the casting of the Inset Storage spell, had exhausted Yron, and he was in no mood to argue. After removing the ring mail armor, his sword, and boots, he lay down on the cot that was provided, his eyes closing before his head hit the pillow.

"We will ride through the night. We should be able to meet at the plateau by midday," Raaj said. At his words, Brelyah transformed back into a hawk, and Raaj watched as she flew from limb to limb until she reached the top of the tree. He climbed onto Verser and rode out of the forest and back onto the prairie. After he cleared the underbrush, Raaj could see that Brelyah was already on her way back to Benflyn Dor.

It was time for him to catch up with his party. Whispering in Verser's ear, the Payleen responded by lowering his head and starting to run along the forest line. It took less than half an hour for Raaj to meet up with the men in his party.

"We will ride through the night," Raaj informed the members of the party. "I will take the lead. Your horses will follow at a pace faster than you might expect." At their nods, Verser leaped forward, more than doubling the pace they had been riding. It wasn't long before the party was leaving the safety of the tree line and heading due south across the vast prairie.

Mutilated dragons, she thought. Why? Who could? What does all this mean? Brelyah was confused. Nothing was making sense. She had been gone from her own land too long. She decided that once she met up with Raaj back at the plateau, she would return home to see if she could understand what was going on. At the end of the month, the Grand Council Meeting, along with the Wizard's Council, would be meeting on Valkreen, and she would have more time to talk with Raaj about everything then.

Brelyah knew she would need Raaj's help to collect the dragon stone from the Silver Dragon. While it rightfully belonged to Yron, he wasn't prepared, and he wouldn't know what to do with the stone. She was sure Raaj would allow her to take it with her so that she could study and attempt to find out more about the Silver Dragon. It would be helpful if she were able to learn who he was and which of the dragon lairs he was associated with. Brelyah was sure her connections would allow her access to that information.

"Dozens of mutilated dragons," is what Raaj said he saw. How could there be so many dragons missing without retaliation from Dragonkind? Not only that but how could someone cut the wings from a dragon without killing it? The history books never mentioned a time when mankind had ever captured a dragon without having first attacked it until it was too weak to fight and before it could heal enough to fight again.

Brelyah knew dragons could heal from most wounds in a matter of weeks. That is why when men battled dragons they removed their heads as soon as possible. Beheading a dragon was the only way to stop the rejuvenation process. So why hadn't the wings and tails grown back? Brelyah wondered. This puzzle was getting murkier and murkier with each passing minute.

Brelyah knew that with Raaj's Payleen, he would arrive at the plateau only a few hours after her. There was a lot she wanted to do before he got there. First, she wanted to check and make sure the staff she had found was still safe. Then, she wanted to organize the books she wanted to take with her and make sure Raaj got the books she had found for him.

Her mind had been so filled with questions and plans that seeing the plateau on the horizon as the sun began to rise surprised her. Ahead, she could see that an army was preparing to attack the entrance to the plateau. Between the two armies, a contingency of men was engaged in a conversation while they sat on their horses.

Brelyah landed in one of the trees surrounding their camp. She stayed in the tree watching to see if she could find movement in the camp. Off to her left, she could see Tristina and the horse she had ridden to the plateau. Alongside the entrance of Yron's tent, she could see his unmade bedroll. That is unlike Yron, she thought. Ky had watched her land in the tree and was walking around the base. Dropping to one of the lower branches close to the ground, she changed back to her human form.

Ky didn't react; he just pushed his head into her hand hoping she would scratch his ears. There was nothing pressing until Raaj arrived, so Brelyah entered the library in the cave. She wanted to make sure she hadn't missed anything she might need in the months ahead. While she figured she would still have access to the library, she didn't want to take the time to travel between her home and the plateau.

It was Sartura's sobs that awoke Yron from his sleep. Without opening his eyes, Yron could feel the reason for her tears. The King had died.

As he opened his eyes, Yron could see Sartura holding her father's hand. She kissed it as she held it close to her face. Tears ran down her cheeks and onto the dead King's hand. The room would have been silent if it weren't for the sobbing of Sartura and her mother. Across the room, two of the Healers were comforting the Queen. Yron rose, wanting to reach out to Sartura and provide her comfort by placing his arm on her shoulder, but that didn't feel right. If only I could disappear and not be seen, he thought wistfully.

Two of the King's guards entered the tent. Looking around, their eyes focused on Sartura and her mother. Once they assessed the situation, one of the guards positioned himself at the entrance of the tent, and the other guard left immediately. Minutes later, trumpets announced the death of a member of the Royal Family.

Yron returned to the cot where he had slept and decided it would be best if he just stayed out of the way. It was almost an hour before Sartura would allow anyone near her father. Kissing her father's hand one last time, Sartura slowly stood. She wiped her tears away and stepped forward. Addressing the room, she announced the death of her father. As she did so, she questioned the guard as to the whereabouts of the young maiggii wizard.

"He isn't here, and he didn't leave while I have been guarding the door," one of the King's guards explained to her.

Confused, Yron stood, "I am here," he said. As he made the announcement, he reappeared in front of Sartura and the guard.

"Why were you hiding behind your Invisibility spell?" Sartura questioned.

"I didn't... uhhh... I didn't know that... I was not trying to..." Yron decided it was best to stop talking, as he truly had no answer to give.

"You will come with me," Sartura announced to Yron as she reached for his hand.

As Sartura prepared to leave the tent, the trumpets sounded again announcing the arrival of a royal entourage. Sartura took a deep breath, "Not now," she whispered to herself. Stepping out of the tent, Sartura addressed the people that had gathered.

"My father, King Timon, has passed. A little over a month ago, my older brother was wounded in battle, and while he has breathed for these last few days, he is no longer with us. Darmuth, King Timon's youngest son, also passed away yesterday. I am the only remaining heir," Sartura explained.

"My coronation ceremony will take place after we have buried my father," she concluded.

Turning toward Yron, Sartura questioned if he was ready to cast the Inset spell. "I would rather bury my father, Prince Purstar, and Prince Darmuth altogether. It will be easier on the Kingdom," Sartura stated.

"It would be best if my Master were here, but if it is time, then it is time," Yron stated. "I will need your brother to be moved from the cot to a table, and I need to change." He continued, "I will return to my camp to retrieve some things."

Yron left the tent. As expected, two of the King's guards followed him. Not wanting to put up with an ill-tempered Tristina, Yron decided not to ride one of the King's horses back to his tent. Arriving at his camp, Yron expected to see an excited Ky bouncing to greet him. Instead, Ky wandered out of the library and stood almost as if he was guarding the entrance. Even odder, Ky simply watched Yron as he walked over to and entered his tent rather than engaging him in play. Yron shook his head in confusion at Ky's behavior and refocused on the task at hand. He had important things to do that couldn't wait.

Yron had never heard that wearing the clothing of a wizard or maiggii helped with the casting of a spell, but the attire did help him stay focused. And without focus, Yron could become distracted and lose the Inset, or something worse. It only took Yron a few minutes to get changed and grab his pack and one of the books he had been reading.

The walk back toward the King's tent was slow and deliberate. Yron glanced through the book. There were many stories about warriors, wizards, rangers, illusionists, weavers, etc. casting an Inset spell on an object as they were about to die, but Yron couldn't find a single instance where anyone talked about the actual spell.

For the past week, Yron had been focused on the casting of the Inset spell. He had developed several ideas about the actual casting, but he didn't have time to test any of them. His only choice was to cast the spell into the Inset box and hope they could discover a way to move the Inset from the box to an item after capturing the Inset in the box. Without the ability to transfer the Inset from the box to an item, removing the Inset from Sartura's brother's body and placing it in the Inset box would be a waste of time.

Sartura and her mother were sitting next to each other as Yron entered the King's tent. Both Darmuth's and the King's bodies had been removed. Prince Purstar was lying on the table, and several of the Healers were chanting in a final effort to keep him alive. Picking up the Inset box, Yron placed it in front of him on the table next to the Prince.

As Yron closed his eyes so he could have clarity of thought and complete focus, the thought came to him that he needed the sword with the white tree crest on it. Each time Yron attempted to start the Inset chant, the thought of the sword knocked him out of focus. Finally, Yron excused himself and walked over to where he had placed his pack alongside the cot he had slept in the previous night. After several seconds of sorting through the pack, he found the sword that he had retrieved from the dead man's hand back in the cave.

As Yron placed the sword on the table with Prince Purstar, he closed his eyes again and began to hum the rhythm of the chant. With each minute, Yron could feel all thoughts other than what he was focusing on in relation to the Inset spell evaporate from his mind.

When Raaj arrived at the entrance of the plateau, he used the Mind Talk spell to contact Brelyah. After Raaj called out to her, Brelyah left the library and ran to the edge of the plateau. She hoped to signal Raaj as to where she was without walking down the road to the prairie floor. As she climbed to the top of the stairs at the entrance of their camp, she saw Yron dressed in his best maiggii's robe walking toward the King's tent.

Brelyah replied to Raaj letting him know her location.

It didn't take long for Raaj and his Payleen to ride up the road to the plateau. Brelyah's happiness to see Raaj was muted by all that was happening. Now, maybe they could make sense of the events and strange happenings in and around the plateau.

As Raaj reached Brelyah's side, his first question was about his maiggii. "Where is Yron?" he asked.

"I just saw him a moment ago. He appeared to be heading toward the King's tent," Brelyah replied, pointing in the direction she had seen Yron walk.

Raaj slid off his Payleen, and the two of them started walking, then running in the direction that Yron was headed. "I have found several more books on the history of the white tree," Brelyah explained to Raaj. "But at first glance, nothing seems to answer the question we talked about before you left on this adventure for King Timon," Brelyah continued.

"Do you know if he has cast the spell?" Raaj asked.

"No," Brelyah replied, "but the King died this morning. Darmuth, his son, died yesterday."

Raaj slowed to a walk. After a few seconds, he dropped his head in complete sorrow, "There is no reason to cast the Inset spell,"

"There is," Brelyah said. "King Timon has a daughter."

"But..." Raaj started, but before he could even complete the sentence, Brelyah cut him off.

"This daughter can fight. I have seen her, and she is good. She is one I would never want to face," Brelyah said with a smile. "She is Arutras."

"Arutras?" Raaj questioned with his lip wavering in sorrow. "The Arena Arutras?"

Brelyah nodded, confirming Raaj's question. The two walked silently as Raaj's mind sorted through the new knowledge. "Let's find Yron."

One of the soldiers guarding the entrance to the King's tent – who had been with Yron, Sartura, and Brelyah in the tunnels under the plateau – recognized Brelyah and signaled her to approach. "Yron and Sartura are in the tent," he whispered. "I believe there is a ceremony going on inside. If you like, you can quietly enter, but stand by the door of the tent and wait until it is over." With that, he opened the tent door and let the pair enter.

Yron was beginning to feel the spell surround him. Inside his mind, a bright light erupted, and he could hear a different chant echoing through his mind – one that was different from the spell he had watched Grand Master Raajanaar cast. After listening to the new chant for a few seconds, something inside told him he needed to cast the spell he was hearing. He began to mimic the new chant. Each word of the chant opened his mind to greater enlightenment and more words for the new chant. The rhythm and cadence of the spell filled his mind, and with each new word that came to his mind, it became clearer as to what he was doing.

Eventually, the notes became words that Yron began to repeat out loud – words he had never heard before, words that had no meaning before he said them but provided a great understanding after they were spoken.

The words were coming faster and faster, and the rhythm of the chant was changing with each verse. Reaching down, Yron picked up the sword. As he did so, he shouted, "Purstar Timon, become thus!"

As he uttered the words, Yron collapsed to the ground. The light that was creating the rhythm of the spell had been replaced by darkness. Inside, Yron felt as though something had reached into his heart and stolen a portion of who he was.

Around him, he could hear people shouting. He could hear the words of Sartura and her mother. Was that Raaj? he wondered. Yes, he could hear Raaj and Brelyah. Their voices sounded like they were miles away, but it felt as if their words were being shouted through the portion of his heart that seemed to have been ripped out of his body by the spell.

Yron could feel hands picking him up – he was being placed onto something. Raaj and Brelyah were arguing. Raaj feared that Yron had died. Brelyah was demanding that Yron was still alive. Nothing seemed right to Yron, but then everything seemed possible. Soon, he was no longer able to hear the voices of his friends, but somehow, he could feel their voices and know what they were saying.

It appeared to Raaj that the moment Yron shouted, "Purstar Timon, become thus," something, almost like a trail of smoke, left the body of the King's son and entered the sword Yron was holding. But before Raaj could understand what was happening, Yron collapsed to the ground. Sartura and the Queen were the first to Yron's side. Sartura was demanding the Healers come and help.

Sartura's mother attempted to comfort her daughter as she knelt at the side of her fallen friend.

"Let's roll him on his back and let him have some air," Raaj suggested calmly.

Sartura turned to Brelyah and demanded, "Who is this man, and what is he doing here?"

"This is Grand Master Raajanaar. He is the Grand Master of the Wizards' Guild and Yron is his maiggii," Brelyah replied. "If anyone can save Yron, Grand Master Raajanaar can," she continued.

"Pick him up and place him on the table," Raaj ordered. As he spoke, Sartura nodded her approval, and the guards followed Raaj's demands. Raaj's hand traveled from Yron's wrist to his neck to find his young maiggii's pulse. There was no pulse, causing the normally calm Master Wizard to become frantic.

Grabbing Raaj by the arm, Brelyah pulled him away from Yron's body. "Let me check," she said. Placing her ear on the maiggii's chest allowed her to hear the slowest of heartbeats. "He is alive!" she cried. "I can hear his heart beating." Placing her fingers on each side of Yron's forehead, eyelids, cheekbones, and lips, Brelyah closed her eyes so that she could she could feel into his mind. "Yes, he is alive but exhausted," she proclaimed. "The energy requirements of the spell almost killed him. He needs rest. It will take him some time to recover." Brelyah announced.

"Yron will rest here," Brelyah shouted but realizing that she didn't have the authority to make that decision, she turned toward Sartura and her mother. With a quivering chin and tears rolling out of her eyes, she quietly whispered a request filled with the sorrow of her grieving heart, "Can he rest here?" The Princess and the Queen immediately agreed.

Once Yron was settled, Raaj and Brelyah found a place they could talk alone. "I do not know what happened here," Raaj started, "but I am sure the answer lies in the library and vaults at Valkreen," he continued.

Returning to the room where Raaj's maiggii was lying, Brelyah and Raaj pulled Sartura to the side. "We need to leave and see if we can discover, in the libraries back on Valkreen, what just happened to Yron. Can you watch him while we're gone?" The Princess slowly nodded her head.

"I hate to ask you this," Brelyah continued, "but do you remember how Yron fed his horse?" Sartura nodded again. "We need to leave his horse, along with ten others of the same breed," Brelyah said. "Would you mind making sure they are cared for exactly as you saw Yron take care of his horse?"

As an afterthought, Brelyah continued, "And Ky?" Brelyah added, "He is back at Yron's camp. They, Yron and the dog, have a special relationship. Ky will help Yron in his healing process. Can you please arrange to have him brought here immediately?

"I feel like we are imposing on you, requesting all this of you, but..."

Before Brelyah could finish, Sartura lifted a finger to her mouth and silenced her.

It was another day before Brelyah and Raaj said their goodbyes. Raaj had spent almost every waking moment sitting beside Yron. It was hard for him to tear himself away from his maiggii's side, but he knew he had his Grand Council meeting as well as an executive meeting for the Wizards' Guild. Brelyah had something she needed to do as well and time was of the essence. Raaj really wanted to move Yron back to Valkreen, but not knowing exactly what had happened, he was reluctant to cast a Teleport spell on Yron.

He had read on occasions that combining spells before the other spell had been completed could have disastrous effects. Not knowing what spell Yron had cast, or what had happened to his maiggii, prevented him from wanting to take any risk on Yron's life. The one thing Raaj knew, in his condition, it wasn't safe to move his maiggii.

After making sure Yron would be properly cared for, Raaj explained that it could take many weeks for Yron to regain the strength needed to travel. Sartura agreed to care for Yron while they were away.

As Brelyah and Raaj left the King's tent and headed back toward the rock cave library, Raaj whistled for his Payleen who followed them the rest of the way to the encampment. As they walked, Brelyah gave Raaj a report of her time with Yron. She explained how quickly his magical abilities improved, even the ability to command a spell with one word. Raaj listened quietly. These were things he hadn't taught Yron, nor was Raaj even able to cast some of the spells Brelyah described.

Yron was brilliant. If he had come across a spell book, both agreed that with some studying, he would be able to learn spells from the book. Raaj and Brelyah walked through the library in the cave. Indeed, Brelyah was right. There were books and knowledge here that weren't available in the main library. Raaj collected a couple of books and placed them in the stack of books Brelyah had sorted out for him.

He knew he had to be leaving for his Grand Council meetings, but before he left, he wanted to see the Silver Dragon... to see if he could help Brelyah make sense of what had happened. Placing his books into his pack, Raaj followed Brelyah down the road and out onto the eastern portion of the prairie. There, Raaj listened as Brelyah talked him through what she had found.

As Raaj looked at the other dragon's tracks, he turned toward Brelyah and asked, "Is it possible that the wizard was riding one of those mutilated dragons I saw?"

"That would explain a lot," she replied. "I need to get this Silver Dragon out of here. If you provide a screen, I believe I can teleport it back home." Brelyah continued, "When I am finished, I will make sure Yron receives the dragon stone from the Dragon's heart."

Raaj nodded and started to cast an Illusion spell that would create a barrier so that no one watching would be able to see what Brelyah did next. Looking at Brelyah, Raaj said, "Goodbye, my dear friend."

"Goodbye, my dear Raaj. I will see you soon," Brelyah replied.

With that, Raaj stepped back away from Brelyah giving her the space she needed. He always admired seeing Brelyah when she reverted to her true form. Red Dragons, Raaj thought, the most beautiful of all Dragonkind. Brelyah bowed her head, and then taking the Silver Dragon's head in one claw, she grabbed hold of the body with the other, spread her wings, and within moments she was gone.

Climbing on his Payleen, Raaj headed east. He looked back only once at the High Plains plateau. "Goodbye, Yron," he whispered.

# Glossary for the Land of Carbynarah Glossary

Arutras: (ar-uh-truhs) Yemenite. People's champion fighting in the championship games in Caprena representing the commoners.

Benflyn Dor: Plateau with cliffs reaching up over 400 feet from the prairie floor. The defensive position where the citizens of Carbynarah defended themselves from the attacks of Lord Malkanard during the Shadow Wars.

Brelyah: (bree-lī-uh) Hawkrider captured by Yron; became his traveling companion.

Carbynarah: (kar-ben-ar-uh) The world in which this story takes place. The world consists of 5 major continents and 7 minor continents. The world was created to be a world of magic where all life could participate in the use of magic.

Casfur: A magic orb forged by the Keepers of White Essence that allowed designated people to communicate with each other over long distances.

Celest: The soul of an individual.

Crowl: A magical dagger given to a wizard's maiggii when they obtain the rank of maiggii.

Darmuth: Yemenite. Prince Darmuth; second son of King Timon, 17 years-of-age.

Earth Flame: Fire elemental captured by a wizard or magical forger; used to forge magical items.

Essence Magic: Magic that comes from the essence of the White Tree. The pollen from the flowers of the White Tree creates the ability for all living things on Carbynarah to use and/or perform magic.

Familiar: A magically enhanced companion of a wizard. The attributes of the Familiar can be manifest through the wizard to which the Familiar belongs.

Grand Council: Governing council of mankind. Membership includes the Grand Master of each recognized Guild, Kings of the human kingdoms, and appointed Ambassadors.

Grand Master Glemmic: Wizard who fought Lord Malkanard to his death in the Shadow Wars. After Lord Malkanard's death, Glemmic was responsible for eliminating Malkanard's physical existence so he could never return to life. Grand Master Raajanaar was his maiggii.

Grand Master Raajanaar: (Raj-an-ar) Yemenite. AKA "Raaj." Grand Master of the Wizards' Guild and Grand Master of the Grand Council. Previously served as Grand Master Glemmic's maiggii.

Havendar: Member of the Rangers' Guild, assigned to the Kingdom of Yemenite and King Timon. Maiggii of Noblem; future Grand Master of the Ranger's Guild. Captured and turned into an arena slave, partnered with Tarrie.

High Plains: Located in the northern region of the continent of Nimarah and consists of32 kingdoms that all fall under the reign of King Timon. Benflyn Dor is located on the High Plains and was the site of the final battles of the Shadow Wars.

Inset: An Inset item is magically created when the skill and knowledge of an individual (their Inset) is captured and inserted into an item at the physical death of the individual.

King Holben: Leader of the Kingdom of Holben. Kingdom of Holben is just east of Yemenee and is one of the 248 kingdoms of the High Plains.

King Timon: Historically, his family was ruler of all Carbynarah. Through the ages, many kingdoms have broken off until he presides over the High Plains and rules over the day-to-day activities of Yemenee. Children include Prince Purstar, Prince Darmuth, and Princess Sartura.

Lord Baintor: (bān-tur) Yemenite. Lord commanded by King Timon to lead the first portion of the Yemenite army to protect the citizen's retreat from the castle at Yemenor. This army was ordered to move quickly to provide protection for the fleeing citizens until the main army could arrive.

Lord Canter: Yemenite. Lord that led the Yemenite soldiers dressed/masquerading as Shakarine; attacked the Warteen during the battle at Holben.

Lord Capnar: Yemenite. Lord commanded to lead the main army to provide relief and protection for the people fleeing from the Yemenite castle.

Lord Fanver: Yemenite. Commander of the Yemenite cavalry; wounded and presumed dead.

Lord Kimberlee: Yemenite. Captain of the Guard of the Yemenite castle; led the exodus of the people to Benflyn Dor.

Lord Malkanard: Natural Magic user that attempted to conquer Carbynarah. The War referred as the Shadow Wars was Lord Malkanard's attempt to reign over Carbynarah.

Lord Myningar: Yemenite. First Knight to King Timon; General of the Yemenite army.

Lord Og: Yemenite. Commander of the Engineers; responsible for the construction of the defenses of Benflyn Dor. Led the second wave of Yemenites to Benflyn Dor.

Maiggii: (mag-ī) A title given to a person who has accepted training to become a guild member. After the training period, may test to become a member of the guild and obtain the title of "Master." Maiggiis of the Grand Master of a guild replace their Grand Master after their Grand Master's death.

Mascar: A fair that tradesmen attend to select and/or hire apprentices for their trades. Guilds also use the event to recruit new members into their guild.

Natural Magic: Magic that is in the DNA of an individual. Only 5 or 6 people on the planet at any given time have total use Natural Magic; most have no idea they possess the power.

Nimarah: (nim-ar-uh) One of the 5 major continents on Carbynarah. The continent where the majority of humankind lives; consists of over 250 kingdoms.

Noblem: Grand Master of the Rangers' Guild. Serves as a member of the Grand Council and on the Executive Committee of the Grand Council.

Oracle: A specially selected guild member of the White Essence Guild acting as a medium through whom advice or prophecy is sought by those in need of guidance and direction. It is believed that Oracles no longer exist on Carbynarah.

Payleen: Magical horses that leave no marks on the ground because they do not touch the ground. They have incredible endurance and speed, serve only one master, and are used exclusively by wizards fortunate enough to obtain one. The wizard Payleen are hybrids that evolved over thousands of years from the horses used by the Warteen.

Prince Purstar: Yemenite. Eldest son of King Timon; seriously wounded by an ancient Inset sword at Rankor Thor.

Ranker Thor: Located in the northeastern part of the Yemenite Kingdom. Known for the high walls on the mountain pass which provided a perfect position to defend the northern part of the kingdom.

Sartura: (sar-ter-uh) Yemenite. Princess; daughter of King Timon.

Shadow Wars: A war lasting almost 200 years between the forces of Lord Malkanard and the Kingdom of Timon. The final stages of the war was fought at Benflyn Dor on the High Plains, where the people of Carbynarah retreated to make a final stand.

Shakarine: (shak-uh-reen) Located north of the High Plains. The kingdom was plagued by a tribal structure until recently when one of the tribal leaders united all the tribes under one banner. The Shakarine and their allies have mounted an attack on the kingdoms of the High Plains.

Tamar Wayne: The only entrance to Benflyn Dor.

Tarrie:(tar-ee) Warteen Princess and former Ambassador to Shakarine. Sold into slavery as an arena fighter and teamed up with Havendar.

Treaty of Carta: Treaty signed between the citizens of Carbynarah and the Wizards' Guild preventing the use of any magic that could be used to kill individuals. The treaty was signed after the Shadow Wars to prevent wizards from ever using magical warfare again.

Tristina: Yron's Payleen. Bay mare with two black socks on her front feet and a black streak down her nose.

Valkreen: Island off the west coast accessible only by the port city of Trysdar. It is the meeting place of the Grand Council and the Wizards' Guild. Hosts a library that is exclusive to members of the councils and guilds that meet on the island.

Verser: Raaj's Payleen. Black coated stallion with a long gray mane and tail with a gray mark on its forehead.

Warteen: Kingdom south of the High Plains. Female dominated society; allied with the Shakarine.

Yemenee: The northwestern-most kingdom of the High Plains; ruled by King Timon. Covers the entire western plains of the High Plains.

Yemenite: A person living in the kingdom of Yemenee.

Yemenor: The capital city of Yemenee; where castle is located.

Yron: (ī-ern) Maiggii of Grand Master Raajanaar; an orphan that Raaj selected from a Mascar to be his apprentice/heir.

Sneak Peek

# The Carbynarah Chronicles

# Book II – Chapter 1

"Hear ye... Hear ye... Hear ye... All those that have business with the Grand Council, please rise as the council members enter the room to be seated." The Herald pounded the gavel on the podium three times, and those in attendance rose. Seventeen of the thirty-five members of the Grand Council entered the room, followed by the Grand Master and seven of the twelve Executive Grand Council members.

The council members walked into the chamber in single file as assigned, and when they came to a stop, they stood behind their assigned seats positioned behind the long semi-circle table that stretched around the main floor. Behind each of the Grand Council seats, were five seats allocated to the contingency that followed each Grand Council member; behind them, two hundred and fifty seats positioned on a sloping platform for the gallery.

On a raised platform that extended before the opening of the semi-circle, was a long table with six seats on each side where the Grand Master sat. The Executive Council walked to and stood before their assigned seat; five chairs remained empty.

Grand Master Raajanaar stood behind the center seat. It was customary for him to take a moment to stand in front of his seat looking at and acknowledging each of the Grand Council members before sitting. Only after he was seated, did the members of the Grand Council sit.

After the Grand Master sat, the Herald announced, "The Grand Council is now in session. Please be seated."

The Grand Master couldn't remember a time in the last six hundred thirty-four years that he had presided as the Grand Master of the Grand Council that they had so many people in attendance. Not only that, but it had been over one hundred years since he could remember ever seeing a contingency from the Dark Elves, let alone anyone from the Arkenrea continent.

The Kingdoms of Carbynarah were concerned about the wars, the rumors of a reemergence of Warrior Wizards, and the training surrounding Raaj's successor. The number of new attendees made this obvious to Raaj. As the Herald read the names of the Council members in attendance and those that were accompanying them, Raaj's mind was caught in thoughts about the report he had prepared to give to the Grand Council members regarding the events of the last several months. In the back of his mind, he could hear the Herald announce each contingency in attendance at the Grand Council, but the names of the attendees quietly disappeared as the next name was read.

Across the table, Raaj could see Brelyah sitting next to Noblem who had just teleported from a special assignment in Shakarine. Raaj had attempted to talk with Noblem about Shakarine, but the normally talkative Noblem was unusually quiet. He knew Noblem might not be able to stay for the entire council meeting because his assignment in Shakarine might require a quick return.

The first two days of meetings at the Grand Council was mostly pomp and ceremonies. This year, with the country at war, Raaj had postponed the social activities and was going to deal to the real business facing the council. Additionally, Raaj planned to adjourn the meeting at noon today so the council members could meet privately. He hoped that if they held private meetings, they could more directly address the conflicts facing Carbynarah.

Raaj wanted to have a few minutes alone with Brelyah before the meeting started; it had been several weeks since they last saw each other on Benflyn Dor. She had returned home so she could better understand what had happened in the battle at Benflyn Dor. Watching her, Raaj could tell from Brelyah's response that she had received the news they were looking for about the Silver Dragon Yron had beheaded in the prairie battle at Benflyn Dor.

"Don't you agree, Grand Master Raajanaar?" the Ambassador from the contingency from Abunar questioned.

Raaj had no idea what the Ambassador had just asked. Picking up some papers he had in front of him, he looked up at the Ambassador.

Noblem, seeing Raaj's frustration, was quick to step in. "Ambassador Rodrick, we will address your concern in two days. If you look at the agenda, you will see that it is the third item to be discussed," he answered.

Raaj was thankful that his old friend had stepped in and saved him the embarrassment of admitting that he hadn't heard the question. He remembered the comfort Noblem had provided when Grand Master Glemmic had died and the role and authority of the Grand Master had been passed on to Raaj. He was inexperienced, and at the time of Glemmic's death, the members of the council had felt that Raaj was too inexperienced to take on the responsibility of the Grand Master.

Instead, the members of the Grand Council attempted to set up stewardship, which would have controlled the Grand Council until such time that its members deemed Raaj had matured enough to hold the seat. Noblem had stepped in and said, "NO." He was the only council member in support of Raaj as Grand Master at such a young age, and Noblem singlehandedly convinced the other members to take a chance on young Master Raaj. It had turned out well.

Noblem had been a great friend to Grand Master Glemmic as well. It was because of that friendship, along with the heroic efforts of Noblem that saved the Grand Master's life that the Wizards' Guild gave Glemmic permission to grant Noblem's desire to receive the Longevity spell.

After Glemmic's death, Noblem had stood at Raaj's side, defending Raaj as the rightful heir to the Grand Master's seat. Up until that time, Raaj had met Noblem, who was the Grand Master of the Rangers' Guild, on a just a few occasions but had never spent much time with him. The support and friendship that Raaj had received from the ranger, whom everyone called "The Celestless Ghost," was the foundation of Raaj's longest and most important friendship.

Seeing Noblem sitting next to Brelyah, reminded him that it was Noblem who not only negotiated for Brelyah's seat on the Grand Council but he had also introduced her to Raaj. Brelyah had become his second most-trusted friend on the council and one of his most fervent supporters.

As the contingency of Dark Elves was about to be introduced and seated behind their council member, Raaj focused on capturing their names. Lifting his quill to write them down, Raaj noticed the contingency from Darthnard, the desert region in South Braker, was next to be introduced. As the Ambassador of the Dark Elves was announced, it dawned on Raaj that the members of Darthnard were still wearing their native headgear that hid their faces.

Something was wrong. Before Raaj could do anything, the men from Darthnard ran forward. One of the men grabbed the Ambassador of the Dark Elves while three other men jumped on the platform and seized three members of the Executive Council. In an instant, they were all teleported away.

With the deaths of her father and brothers and the final preparation for their funeral still in being planned, Sartura was overwhelmed with her new responsibilities. If it weren't for Lord Myningar, who had taken the responsibility of dealing with the two enemy armies that were camped just beyond the entrance to the plateau, she would be completely overwhelmed.

With all that was going on, she felt the most important thing she could do was care for her wizard friend who had saved her life and was wounded while casting a spell that captured her brother's Inset and placed it into a sword. Nothing had really changed since Raaj and Brelyah left. Yron was still breathing but unable to awaken. There was nothing that the kingdom's Healers had been able to do, and while it appeared to Sartura that their chants and healing spells helped Yron sleep better, the healing spells didn't appear to do anything to help revive him.

Sitting in a chair she had placed next to his bed; Sartura's thoughts were interrupted by one of Lord Myningar's messengers. "Your Highness, we have received notice that a delegation from Warteen will be arriving tomorrow. They are requesting an audience with you. How should we respond?"

"Send for Lord Myningar," Sartura replied. "We need to discuss our options."

What in the world could they want? Sartura wondered.  Perhaps, she thought, it has something to do with the news I received this morning about the Shakarine army retreating from the battlefield and heading north.

As she peered out the front flap of the command tent looking at the caskets that held the bodies of her father and two brothers, she was not surprised that they hadn't received any requests from the other kingdoms on the High Plains for special accommodations for her father's funeral. The entire countryside was at war, and from the reports she was receiving, each of the thirty-two kingdoms that compromised the High Plains were under attack from one or more of their enemies.

With the break in the demands of the day, Sartura returned to sit with Yron while she waited for Lord Myningar. Gertoff, her father's personal Healer, informed her that the wounds the young wizard had suffered were not physical but were wounds of the heart and mind.

Sartura believed that Yron was getting stronger and stronger each hour even though those around her disagreed. Gertoff sat alongside Sartura and placed her arm around the young future Queen. "My dear," she said softly, "his survival is not about healing. It is about his will to live."

Sartura stared into the fire that provided the heat for the tent. Gertoff kept her arm around Sartura's shoulders as she began another of her healing chants. Normally Gertoff's chants were to aid the young man resting on the cot, but this time, she was chanting to provide rest for the young queen. Her healing chants provided comfort to Sartura. They were soothing, and the melodies washed away any immediate concerns allowing her the rest she greatly needed.

The guard entering the room startled Sartura. She realized she had fallen asleep resting her head on Gertoff's shoulder. Looking around, she could see Yron still lying on the healer's cot. As she stood, Gertoff got up and started to administer to the young maiggii. "I have a message that Lord Myningar asked me to give to you," the guard reported. "He will be here shortly."

The guard handed Sartura a small scroll then turned and left the tent. Unrolling the scroll, she saw that it was a request from the Warteen commander to officially be received by Sartura. She had never been one to pay attention to the protocol of the court, and now she was being crushed by the burdens of ruling over Yemenor.

Her mother used to help her father, but since Sartura had become heir to the throne, protocol dictated that she wouldn't be able to communicate with her mother for the next two years. Lord Myningar explained to Sartura; it was decided long ago that the newly coronated ruler was not allowed to associate with the previous ruler's spouse. This was done so the new King wouldn't be unduly influenced by their surviving parent as they learned the duties and responsibilities of their office. However, it was never taken into account, or even a consideration, that the new ruler would ever possibly be the daughter of the king!

As Lord Myningar approached the command tent, he could see through the window into the room where Sartura had Yron placed. From his perspective, he could see no improvement in the maiggii that she had befriended. With the loss of her father and two brothers, he was concerned that she couldn't handle the death of another who was close to her. He decided to would wait to approach her in the Command Center.

"Lord Myningar!" Sartura shouted as she was notified of his presence, "I need your help. All this protocol is driving me nuts," Sartura explained. Before she could continue, Lord Myningar stopped her.

"The situation with the Warteen is critical," Lord Myningar explained. "It appears they are looking for some type of treaty. Their ambassador and commander of their forces, along with several other prominent officials, are waiting below. I would suggest that we meet as soon as possible."

"I... can't... We don't have any—" Sartura was saying before Lord Myningar cut her off.

"I suggest we invite them to the top of the plateau, having them walk up the road and giving them an idea of how hard it would be for them to fight their way to the top of the plateau. Then we will allow them to see the catapults that are positioned for war and the archers that we have in place to cover the entire entrance to the plateau. We can then give them a ride from the plateau to this Command Center."

Myningar continued, "If you agree, I will be the one to suggest that they travel to the top of the plateau to meet with you. When we arrive, we will let them see you working with the city planners – determining your plans for a long-term siege, including planting crops and livestock management. We will gently interrupt your planning. Hopefully by that time, I will understand what they want. You and I can talk briefly, and then, you can address their contingency."

"This is certainly well thought out," Sartura replied. "Thank you for your foresight in helping me deal with this issue. I have no idea what I'm doing, my friend. But together, we will see the Warteen."

"One last thing; depending on how the meetings go with the Warteen, you might want to invite them to your coronation ceremony." Lord Myningar knew he was asking a lot; after all, they were allies with the Shakarine, and they were responsible for killing her father and brothers.

Not knowing what to say, Sartura smiled and nodded. "There is time to make that decision," she replied.

As Lord Myningar left the tent, he could hear Sartura giving orders to gather the advisors with whom she wanted to discuss how the settlement on the plateau was going to be governed in the future. As he climbed onto his horse, he could see the plans for the funeral services for the King and his sons were underway. As he rode off, a thought came to mind; perhaps if the negotiations could be extended, it might be valuable – if the princess could maintain her composure – to invite the Warteen to the funeral services.

Sartura watched as Lord Myningar rode away on his horse. He was the greatest general of her father's army, but she needed him for more. She wondered how receptive he would be to the new direction she was going take while leading this Kingdom.

Never again would her people be threatened with the brutalities of war. Her vision was to restore the Kingdom of Yemenor back to the times before the Shadow Wars, rebuild the castle here on Benflyn Dor, and make the plateau the center for government and commerce in the High Plains.

The meeting of the Grand Council was in chaos. People were running around the council chamber, guards were trying to secure the main council room, and the delegations had isolated themselves in a corner with weapons drawn and pointed at anyone who attempted to approach.

Three of the wizards in the council cast a Magical Shield spell to prevent people from either entering or leaving the Grand Council building magically. At each of the entrances to the building, guards with wizards were stationed and anyone who entered or departed needed to go through extensive screening, including but not limited to, spells that revealed their true identity.

Guards were searching the building corridor-by-corridor and room-by-room. Raaj wanted to call an Executive Session with the remaining Executive Council, but he was unsure what he and the two other members of the Executive Council could do. After all, only seven of the twelve Executive Council members had attended; three of those were kidnapped, and he had assigned two members to find and protect Cabara the Grand Master of the Conjitzu who was expected to attend but was still traveling.

By calling a special Executive Session, the Grand Master figured he would be able to provide an extra layer of protection for the remaining members of the Executive Council, and it would give him a chance to talk with both Noblem and Brelyah before they departed. Their first order of business needed to be warning and securing the remaining members of the Grand Council. In addition, he knew that the Executive Council would need to launch an investigation into the kidnappings.

Brelyah and Noblem was charged with finding out what happened to and bring Grand Master Cabara of the Conjitzu to the Grand Council building safely. The Conjitzu Guild trained in the ancient form of hand-to-hand combat. Some say that the stealth trained to the rangers, the Psionics abilities which are manifested purely by mental discipline and their ability to form themselves into different shapes without the use of magic, all originated with the Conjitzu. While there were fewer than one thousand members of the Conjitzu clan on the planet at any given time, they were considered the most elite of the elite fighters.

Thirteen-hundred fifty years ago, the Conjitzu Guild broke off from the order of the White Branch Guild and formed their own unique fighting style – one that used the mind, hands, and voice in unison to disarm and incapacitate their enemies. They took on the responsibility of protecting the White Branch Guild. Over the years, they played a significant role in protecting the safety of Carbynarah.

Grand Master Glemmic was the last known Wizard to possess the Conjitzu skills. Since that day, the Conjitzu hadn't allowed cross-training between clans. No one really knew how the Conjitzu selected their applicants, but the process took years, and once a person became a member of their clan, he or she could never return to live in society.

Raaj was once told by Master Glemmic that those who are chosen yet fail to become Conjitzu are used as the caregivers of their secluded society and never allowed out of the hidden fortress that was rumored to be located somewhere in the Alabastian Mountain Range. Once, when Raaj asked Grand Master Glemmic if the Conjitzu's fortress was in the Alabastian Mountains, it was made clear that there would be no information forthcoming. There was no doubt that the secret, if his master knew it, would never be shared.

Brelyah and Noblem were preparing to leave the Executive Chamber when one of the guards entered the room, urging Raaj and the other Executive members to examine what the guards had just found. The entire Executive Council members were placed under a Magical Shield as they were escorted to one of the many meeting rooms in the building.

There, hidden behind the conference table, the Darthnard delegation lay naked and dead. At the base of each of their necks, a small incision had been made which severed their spinal cords. The only identifiers that they were Darthnard were the tattoo markings on the back side of their left ear. The Darthnard marked each member of their kingdom with such a mark, and from it, one could tell who the person was and their status in society.

The tattoos were updated on a regular basis; there was a special mark indicating each promotion, award, or demotion of the individual. From the markings, Raaj could tell that the deceased Darthnard included the king's second son, the lead ambassador, and two sons of high ranking members of the king's court, but he decided to keep this information to himself for the time being.

# About the Author

"The thunder caused by a lightning bolt streaking across the sky brought Yron out of his bed. Magic! he thought."

In the opening line from his epic book, The Carbynarah Chronicles, Jon Franklyn, sets the stage for the reader's enjoyment as they escape to the land of Carbynarah, a world created specifically for magic.

Jon was born in the majestic San Juan Islands, in Washington State (ten miles east of Vancouver Island) surrounded by artists and writers. Inspired by the faculty at his local high school, including the cousin of Kurt Vonnegut, author of over 25 books and plays, Jon always dreamed of writing his own book. Graduating from Anacortes High School, Westminster College, and the American Institute of Applied Politics, Franklyn worked on several political campaigns before he started his foray into business.

His business career eventually led him back to writing. In 2010, Franklyn sat down at a computer and 90 days later he had written the first draft of Book 1 of the Carbynarah Chronicles. Years later, he picked up the keyboard and pursued his career in writing. Several books later, Jon contacted an editor and today you are enjoying the fruits of that labor.

