THE LIGHT OF THE PATH CHAPTER I The sun's early morning rays split the Eastern Peaks of Nordenland like bright banners through a column of rigid soldiers. The soft golden light burned triumphantly over the tall pines of a beautifully green forest and glanced a silent echo off a deep blue lake. The lake shimmered silently as a comforting breeze pushed against its glass like surface forming tiny wakes that lapped on the shore. The lake stretched out for miles, but appeared small in comparison to the large pines surrounding it. The pines were immense in height, some nearly a hundred feet tall and five feet thick at the base. They rose up like massive wooden giants, ageless guardians frozen in time. Serenity filled the morning, not unusual for Autumn turning Winter. Light splashing of the wakes against the shore of the lake marked the only static sound. Infrequently, an occasional rustling in the brush of a squirrel or other small animal readying itself for the forthcoming winter would intrude on the stillness. The sun rose higher above the peak shedding its soft light on the shores and embracing the western side of the pines. A bird chirped and a deer ventured from the safety of the forest to the edge of the lake, ears twitching, listening for any sign of danger. A sleek coat and trim legs hinted that the deer was young, perhaps two years old, and white patches on its hindquarters marked it to be a doe. Though young, she was not inexperienced and paused twice in the unprotected open area between the water and the trees to make certain she did not become feast for man or other wild animal. Hunters from the nearby town of Aubon would often frequent the forest and prowling wolves were not uncommon this far north. Apparently satisfied that neither presented itself, she continued to the edge of the lake and drank from the cool, clear water. Like a ripple across the calm lake, the breeze subtly changed. The change was more than in the wind, however, it was a feeling, and the doe sensed it immediately. Her muscles tensed and her ears perked sharply. She cocked her head and sniffed the air searching for danger. For a moment silence fell upon the forest as if in expectation of a great occurrence. It remained so briefly and then vanished like a forgotten thought. The typical sounds returned and the doe returned to her drinking. A faint cry broke briefly through the trees and the doe lifted her head and cocked her ears in the direction of the sound. Somewhat spooked, she fidgeted back from the water, all the while stretching with her senses, knowing that something lurked in the forest.. Then the feeling came again, only this time stronger and with a hint of animosity. Not hesitating, the deer bolted for the trees leaped a small bush, dodged another one scraping her flank, and flew into the forest like a frightened bird. Again the area around the lake went strangely silent all sounds seemingly snuffed out. The breeze ceased altogether. About a hundred yards south of where the doe entered the thicket a cloaked and hooded figure stumbled out of the trees and onto the shoreline, tripping and falling roughly to the ground. Trembling arms shot out from under the cloak blocking the fall, while dark hands scraped on the sharp stones imbedded in the grassy beach. Struggling to its knees the form hunched over in pain, rocking in an anguish more than any physical torment. A large hood covered any facial features and the cloak covered its body from the shoulders to below the knees, but the hands remained uncovered. Fists clenched and the knuckles turned white with pressure. Its body shook violently for several moments and then subsided. The hands disappeared back under the cloak. Rising to its feet, the cloaked figure looked back toward the trees and turned north limping along the shoreline. Staggering back and forth like a drunken man the cloaked person made its way along the lake shore. Booted feet scraped the ground kicking up dirt, rocks and grass. Sunlight cut into the open hood revealing a bearded chin and a mouth tightly closed, but shadows hid all other features. The figure continued, now more than a quarter mile from where it had exited the woods. A loud crash erupted a half mile south on the same shore from where the hooded person stood. A large stallion smashed through the trees and out onto the shore line, branches fell about it and stones scattered as it ground to a halt. The horse's rider, a huge warrior clad in chain mail and a helm that resembled a tiger's head, reined it in. Turning at the sound, the cloaked figure looked toward the warrior. It stared unmoving briefly, then slowly pulled back the hood and removed the cloak, tossing it in a bundle to its side. A man stood where the cloaked shape once had. Not old, crippled, or bulky, like the cloak portrayed, but young strong and agile. A close cropped beard covered his face and his hair was long and straggly. His deep blue eyes whispered of fear, but his countenance was rigid and undaunted at the sight of the warrior. He stood unarmed and wounded. Two large gashes in his right side left stains of dried blood on his shirt and a broken arrow tip protruded from his right leg. Black clothing adorned the man. His shirt held tight about the shoulders and arms, but because of the cuts in his side it hung loosely about the waist. His dirty pants lay snugly against the lower leg, but baggy on the thighs and torn where the arrow penetrated. Heavily worn from travel, black leather boots covered his feet and calves. Sitting down exhausted the young man awaited the unavoidable confrontation about to take place. He eased his back against a bush behind him and released a sigh of pain. Four more horses burst through the trees, their riders reining them in behind the first. All were warriors garbed in the same armor as the first and wore tiger like helms. They had battle axes strapped to their backs and broadswords hung from their hips, delivering a grim spectacle next to the blue lake. Apparently the first rider led the group and stretched forth his arm, pointing toward the black clad man. The others waited anxiously for his command, the muscles of their horses quivering in anticipation, but instead of charging the leader reached down and clasped a medallion that hung at his chest. It was ebony black with ancient inscriptions inscribed onto the smooth surface. He held it tightly with one powerful hand and a soft red glow began to encompass both the medallion and his hand. As the medallion grew brighter, the leader's eyes appeared to glow red beneath the masked helm. Soon his entire head emanated a faint reddish glow making him seem out of focus in the morning light. Reaching out, the huge warrior touched each of his comrades' weapons. When his hand met metal, their weapons glowed bright red for several seconds before returning to a normal, dense gray. Faster than it had come the glow dissipated from the leader, except for his eyes that remained fluorescent red. For an instant the morning remained calm, quiet. Then they charged. Screaming out like banshees in the night the five warriors rushed forward. Notwithstanding they were better than a quarter mile from their target, they drew their weapons with fervor, grinning with the anticipation of wolves to a lame deer. Calmly, the black clad young man sat watching the oncoming foe, knowing this would be his stand. He shrugged dismally, turned his head and spat. Pushing all thoughts of escape from his mind, he fell into deep concentration. Sweat began to build on his face, his brow furrowed and his eyes closed, as he forced the fear from his mind and fatigue from his body. He rolled his head from side to side looking not unlike a puppet in a slight breeze. The five came on. The young man's body began to shake with the overcoming of his mental and physical wounds, but then went still. He opened his eyes slowly squinting in the light. The galloping horses were now just a few hundred yards away not slowing in the least. The young man saw the red glow of the foremost rider's eyes and raised his eyebrows in wonder. He came to his feet swiftly, bringing his arms straight out in front of him. Palms facing out, the man on foot looked as though he would attempt to hold the riders at bay with his bare hands. Indeed, all but leader slowed his mount to a trot, then stopped altogether. The four riders looked around in a daze. Perplexed at the thought of attacking an unarmed man they lowered their weapons. Noticing the dilemma of his comrades the leader reined in his great stallion and turned on them. His eyes glowed brightly. "Attack!" He roared, his voice a booming thunder in the stillness. The others snapped out of their bewilderment, but made no motion to resume the charge. "Your weapons! Raise your weapons!" The Leader called, pointing at their weapons. The swords and battle axes glowed red like before and the spell broke. The warriors raised their weapons and shouted with anger at the fax pas. They would not be fooled again. Rising up on its hind legs, the leader's stallion spun in place and crashed down; launching into a gallop. The other, now maddened, warriors followed close behind and the distance between the combatants quickly closed. Knowing that his was a formidable opponent, the leader would not risk any more delays. He would ride up and cut the other down with a single blow. It was only a matter of seconds. The man in black felt differently. At the failing of his earlier attempt to botch the attack, the young man brought his hands together, interlocking all but his forefingers. He raised his clasped hands up above his head and brought them down pointing at the leader. Then at the leader's horse. Weapons gleamed in the sunlight as the great warrior closed to within fifty yards of the young man. The thunder of horse hoofs filled the air. Just as it appeared the warrior would trample the young man the leader's great stallion balked and skidded to a halt sending the, fully armored warrior hurling over its head and crashing in a heap on the gravel-grass shoreline. The other riders reined their horses around the stallion and their fallen leader, bringing them to a stop in a half circle twenty feet from the black clad man. Rising to his feet as if he had merely tripped the large warrior stood. He reached over his shoulder and in one smooth motion drew a massive sword from its solid black sheath strapped to his back. The sword's handle and blade were dark black like the medallion. The blade gleamed menacingly in the sunlight. Slowly, he advanced on the other... ********** "Did you see that," whispered an excited youth, barely able to contain his voice from being heard. "How could I miss it, Pahl" replied his companion, just as quietly. "But he should have broken his neck at that get up. Flyin' off that horse like that." Pahl moved closer to the edge of the thicket, sliding on his stomach and pulling himself with his hands. "And he got up like he meant to take the fall." "Quit moving around. You're going to give us away." "Look at that sword," continued Pahl heedless of the other's prudence. "All black like soot. You ever seen a sword like that in Aubon? Or Gahlen for that matter." "Let's hope he doesn't decide to use it on us," was the candid reply. "Come on Pahl, we had better be off." "We can't go now, Derek," stated Pahl, looking at his companion as if he should have known better. "What of the man in black. He is unarmed." Derek was behind and to the right of Pahl, squatting on his knees and looking through the brush. He turned and looked at Pahl. "What are we supposed to do? Charge out with our hunting knives and short bows and cut them to kindling? Those are trained fighters Pahl, not forest rabbits. And when was the last time you saw fully armed warriors out here?" Pahl frowned at his friend's lack of enthusiasm. But actually, he had not seen any warriors travel through Aubon much less ones as ferocious as these appeared. The only fighters he had seen were free lance mercenaries in the city of Gahlen, but Gahlen was more of an Eastern trading town than a city. The two young men were from Aubon, out hunting the lake area. They had left their village before sunrise, but it took a few hours to reach the lake. They had not seen much game yet and were target practicing on trees and bushes when they heard the galloping horses and came to the edge of the thicket. They had arrived just before the large warrior fell from his mount. Pahl glanced up at Derek. "Look," he said. "The warrior is more than a match for that man in black, and I don't fix on lying here and watching him get killed." His face was a mask of determination in an effort to force his companion into action. Indeed, the warrior bore down on the wounded man, eyes ablaze and black sword held out menacingly. The young man did not move, nor did he retreat, but stood calmly in front of his opponent, arms hanging loosely at his sides. Seated atop their mounts, the four warriors waited. Without warning, the large leader swung his black sword in an arc. It came around in a blur of speed that would surely finish the man in black. He would be hewn in half like a stick before a sharpened ax. Amazingly, as if anticipating the move, the young man jumped straight back letting the blade cut through empty air with a swish. Recoiling from the miss the warrior brought the sword above his head in a small circle and swung it down in a forward lunge. Again the young man dodged the blow, diving to his right into a roll and back onto his feet. The large warrior moved in front of the agile man in black and brought up his sword. His voice boomed out with a strange hollow ring, "It is useless to continue your weak resistance, Retter. Your tricks will not help you now." He reached his right hand down to clasp the medallion and moved a step closer. The man in black watched him warily. His eyes fixed on the black sword. "Did you think that the Warlord would send someone weaker than the last? I will finish you like I have the others!" Emphasizing his point he lunged forward swinging his sword in a wild frenzy. The young man dodged the first two passes. Almost quicker than the eye could follow he leaned and bent out of the way of the terrible blows. At first it appeared he was too quick for his massive armor clad opponent, but with skill born from a harsh land of death and battle the warrior soon tired his prey. A short distracting feint with his leg followed by a harsh upper cut, caught a glancing blow on the agile young man's shoulder, knocking him sprawling into a bush. Blood poured down the young man's left arm as he tried to untangle himself from the bush. Desperately he crawled away as the warrior moved closer to finish him. Sweat and blood now drenched his black shirt. Severely wounded and tired, he knew now that he would not last against this attacker and backed away from the warrior searching vainly for escape. Moving in behind their leader the four other warriors closed on horseback. The leader, now stood right above the blood stained man, and raised his sword to deal the mortal blow. As he did, two tipless arrows struck the flanks of the closest rider's mounts. The arrows did not penetrate, but the harsh sting made the horses bolt. Riders, caught ill prepared for the sudden lurch, fell to the ground with a brutal thump. The two horses barreled into the leader from both sides, sending him flying into the same bush from which, the young man had previously crawled, banging his helmed head on stone. The sword flew out of his hand and stuck into the sand ten feet away. Startled by the bolting horses the other two horses began to buck, but then they too were smitten across the flanks by another assault of tipless arrows. Following the first two horses they bolted, sending their riders to the ground and trampling the ones who had previously fallen. Amazed, the man in black rose to his feet and looked about. He could see that the large leader had been knocked unconscious as well as two other warriors. The horses were still galloping down the shoreline except for the large stallion, and the two conscious warriors were groggily shaking their heads trying to figure out what had occurred. Then he saw them--two young men waving toward him from the trees. He shook his head, clearing it. They couldn't be more than seventeen or eighteen. What were they doing here and why had they saved him? "Come on!" One of them shouted. The man in black needed no more encouragement. Quickly he limped over to the stallion, grabbed the reins and with a wince of pain swung into the saddle. He kicked the sides of the horse and charged into the two men who were slowly coming to their feet. Knocking them to either side, he turned the horse around and galloped to where the two young men impatiently waited. In a matter of seconds he had ridden to where the others stood holding their bows. Without hesitation they jumped on the stallion behind the man in black. Kicking the horse's sides the man guided it into the forest at a trot. Soon they were in the forest dodging in and out of trees and bushes that seemed to buzz by even at this slow speed. "There is a small trail about a half mile south-east," said one of the young men. "Our horses are tethered at the edge of it." "What is your name?" Asked the man in black as he reined the stallion to the right barely missing a tree trunk and almost dislodging the others. "Um...my name is Pahl," replied the young man who had previously spoken, "and this is my brother Derek. Well, actually he's my adopted brother, but still my brother all the same." "Pahl, we don't even know the man," whispered Derek in foreboding. Derek looked older than Pahl with straight brown hair and a muscular build. While Pahl, only a few months younger looked more like a year or two because of his curly blond hair and slim stature. Saying nothing more for a few minutes the three concentrated on skirting the bushes and trees and staying on the horse. The big stallion could accommodate them but only with difficulty and even after a quarter mile it began to sweat. When they slowed to a walk Derek said, "We need to stop and bandage your shoulder. That was a nasty blow he gave you. And that arrow tip must come out." "We'll stop when we reach your horses," replied the wounded man. "Until then keep a watch for the five. They must not catch us." "No one could catch us now!" Exclaimed Pahl, a big smile crossing his face. "Did you see how we disarmed them. It will be hours, perhaps days before they round up those spooked horses." "Don't be too sure," came the reply. The man in black was not at all certain of how long it would be before the five were back on his trail, but he knew it would not be long. He started to say something more, but instead fell forward onto the horses neck dropping the reins. Pahl, who sat behind him, held him from falling while Derek jumped off the horse and grabbed the reins. Pahl lowered the man down from the horse with the help of Derek and they set him against a tree. Derek delicately pulled the shirt off and applied several pieces of cloth from both of their shirts to the wounded man's shoulder, binding the makeshift bandage in place with leather string used for tying game. Then they did the same with his side wound, but left in place the arrow in his leg. The local healer in Aubon would have to take care of that. Leaning back the young men grinned at each other, feeling like they had really accomplished something worthwhile. They had felt miserable for most of the summer working at a fur trade in Aubon with Pahl's family. Derek's parents had been killed by bandits two years previous when a caravan heading to the capital became targeted. Armed mercenaries accompany most caravans and a volunteer group of hunters called the Eastern Brigade routinely patrol the roads. Under the command of the Duke of Gahlen, this force kept raiders and robbers under check. Since the death of Derek's parents Pahl's family had adopted him. The two young men did everything together, including the hard chores. The work at the trade had occupied most of their summer. Derek took a piece of cloth and after dampening it applied it to the unconscious man's face and forehead. He wiped away the dirt and sweat and checked the bandages. They did not look good. "Pahl," said Derek. "This man has a serious fever. There's something more wrong with him than the wounds." Pahl didn't have a chance to answer. The man awoke with a start and looked at Derek and Pahl and then at the bandages. He touched the wounds lightly with his finger tips and then attempted to get up but to no avail--his strength all but depleted. "How long have I been out?" Asked the man and without waiting for a reply he said, "Help me up. We've got to go." The brothers looked at each other, concern mirrored on their young faces. "Help me up," repeated the wounded man. "I think you should rest a bit more," said Pahl. "And I think you should help me up before my friends arrive and there is no longer a need," said the man with a weak smile. Lifting the man to his feet, the two brothers helped him over to the stallion and into the saddle. They picked up their bows and pouches and secured them to the horse behind the rider. "Who are you?" Asked Derek genuinely curious as to the man's humor in such a devastating situation. Had he been subject to such an attack he would be anything but humorous, much less eager to ride horseback with an arrow in his leg. But the man didn't seem to mind and that amazed him. "I am many things," responded the man. He paused contemplating how he might tell them who he was. "Yes, many things," he repeated. "None of which you are likely to understand. But if you are asking for a name, I am called Hawk." "Hawk," said Pahl. "You mean Hawk the Wanderer?" "The same," said Hawk. Derek gave Pahl a questioning look so Pahl explained his knowledge of the man. "A Northern Dwarf mentioned you when I bought some boar skins from him. He said you helped him out in a pinch one time. Said you were pretty much a loner with no friends." The man raised his eyebrows at that last comment and Pahl thought that he might have been too bold. Then he smiled and Pahl's tension eased. "Must have been that good for nothing Podez," sneered Hawk sarcastically. "Haven't seen him in a while." Hawk leaned forward in the saddle fighting off the pain he was feeling. Derek took the reins and started leading the horse through the wood, while Pahl walked along side Hawk making sure he didn't fall off. Despite Pahl's earlier confidence that they could take their time the need of the Aubon Healer demanded swiftness. Hawk's wounds, despite his attitude were severe. CHAPTER 2 In a short time the rescuers and the man called Hawk reached other horses. With no sign of pursuit they started on the trail that would lead to a larger road to Aubon. Their progress remained slow due to Hawk's condition, which became steadily worse. By the time they had reached the larger road noon had passed and Hawk slouched down in his saddle. Hawk's instability forced the brothers to ride on either side to keep him from falling. Several times he slipped off the saddle caught by Derek or Pahl, who struggled to steady him. Derek had gone back more than once to leave false tracks and cover their own hoof prints. It was a difficult task and the hours it took to get to Aubon were troublesome. Even so, Derek insisted on making their trail difficult to follow for the safety of the residents of their town. The warriors they saw could easily have comrades and his town did not have a militia to defend itself. A small town, Aubon prospered mainly as a trading depot. It had one inn that served as a stay over for hunters and travelers to Gahlen, and a small tavern where hunters could share news of the current events. Lying on the Eastern side of the Kingdom, Elves and Dwarves frequently stayed in town. Prejudice against other races never developed this far East. Much different than its existence in the larger, mid-regional cities. The three rode into the small village like a ragged band of peddlers. All were shirtless and dirty. Hawk by far the worse looking, lay over the neck of the stallion as if he were dead. A few of the locals stared at the them. Familiarity at the sight of the brothers turned quickly to suspicion of the wounded man. Derek and Pahl paid them no heed and rode directly to the Aubon Fur Trade. They arrived as a little girl came through the front door carrying a small white rabbit in her arms. She looked up as the two climbed down off their mounts. "You're home early, aren't ya?" Asked the little girl, her big brown eyes looking up at them. Then she saw the wounded man on the stallion and dropped the rabbit, bringing both of her tiny hands to her mouth. "Oh!" She squeaked. "Listen Tania," began Pahl, "go and fetch Bardoff. Tell him we have a very sick man and he needs help. Can you do that for your brother?" "Yes, but I have to catch Stannered first," replied Tania. "We'll catch Stannered," Offered Derek, "but you must be quick." "I will," she promised, skipping off toward the Healer's residence. Derek tied the two smaller horses next to a water trough outside the Fur Trade, while Pahl secured the stallion to a poll. Together they pulled Hawk down from the large horse, and haphazardly carried him through the front door. "Father!" Shouted Pahl as they entered the trade. A young woman walked into the room carrying a knife in one hand and a rolled deerskin in the other. She brushed back her long brown hair with the forearm that held the knife. She had lovely facial features; blue eyes, a dainty nose, and thin red lips creased in a smile. "Pahl," said the woman and then saw the wounded man he and Derek carried. "Who is that man? And what happened to your clothes?" "His name is Hawk, Mother, and he is very ill," replied Pahl. "And where is Father?" "Your Father is down at the river with Bojax Freed. They're cleaning some new skins." "We sent Tania to fetch Bardoff," said Pahl. "But until he gets here, maybe you can help Hawk." "I'll do what I can." She set the knife on a counter. "Bring him to the guest room, and I'll get some clean cloths and healing salves." Carrying the unconscious, wounded man to the guest room, the two brothers carefully lay him on the bed. He had been sliding in and out of consciousness since the ride back, but now he lay deep in sleep. They adjusted a pillow under his head and waited for their mother. Returning with a bucket of water, clean cloths, and salve, the woman knelt next to the bed. She placed the bucket next to her feet and dipped one of the cloths into it. With the wet cloth she gently wiped the dirt from the man's face and from around the wounds; carefully taking off the makeshift bandages to keep the wounds from reopening. She worked quietly applying salve to the leg and shoulder wounds. Derek and Pahl stood by watching sheepishly as their mother replaced their poorly constructed bandages with clean well-positioned cloth. Pahl turned as he heard a deep voice in the front room and the sound of the door opening. "What's all this gibberish about a man half dead?" The comment resembled that of a grumpy old man. "Go tell Bardoff we're in here," said Pahl's mother as she continued in her work. Both Pahl and Derek went into the front room to get the Healer. They came through the hallway and saw him standing next to Tania. He was nibbling without interest on a piece of dried meat. Bardoff was a plump, old man dressed in a brown cloak tied by a knotted rope around his large belly. His gray hair was thinning around the crown of his head beginning the makings of a bald spot. He held a cloth satchel in his hand and leather pouches hung at his waist, connected to the rope. Presumably, nuts and dried meat filled the pouches, for the man was not one to go long distances in search of nourishment. Upon seeing the two brothers, the portly Healer patted Tania on the head and said, "Sweet Tania here has told me that you are in need of my services." When he mentioned of the young girl's name, the grumpy Healer's voice had turned soft and gentle. Eyeing the two young men a frown returned to his face. He had obviously been pulled away from some important business, probably his lunch. "Show me where he is," commanded Bardoff in a deeper, stronger tone. "And Pahl, fetch me some bread and cheese. A man can't work on an empty stomach, you know." "Yes, sir," was Pahl's only reply, though a hidden smile lay beneath his dormant lips. Pahl left the front room of the trade and went into a back kitchen area with little Tania in tow. Derek showed Bardoff where the wounded man lay unconscious. The young woman greeted Bardoff with a smile and stepped back to give him some room. "Hello, Maggie, it looks as though you have a bad one here." "Yes. He's definitely in poor shape," agreed the woman. "What do you think of that arrow? I didn't want to touch it until you arrived." The large Healer moved in closer to the wounded man's leg. "Well, let me have a look," he said. Kneeling next to the bed, Bardoff carefully inspected the arrow that protruded from the unconscious man's leg. He touched it lightly and a groan broke from Hawk's lips, though his eyes remained closed and his breathing soft. Reaching into his satchel, the Healer pulled out a wooden bowl and spoon, two large, green leaves, and a small yellow root. He placed the two leaves cross ways into the bowl and put the yellow root on top of them. With the spoon, he crushed the root into a paste; folding the leaves over and mixing them. After thoroughly mixing the root and leaves the Healer opened two of the small leather pouches connected to the rope at his waist. Using both hands he withdrew a small amount of powder from each one. One powder was shiny black and the other looked to be nothing more than sand. He mixed the two powders into the paste and added a few drops of ale from a bottle in the larger satchel. "Now, when I apply this mixture to his leg he'll come awake. I want you to let him drink from this bottle," instructed Bardoff. He handed the bottle of ale to Maggie. "The mixture will deaden the pain and keep infection out," he continued. "The ale will help him sleep once we are finished. Derek hold his leg steady." Derek moved in next to Bardoff to get a good grip on the leg. Pahl returned with the requested food, but Maggie had sent him out to help Tania find her rabbit. Pahl did so without objection. He knew that someone needed to occupy Tania's time to keep her from disturbing the Healer. He felt a little dejected, however. After all, he was the one who devised the plan to save the man called Hawk. He knew Hawk better than anyone else. The Dwarf Podez had told him about the loner from the Westland. Yes, he should be the one to help with the healing, not baby-sit his younger sister. Tania was searching behind some large wooden barrels in front of the blacksmith shop, when Pahl saw the rabbit. "Over there, Tania!" He yelled. "He's by the stables!" Tania looked up. Pahl and she ran down the street to where the rabbit was hopping into the Horse Keep. The Keep had a fenced off yard for horses to roam and a dozen stables. It was into the stables that Stannered decided to go. "Wait here while I go in and fetch him," said Pahl. "You might get hurt amongst all those horses." "I'm not afraid," said Tania defiantly. "Wait here," repeated Pahl and he walked into the stables. Two young men, about the same age as Pahl, were working with the horses. One was cleaning a hoof and the other was feeding the horse a carrot. The one with the carrot looked down and noticed the rabbit nibbling on his soft, leather boot. He picked it up by the ears, showing it to the his brother. "Well, looked what we `ave `ere," the one with the rabbit said. "Looks like supper to me, Erik," said the other. Pahl saw the two and stopped. "That's my rabbit, Erik," he said. "Oh, is it now?" Replied Erik. "looks like its takin' kindly to me. Ain't that right, Peck?" Dropping the horses hoof, Peck stood up next to Erik. Both of them were larger than Pahl. They wore knee high boots covered with horse dung and their dirty breeches were more horse hair than anything else. Pahl knew this wouldn't be easy. These two were mischiefs, pranksters, and bullies. If they weren't harassing him, it would be someone else. They had moved into Aubon with their Father who rarely came around. He spent most of his time in Gahlen trading horses leaving his son's as basic independents. Taking a deep breath Pahl tried again, "its my rabbit. Just give it back, okay?" "We'll give it back when we're good and ready, bunny boy," taunted Peck taking a step forward. He felt confident knowing that Pahl's Father and Bojax Freed weren't around. "Maybe we'll feel inclined to give you the rabbit if you tell us who that man was," said Erik. "The one you and Derek were helpin'." "That's none of your business," said Pahl. "Besides, I don't know who he is, anyway." "I think you're lying, bunny boy!" Growled Peck. "I think that you're the fool who put that arrow in his leg." "I was not!" Said Pahl, trying to keep his voice from going high. It was useless to argue with the two. This was getting nowhere. They were much too big for him to fight and if he didn't leave now the choice would not be his. Peck slammed the sharp point of the hoof cleaner into a stable board, and stepped closer to Pahl, raising a fist. Pahl shoved him back, but Erik walked up next to him, grabbing him by the shoulder. "Let go," said Pahl, pushing Erik. Erik dropped the rabbit and it hopped out of the stables. "You made me lose my dinner," he sneered. "I'm gonna have to teach you some manners!" Without another word Erik slugged Pahl in the stomach, doubling him over. Pahl stumbled back, coughing at the quick loss of air. The two larger men laughed and leaped on him, pulling him to his feet. Erik grabbed him by the hair and pulled his head around to face him. "You got somethin' to say, bunny boy?" Erik asked with a wry smile. "Apologize for disturbin' us, runt!" He shook Pahl hard. "Apologize, I said!" "I'm...I'm sorry," Pahl gasped. "Not good enough!" Shouted Peck with glee, hitting him hard in the face. Pain lanced through Pahl's head. He fell onto his back. Tears came to his eyes, blurring his vision, and blood ran from his nose. He tried to sit up, but a foot landed a kicking blow to his shoulder, sending him into a pile of hay. "If you want to act like a horse," said Peck, "you might as well smell like one." Picking Pahl up by both arms, the two dragged him over to a pile of horse manure. Together they tossed him headlong into it. The manure was wet and oozed about his head and arms, fully soiling his tunic and breeches. Erik and Peck brought him to his feet and threw him out of the stables and onto the street. "Better go home and wash up," was the last thing that Pahl heard. Pahl lay in the dirt street for a moment before sitting up. He wiped what he could of the manure from his face, chest, and arms. He wondered where Tania had gone and then reasoned that she must have gotten the rabbit and gone back home. A horse and rider came by. The man on the horse commented, "Better quit playin' in the horse dung, boy. It's not the best way to catch a girl." Real funny, thought Pahl. Then he thought about how he must look. Like, well...like crap. He managed a small smile. What had he gotten into over that stupid rabbit? And the man in black? What did Erik and Peck care about who he was? He had never gotten along with them, but it had never come to blows. The pounding in Pahl's face and nose broke his thoughts. His stomach didn't feel too well either. The stench wasn't helping. It didn't take him long to get on his feet and head down toward the river. Perhaps he would see his Father and tell him what happened. He quickly discarded that thought. It was humiliating enough being beat up by Erik and Peck, and ridiculed by the townspeople, without letting his Father know what a fool he was. Only a few people noticed Pahl and probably none recognized him as he made his way down to the river. He decided to go further downstream than normal, so he wouldn't chance meeting his father. Taking off his boots and trousers, Pahl waded into the cold water. He quickly washed the horse droppings from his face, hair, and chest. Even though the water was cold, the breeze and the afternoon sun dried him soon enough. When he was completely dry, he dressed and headed back to the Fur Trade. Most of the people in Aubon lived in a cabin next to a stable, or a shop connected to a house. Pahl's family was no different. He had lived in Aubon all of his life. When he was a small boy the family had started the Fur Trade directly from his house. Together with Derek's parents, they had eventually remodeled the Trade into a custom Fur shop; delivering furs as far as Gahlen and to all the towns round about. Because the roads had become so infested with bandits, it was nearly impossible to deliver or receive goods. If it hadn't been for the Eastern Brigade all travel and trade would be virtually non-existent without a company of armed guards for protection. Pahl took a different way than normal to the Trade. No sense in having another run in with Erik and Peck, and getting pole whacked twice in one day. He approached the Fur Trade and took a second look at the big stallion that had saved their lives. Awestruck by the size and power of the horse, Pahl ran his hand along its neck. He had never seen a horse so muscular and well defined. He laughed at the thought of going riding down to Erik's stable and riding right over him. He slapped the horse lightly on the neck and walked to the front door. He heard voices inside and moved closer, but did not go in. "...all I know is what Derek has told me," came a voice Pahl quickly recognized as his mother's. "Well, there's no possible way those were outlaws, Maggie. Did you see the stallion? That is a war horse." Pahl decided the second voice must be Bojax Freed. It had a deep resin tone to it that only Bojax could own. "And no band of outlaws would chance riding around on a warriors stallion for all to see," finished Pahl's Father. "I just don't understand what a group of skilled fighters would want with the wanderer." "Unless he stole something from them," offered Bojax. "From the way Derek described them, they are definitely from the South. And if that's true, you must be housing a crown thief." "When he's well, he'll be moving..." the pounding of hoofs muffled the voices and Pahl casually turned to see who was coming. It was Derek riding bareback on one of the mares. The horse slowed to a trot and Derek leaped off. "Where have you been?" He asked. "Tania's been back for over an hour and I got to fearing those armed men." "Nothing to worry about," replied Pahl nonchalantly. "I found Stannered and then went down to the river to get father." "Well he's back," stated Derek flatly. "And he's not too happy about the wanderer being under our roof. It's not that he's mad about what we did, just more concerned about his condition and what the other's might mean. Who knows Pahl? I mean, what if they follow our trail here and find the stallion in front of the Trade?" "I don't know," answered Pahl, "but they're talking about it right now so we might as well go in and see what we're going to do." Together Derek and Pahl entered the Fur Trade. The discussion between the adults stopped as they came in, but resumed when Pahl inquired on the status of the wanderer. Maggie informed him that Hawk was asleep and would remain so for a day or two. The Healer was not at all sure he would survive, but conveyed that he showed an unusual inner strength that would most likely pull him through. Again they examined questions and answers on a possible solution with the stallion and the wanderer. The four adults, including Bardoff the Healer, questioned Pahl and Derek in detail of the mornings encounter with the warriors. It became readily evident and accepted by all that the armed men were not thieves or soldiers, but mercenaries--soldiers for hire-- most likely from the South. That posed an awesome threat since it was rare that southerners were ever seen this deep in the Kingdom of Nordenland- especially fully armed ones. Bardoff suggested it would be wise to notify the Duke of Gahlen and the Eastern Brigade. He volunteered to inform them. Since he was already on the town council it wouldn't be difficult and the council could send a message to the Duke with the next caravan to Gahlen. Someone could inform the Brigade when they made their monthly visit to Aubon. They were due in six days. A major problem arose when discussing the stallion. Obviously, they could not keep it out front. If the owner happened to come into Aubon, all questions would be quickly answered upon seeing the stallion. Bojax suggested selling it to someone heading to Gahlen or just an ordinary traveler, but Pahl's father did not want to put such danger on an unwary buyer. It would not be a pleasant surprise if he were to chance upon the southerners. Other recommendations were made about the horse and the points were argued until they finally decided to keep the stallion behind the Trade. The main reason being the wanderer's need for transportation when he was ready to go. Everyone seemed eager for him to leave, except Pahl. The man called Hawk intrigued him. He wanted nothing more than to learn about him and why he was now here. CHAPTER 3 In the three days that followed the arrival of Hawk the wanderer into Aubon, appearances changed among the simple villagers. Where unconcerned traders and hunters would sell their goods and talk freely at the local tavern, now the locals cast a wary eye toward all visitors and almost all the men carried a weapon of some sort. Flagrant gossip caused this, spreading after Bardoff had confided in the town council. Naturally, the council members felt a need to tell their spouses and their spouses their friends until the stories ran unchecked. Stories and rumors were not anything new in Aubon, but this time physical evidence stemmed the tongue of uncertainty. To most, a wounded man harboring at the Fur Trade gave ample credibility to exaggerated anecdotes. Many had tried to visit and verify their curiosity of him, but were quickly turned away by Maggie or the Healer. The man had still not returned to consciousness and to the townspeople he became an enigma. Although most residents returned to their labors, some of the more raucous would demand to see the wounded man and upon refusal they would quickly accuse the family as liars or harbors of a criminal. Some would even threaten to inform the authorities in Gahlen. The townspeople considered Derek and Pahl veritable heroes and asked them more than once to share a drink at the tavern and relate the ever elusive story. Most often they would respectfully decline. Pahl, seeing a window of opportunity, would try to weave some tale into the selling of his family's furs. This became lucrative in the short run, but after a few days and more than one skeptical eye his sales tapered off. On the fourth day after Hawk's arrival, the excitement died down under the front of a small storm. Starting as a light shower and building into a heavy downpour, the storm began to turn the streets to mud. Rain coupled with muddy streets kept most travelers at the inn and a good number of locals behind closed doors. That evening Hawk awoke. He had stayed in the guest room since Derek and Pahl had brought him there. Because of his condition the family had not moved him to one of the smaller rooms. The family made frequent visits, but apart from his restless stirrings he had not come out of his slumber. Tania happened to be in the room this time, staring at the man as he opened his eyes. "Where am I?" Came Hawk's slow, dry and barely audible voice. Tania, standing near the door, ran to where he lay. "Oh, you're awake," she said smiling. Hawk's eyes, somewhat glazed and blurring his vision, looked in her general direction. "Yes," he said swallowing against the dryness in his throat. "I am awake. Where am I...and...and who are you?" "I'm Tania," she said. "And you're in my house." Her voice was soft and disarming, bringing a smile to Hawk's face. He blinked several times clearing his clouded vision and spoke slowly, "Well Tania, if this is your house, could you bring me a cup of water?" "Uh huh," she replied and ran out of the room. "Wait!" He tried to yell, but his voice was too weak and she had already run down the hall. He wondered of the two boys who had brought him to this house. No matter, he thought. He would find out soon enough. Taking a deep breath Hawk let his eyes slide closed. "Mama," said Tania as she ran into the den where her family and Bojax Freed sat talking in front of the fire. "Just a moment, dear." Tania's mother was busy mending one of Pahl's tunics. She was concentrating heavily on a corner stitch. "Let me just finish here. There. Now what is it, sweetie?" "The sleeping man wants some water." Pahl and Derek look at each other, jumped up, and headed for the guest room. The others followed, with Maggie putting down the tunic and her sewing materials and Bojax Freed following her. Bojax Freed stopped short of leaving the living room, went back to where he had previously sat and retrieved his sword. Tania stood alone in the room. "What about the water?" She asked with arms stretched out and a frowning face. She hesitated, then followed her family. "Your awake!" Said Pahl and Derek simultaneously as they burst into the room. "It would seem so," replied Hawk, opening his eyes. "But your alive! I mean, you’re not...well, we thought that..." "What he means," Derek cut in, "is we're happy to see you well again." "I don't know if you call lying here in pain well, but thank you," said Hawk. He stirred, adjusting a feather pillow more comfortably behind his head. "Sir," said Maggie. "I can get the healer to come by. Maybe he can do something about the pain." "That's all right," replied Hawk. "It's not that bad. Some water would be fine though. And please, call me Hawk. I am not a nobleman." Maggie smiled and left to retrieve some water. Pahl's father moved closer to the bed. He knelt down to converse at eye level. "That was my wife, Maggie," he said. "My name is Roshay Kempter. My two sons met you in the woods five days ago. You were hurt pretty badly and have been recuperating here." "My thanks to you and your family," said Hawk. "I hope that I have not caused any hardship." He noticed the sheathed sword in Bojax Freed's hand. "I am not dangerous, my friend. I could scarcely sit up, much less attack you." Bojax Freed set the sword aside and responded with a slight smile, "just a precaution. I am called Bojax Freed." Hawk smiled and nodded. Maggie returned and offered him the water. For the next hour Roshay Kempter and Bojax Freed explained to Hawk the last few days and what Pahl and Derek knew had occurred. Hawk in turn told the family what he felt they needed to know concerning the attack. He explained that they were simply Southern robbers he had the misfortune to meet. He did not want to frighten them by saying whom he really believed they were and what they really wanted...him. These thoughts taunted Hawk as he lay awake long after the Kempter's and Bojax Freed and left him to rest. He knew the attackers were from the South and that they were after him. He knew this, but yet, did not know why. What could anyone want with him, a waylander? A homeless traveler whose past was not much more than failure at the all but forgotten school of the Retter. Could it possibly have something to do with his training at the school, or some vengeance a particular instructor wanted to pay tribute to him. No, it was too long ago, thought Hawk. He doubted if anyone there actually remembered him. He had heard rumors of the academy's closure, but never took the time to investigate for himself. Still, the frequency and ferocity of the attacks demanded every possible consideration. He let his thoughts drift back to when the attacks first started. The first assault was hardly a threat since it seemed to Hawk as merely poorly trained thieves needing extra income. He had been on a messenger mission to the Duke of Gahlen and thought for a moment whether the attack pertained to his message. He discounted that immediately, since he had been carrying messages for almost a year and never had any problems with them. Then came the second attempt. He spotted them almost immediately upon entering the Spider Silk tavern in Gahlen. Heavily armed, with thick fur coats covering their leather armor, and strange helms that looked like tiger heads lying on the table next to each of them. It was the helms, more than anything, that gave them a rather foreign appearance. As Hawk walked closer to the men, one of them saw him and nudged the others. Without so much as a greeting they launched their attack, swords and knives flying. Hawk met them with the same fury using the ancient skills of the Retter. Skills that he had learned during his stay at the school. He dispatched one assailant almost immediately, but there were three left. If it had not been for the confusion among customers and pandemonium that broke out, Hawk would have been in serious trouble. It was the third and most recent attack that nearly took his life and convinced him there was a price on his head. A veritable high one at that. A group had followed him for two days after leaving Surik and then ambushed him. Hawk fell asleep still thinking about what the large warrior had said to him on the bank of the Silver Lake. Rain patted softly off the window the next morning when Hawk awoke. He was rapidly regaining strength and sat up in his bed, checking the bandages on his leg. The wounds in his side and arm were healing quickly, but his leg, where the arrow had struck, burned sharply. He touched the bandage lightly and winced. It would be some time before that would fully heal. And it might not fully heal at all, unless he did something. Something he had not done in several years. Hawk shuddered at the prospect. Knowing he must begin to use his skills more frequently and to in greater depth if he thought to challenge the force that wanted him dead. Lying back, Hawk closed his eyes and drew back within himself. Reaching for his inner strength and the power that he learned to use during his training as a Retter. He found it, shaped it, and used it to pull the pain from his leg. Deep in this inner spectrum he formed an image of a large and powerful horse harnessed to a great burning stone. Slowly the horse stepped forward dragging the stone away from Hawk. The stone fought back and flared. Fire lanced out from its core to burn the horse. The mighty struggle between the two began in earnest. White foam appeared on the horse's neck and back as it sweat with the strain of the pull. Soon the horse reached a large river. In a final effort, the stone sent a burst of flame engulfing the entire horse in crimson fire. Without slowing, the powerful horse continued forward, striding into the river until both horse and stone sank into the cool waters. A puff of white steam arose out of the river, dissipating into the air. Hawk opened his eyes and released a long, drawn out breath With the back of his arm he wiped the sweat from his forehead. Reaching down he touched his upper thigh where the bandages were. A smile crept slowly onto his tired face. No pain, he thought. Sitting up, he swung his legs off the bed. The coolness of the cedar floor on his bare feet refreshed him after the heat generating, traumatic experience overcoming the pain. He stood up and just as quickly sat down. The blood leaving his head and rushing through his lower body was too much, too soon. His head swam dizzily in lightness. It was always a strange experience rising after a sickness, but this was unbearably nauseating. Hawk rubbed his temples lightly with the tips of his fingers and rolled his head in a small circular motion. He stood up again fighting to control the faintness and sickness gnawing at his stomach and head. Regaining control he looked around the room, searching with his hands for a candle and some flint. He bumped into a small table by his bed, nearly knocking it over. Carefully running his hands over the top of it he found an oil lamp with a sparker. Turning a small knob on the lamp ignited the wick, bathing the room in a soft yellow light. Hawk blinked several times, allowing his eyes to adjust to new light. Looking around the room he saw his black tunic and pants mended and folded on a small dresser. Next to them were his stockings and boots. Sitting on the edge of his bed Hawk reached over and grabbed his clothing. He dressed slowly and with care. His wounds had miraculously undergone dramatic changes, but he did not want to chance another hardship by pushing himself. With the lantern in his left hand, Hawk opened the door of his room and walked into the hallway. He walked down the hall quietly, not wanting to wake the family. At the end of the hall he entered the kitchen. He was ravenous from the minimal food he had eaten and the expending of energy to stay his wounds. With a little searching he obtained two oranges and a small loaf of bread. Placing the lantern on the kitchen table he sat and began peeling an orange. Halfway through the first orange he stopped. For a brief moment he sat unmoving then resumed peeling, putting the inedible skin in a small pile. Behind him, standing in the shadows of the doorway stood Maggie and Roshay Kempter. They didn't speak, just waited, watching their enigmatic quest. Hawk continued until he had finished peeling the first orange. He held the uneaten orange in front of him and without turning said, "I hoped I would not have woke anyone." Roshay raised his eyebrows thinking Hawk had not noticed them. Maggie replied, "You didn't. Roshay and I normally get up early to arrange our furs before the store opens." Both the Kempters moved into the kitchen, sitting at the table on either side of Hawk. "I see you found breakfast?" Said Roshay with a questioning look. "I hope you don't mind," replied Hawk. "Surely, you have both been more than hospitable and generous to a stranger. I have lost my belongings at Silver Lake escaping the robbers, but I wish to work at your Trade for a time to repay your kindness." "I appreciate your offer," said Roshay shifting uncomfortably in his chair, "but I think it would be best if you were on your way." "When you feel well enough," interjected Maggie giving her husband a stern look. "Yes, of course," conceited Roshay. He wanted to add, `and you're looking quite well now,' but glancing at his wife he thought better of it. "Again, I thank you, and understand the danger my presence represents. I will be leaving today if possible, and as soon as I can I will send remittance for my stay here." "Today?" Questioned Maggie, "you can't be well enough to travel this soon. I know Bardoff is a fine healer, but he is not a Retter. And even if he were I don't think you would be leaving this soon." "Some heal faster than others," was all Hawk could say. The use of the term `Retter' startled him and he fumbled with his words. Roshay noticed his uneasiness, mistook it for agnosticism and said, "Oh Maggie, don't bring up the mystical `followers of the Path' again. We haven't seen a Retter around here for more than ten years. And you know the king has ended the order, closing the Keep for almost five years. At least that is what we have heard here." "I'm sorry, Hawk," began Maggie. "This is a sensitive subject to many people. With all the rumors of the fallen Retters and so forth, many people don't like to talk about the Path at all. Most of us in the East still cling to the belief in the eternal Path, but many travelers feel that we are religious fanatics." Hawk smiled. Even though he found the talk of the Keep and Retter unsettling, there was a comfort in Maggie's voice that calmed him. "Perhaps I should stay a day or two," he said. "Of course," agreed Maggie, cutting off the comment her husband was about to make. "We do have several skins that need cleaning, and if you're up to it, Bojax can use a hand repairing a leak in the shed." "I'm sure I can help," said Hawk. "Well now, how about some herb tea," offered Roshay. "It makes that hard bread a bit softer." Maggie got up to start the tea. Roshay started to stand and stopped when he felt a hand on his arm. Looking at Roshay Kempter with sincere determination Hawk almost whispered, "I won't forget your kindness, Sir Kempter." A moment passed as the two stared at each other. An odd sense of understanding passed between them and Roshay knew that whatever Hawk appeared to be, he was someone of unique background and talent. The use of `Sir' before the surname was not lost on Roshay. It was a noble term of the highest respect, leaving him the strong belief that this man would not forget. Before long the whole family was up and bustling about their chores. Pahl, Derek, and Tania greeted Hawk warmly as he cleaned skins. Maggie found him quite adept with his hands despite the shoulder wound and taught him how to cut and tether a rabbit skin. The rain kept up throughout most of the day demanding attention to the shed. Bojax and Roshay rearranged the wood in the shed so it would stay dry. Repair of the leak would have to wait until the next day. Twice during the day customers had come in. One of them, a portly cook from the Inn asked about Hawk. Maggie said he was doing fine and was working in the back. When pressed to see him, she abruptly told the cook if he wanted to buy something buy it, but if not then to leave. The cook left empty-handed. With the rain came the cool night air. The family sat around the fireplace discussing the repair of the shed for when the rain let up. Derek suggested that they connect an oiled leather tarp to a couple of poles like he saw in Gahlen at the market place. With the tarp in place they could work all day in relative dryness. Roshay considered it, but concluded that it would not be worth the effort unless the rain persisted. Hawk sat off to the side in mute silence. A victim of his own thoughts, he barely heard the family discussion. Hawk reflected back to the attack at Silver Lake, remembering the glowing red eyes of the warrior who faced him and the black sword that had pierced his shoulder. That warrior was not the average clansman from the South and his sword was definitely more that a great sword. When it cut him, it burned like fire to his very core. He knew if he had not had the training of the Retter he would have perished. Retter. The word stuck in his mind. That is what the warrior had called him. Yet, he was not a Retter. A Retter wore white, symbolically referencing the Light of the Path or center of their belief. A Retter also wielded the ancient Protectorates; some type of living stone cylinders with immense wisdom and power. He, on the other hand, dressed in black, which to himself signified shame. And he had never earned the right to hold Protectorates. There was some truth to the words, however. A Retter had trained him and he spent some time at the Retter complex, known as the Keep. But it had been many years since he was last there. He had not even given it much thought until the strange attacks began. Hawk let his thoughts drift to what Roshay had said that morning. He had said that the Retter were all but non-existent and that the king had closed the school of training and contemplation for Retter and that the Keep had been closed for almost five years. Could this actually be true? Personally, he had not seen any Retter since he left the Keep, but that didn't mean anything. He was a recluse, never spending more than a day in any town. He preferred the wilderness, and as such, was not privy to the general information that belonged to most. The Kempter family lived far East. News from the West would certainly be tainted by the time it reached any town east of Gahlen. Still, he needed to know. He had not planned to return to the Keep, but with no other real destination it was as good a choice as any. Maybe he would lose the band of Southerners. Or perhaps they would lose interest when they realized he was traveling into the heart of the kingdom. Whatever he did, Hawk decided, he must do it immediately. He had put the family and possibly the village in jeopardy by his remaining. He would leave before dawn. Pounding on the door of the Trade brought Hawk out of his internal meandering. Tania lay sleeping in her Mother's lap and Pahl and Derek adjusted a log on the fire. Bojax Freed and Roshay exchanged surprised looks and rose out of their chairs. "It's a little late for customers," whispered Roshay, as the two headed for the shop area. "Yes, it is," replied Bojax Freed. Reaching into his coat he brandished a small hunting knife. He turned it blade up, with the back resting against the inside of his forearm. He held the handle cupped in his fingers making it virtually invisible until needed. Roshay looked at him questioningly and he replied with a shrug, "an old bar brawl trick." The pounding sounded again as the two made it to the front door. Through closed shutters Roshay could see the illumination of several torches. With a slight hesitation he called out through the closed door. "We're closed for the night, the Inn is three blocks to the east." There were a few grumbles from outside, then a gruff voice replied, "open up, keeper, were are members of the Eastern Brigade. We are here on official business." Roshay looked at Bojax Freed, who shook his head. They both understood what this meant. The Brigade wasn't due in Aubon for at least another day and certainly would not be calling on him in the middle of the night. Either something serious was happening or these were impostors. Watching his friend bring the knife into a fighting grip, Roshay knew he thought the same thing...impostors. "Um, state the manner of your business," Roshay weakly improvised. Obviously there were Auboners watching this display or soon would be. If he could keep them out front long enough, they might not risk the attention. "Open up and we'll discuss it," replied the other. Then he added belatedly, "My men are tired and wet and in no mood for bantering." "I have a right to know your business, sir." There was a short silence and then some mumbling that neither Roshay or Bojax could understand. Then came the answer, "You are harboring a murderer and his accomplices." Roshay's eyes widened. "What?" He said. "We have been informed that a man in black is staying here and was brought into town by two boys. This man has killed one of our Brigadiers and escaped from the dead man's companion by the help of two boys." Roshay signaled to Bojax Freed who was already standing in the hallway that led back to the house. Bojax Freed knew exactly what Roshay wanted: to get the boys and Hawk out of the house and possibly out of town. Quietly he ran down the hallway and into the den. He tucked the knife back into his coat and grabbed two rain resistant coats that were hanging on wall hooks. He knew Roshay would stall the supposed Brigadiers as long as possible. This was a dangerous game they played and delay could mean death. Bursting into the family room, Bojax tossed the two coats to the boys. They caught them with astonished looks on their faces. He looked for Hawk, but the black clad man was not around. "Get your boots on, and put on those coats," he said crossing the room toward the kitchen. "And where's Hawk?" "I'm here," came the reply. Hawk was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, two satchels in one arm and a rain cloak in the other. "I take it we have unwelcome customers?" "What is going on here Bojax?" Asked Maggie. She was now standing in the middle of the room holding the sleeping Tania. "No time to explain," replied Bojax. "Hawk, I took the stallion down to the river. He's tied next to an old shed. There are several mares grazing in the area. Get the horses and make for Gahlen. Go straight to the Constables office. We will meet you there in two nights. After the Brigade arrives we will come." Hawk nodded. he turned toward Maggie. "The boys we'll be fine," he said. And he meant it. Without further word the two boys and Hawk went out the back door into the stormy night. Maggie visibly winced as the door shut behind them. She sat back down and tried to act casual. Bojax picked up the fire poker and prodded at the logs. They both could hear arguing in the shop and more than once Bojax Freed felt tempted to get his sword. He fought back the urge, knowing it would only destroy the deception. The voices grew louder. Footsteps pounded down the hallway and four wet, armed men walked into the room followed by a concerned Roshay Kempter. A casual glance at Bojax removed any doubt that the boys had left and Roshay stood more easily. "I told you that they left this morning to Rorshauk for rain canvas," said Roshay. "They won't be back until next week." "Then you won't mind if we look around," sneered one of the soldiers. They spread out, going into the kitchen and back bedrooms. "Hunny, what is this about?" Maggie asked in mock surprise. "They think Derek and Pahl were involved in a crime. Obviously a case of mistaken identities." Bojax Freed simply watched the men trudge around the house. He acted as though they had been intruded upon falsely, but added a touch of disinterest to alleviate suspicion. He now knew for certain the men were not Eastern Brigadiers. First, they had a look and demeanor of common soldiers or mercenaries, not hunters. Second, only one of them, the leader, wore an Eastern Brigade Hunters Clasp. And third, the Brigadiers were never this forceful in any providence of the Kingdom. If someone had committed a crime, they would let the local authorities handle the arrests. Bojax kept his observations to himself. If all went well, the soldiers would give up and spend the night at the Inn, leaving in the morning to Rorshauk. This would send them in the opposite direction of Gahlen. With any luck the real Eastern Brigade would arrive early and hunt this group down like rabid dogs. Hawk and the boys slipped out the back unnoticed. Several local residents were conversing with the armed men at the front of the Trade. Hawk prayed his luck would hold out. If they had guarded the exits...he left the thought unfinished. The three quickly made their way through the small field in back, across a side street and down a back road that led to the river. It was dark to the point of complete blackness, but Pahl and Derek knew their town well. They led confidently with Hawk a step behind. The two boys did not know what to make of the situation, fear and adrenaline pushed them. Hawk was sufficiently sure of their adversaries to maintain a level of confidence and quick thinking. He knew they were not the southern warriors from before, but most likely hired mercenaries of Nordenland, keeping the southerners incognito. They should not have any problem getting to the horses and then to Gahlen. Still, he would take precautions. They reached the stallion without incident. Hawk found the saddle in the old shed with some rope. He gave the rope to Pahl and Derek, telling them to round up two of the mares. Hawk was no horseman, but he had done enough riding to easily saddle and bridle the stallion. There were not any extra saddles in the shed, so the boys would have to ride bareback. In this country it was common for the less fortunate to ride without a saddle; they would not look like fugitives once they reached the main highway. Tying on the provisions he had prepared at the house, Hawk leaned back against the old shed. Somewhat protected from the rain, he waited for the boys to return. "We have found nothing, sir. They must be in Rorshauk by now." Three soldiers stood in the family room disgusted looks across their faces. Without a word the one whom the last soldier had spoken to, turned and stalked out of the room, the others following close behind. Roshay and Bojax stood at the front of the Fur Trade watching as the four would be Brigadiers met their companions. There were eight of them altogether. After a brief discussion with a town council member they climbed on their horses and rode in direction of Rorshauk, their torches flickering in the wind and rain. Most of the residents had gone home earlier, but the few who weathered the rain now sauntered back to their warm homes. The council member remained. It was Bardoff, the Healer. He walked over to where Roshay Kempter and Bojax Freed stood in the open doorway of the Fur Trade. "It appears are visitors are leaving disappointed." Both Roshay and Bojax shrugged. Roshay said, "You know, the Brigade isn't due here until tomorrow." "I know," said Bardoff. A smile creeping to his face. "I told our friends that very same thing. I guess they have urgent business elsewhere." Bojax raised his eyebrows and Roshay laughed openly. Roshay stepped out of the doorway into the rain. He looked to where Hawk and the boys would have gone. He started toward the river when Bojax grabbed his arm. "Don't worry about them," Bojax said to his friend. "They're in no real danger. After the Brigade gets here we can saddle up some horses and meet them in Gahlen. It will do them some good going on a night ride like this." "You're right, my friend," said Roshay. Turning to the Healer he said, "Why don't you come in for a cup of Maggie's famous herb tea?" "If she has some of those crumb cakes, I would be delighted," the Healer chuckled. "You know, dealing with riff raff can make a man hungry." Even Bojax laughed at his statement. The boys will be fine, thought Roshay. A late night trip to Gahlen and a few days on their own will give them good experience. He just hoped he could convince Maggie of his optimism. CHAPTER 4 It would be difficult to see anyone approaching while hunched over in a saddle. Pahl didn't care. He was already fairly drenched and if he sat up he would freeze. For the last two hours they had been riding along the small trail that led to Gahlen Highway. It had taken them almost an hour to reach this trail from the shed. Pahl had mentioned that they should just go back to Aubon and see if the men had left. Both Derek and hawk vetoed this, so he decided to accept the reality of riding for the next two hours in heavy rain. At least until they reached Crossroads Inn. To Pahl it seemed almost absurd to ride all the way to Gahlen because a few strange men showed up at their door. Especially in the middle of the night, in a heinous downpour. He almost laughed at the audacity. Who could be so compelling as to make his father act this foolishly. He would not have really cared if it wasn't so cold. He would have actually enjoyed a trip to Gahlen. But this was ridiculous and with every sloshy step his horse took, Pahl's mood grew darker. Long since overcoming his earlier fear, Derek now led his two companions toward Gahlen Highway with confidence. He had expected a confrontation since reaching the trail, but when none materialized he settled back and relaxed. This would be a long ride and there was no sense in remaining tense and tiring early on. Relaxed, he could tell Pahl was not liking the ride. He could hear him muttering to himself periodically. He smiled at this. Pahl was always quick to emotion. This self talking had become second nature to him when something upset him. And bad weather upset Pahl Kempter. Derek's smile turned somber as he reflected on the man they led; the strange man in black. Who was he really? Derek knew he was not the simple wanderer Podez the Dwarf dad described to Pahl. Derek had talked to Pahl several times about the man, but Pahl always contended that the wounded man was some mystical mage from the West. `Why else would it take five armed men to bring him down,' he would say. Derek knew better. Pahl was always a bit off when it came to logical thinking. The man was some type of con artist or thief. He spoke words much too elegant for a common robber, but he acted too reserved for a simple traveler. Yes, there was definitely something more about this man than meets the eye. Derek would keep that in mind. The man did not necessarily present a danger, but he could definitely be dangerous. Hawk watched the two young men riding ahead of him. They did not trust him, he knew that. He could sense the feelings of the one just in front of him. This one was upset, bordering on angry. Strange that he should feel the young man's emotions so strongly. Normally he would have to reach out his senses to perceive a persons feelings. He shrugged it off to his heightened perception over the last few hours. Again he had narrowly escaped a planned attack on his person. Lately, he had been using the skills learned years ago almost constantly. He had focused his mind to the point where every unnatural move caused him to jerk. After an hour of a constant nerve racking state, he let his mind and perception lower to where he now rode with ease and assured they were in no immediate danger. This led him to thoughts about his charges. Somehow in the next two days he would earn the trust of these two young men. He did not know why, but he wanted them to trust him, or at least not to fear him. He ascribed this feeling to a desire of acceptance. Being a loner, he rarely met a family like the Kempter's. If the group at the Fur Trade crossed his path and presented a danger to his companions they would be sorry. This remained highly doubtful, though. Bojax Freed and Roshay Kempter would most likely send them to Rorshauk or Barren. That meant he could concern himself less about a confrontation and perhaps teach the boys some travel skills once they reached the highway to Gahlen. After about an hour, the rain lightened to a drizzle. In the next, it had stopped completely, but the wind kept the traveler's cloaks pulled tight and hoods up. They had made it to Gahlen Highway and could see a flicker of light from Crossroads Inn several miles to the west. Pahl's mood immediately perked up and he goaded his horse into a brisk walk, passing Derek. "Slow up there, Pahl," said Derek, "the horses are tired." "No more cold and tired than we are," Pahl responded. Derek laughed at this, urging his mare to meet his brother's pace. For Hawk, this was not difficult. He had been holding back the stallion; its gait being much longer than the other two. A normal walk was all it took to stay even. At the quickened pace the three riders made good time to the Inn. They roused the stable boy, had their horsed tended to, and headed quickly to the front doors of the Inn. Above the two large doors hung a sign that swayed in the wind. It read, "Crossroads." Hawk pulled open the door to the Inn and led the boys into the smoke filled dining area that normally played the part of reception area at roadside lodges. Derek and Pahl were both surprised to see so many other travelers sitting at tables drinking ale and smoking pipes at this late hour. Hawk showed them special hooks next to the stone hearth where they could hang their soggy cloaks. There, they would dry out nicely allowing them warm dry clothes in which to continue their trip. He led them to an empty table and they sat down heavily. "What a ride," remarked Pahl. "I don't think I've been this cold since I fell into Silver Lake last winter." He smiled boyishly, which made a stark contrast to the scowl he held on the trail. He rubbed his hands together enjoying the warmth emanating from the hearth several feet away. A serving woman stopped at their table with two ale mugs in her hand. "What'll it be, gents?" She asked. "A stay and a dry is two coppers each, which includes brushing down your horses. If you like a room for the three of you, that'll cost ya two silvers for the night with breakfast come morn'." She shifted one mug to her empty hand, waiting for a response. "We'll dry, thank you," answered Hawk, "and a round of ale, if you please." "Right away, sir," she said, leaving the three to drop mugs off at nearby table. "Aren't we staying?" Asked Pahl incredulously. "No," was Hawk's response. "Why not? I mean, we might as well head back in the morning. Two silvers is a fair price, besides, where are we..." "We're not staying because your father doesn't expect me to use the money he gave on a nice Inn room," Hawk cut him off. "Besides, I intend on showing you how to make a roadside bed." "That's just great!" Pahl slumped in his chair. "Pahl, Father said to meet him in Gahlen. I think we should go there." Derek's forthrightness eased Pahl's temper. "We need a summer's end adventure anyway, right?" Pahl smiled at this. "Sure, who knows, we might battle those warriors again." "Keep your voice down," admonished Hawk. Through the hazy room he looked at the other guests. There were eleven others at tables scattered throughout the room. All intent on their own drinks or conversations, but Hawk didn't want any prying ears to start trouble. The serving woman arrived with the ale and Hawk handed her a silver piece. "Just remember," he continued quietly, "until we get to Gahlen, we must take this trek seriously. We are not far from the Southern border and times have changed in Nordenland, especially in this part of the kingdom." Hawk went on to explain just how dangerous it was on the open roads of late, how caravans of goods would never be without armed guards, and very few traveled alone. "But you travel alone," countered Pahl grinning. Hawk returned a wry smile, "Yes, and look what happened to me. You must understand, Pahl, in this very room there could be any number of outlaws waiting to hear our destination so they can ambush us." The boys shook their heads in understanding, but both thought their older companion was being a bit over cautious, making Derek wonder. "What about you, Hawk, what, or should I say who was chasing you at Silver Lake?" Hawk sat back raising his eyebrows. Both brothers had heard the explanation given to their family. He clasped his hands together, interlocking his fingers and resting them on the table. He looked directly at Derek, measuring the weight of his question. Derek met his gaze and after a moment dropped his eyes. "I know what you told my family, but Pahl and I were both there," continued Derek. He looked around the room carefully, then quietly added, "Either you stole something from them, or they are hunting you on an act of vengeance. Either way you are not exactly the road companion I would feel comfortable traveling with." Reaching out with his senses, Hawk studied the boy for a time. There was no mockery or contempt in what Derek had said. In fact, Hawk felt sure that the boy was barely able to speak so boldly, for fear of offending him. "You have spoken honestly and with courage, Derek," Hawk said, his eyes boring into the Fur Trader's son. "For that you deserve what answers I can give you." He related the earlier attacks and his opinion of them, how it was not until the third attack that he knew something was wrong. Two guests at a table near them got up and went toward their rooms. They appeared to be a man and wife. Hawk fell silent while they passed and then continued his narration. "After leaving Gahlen, and a tavern there in shambles, I thought to go up to Kreuz. I still hadn't gotten the winter supplies I needed, but I didn't want to stay in Gahlen and Kreuz wasn't all that far." The story entranced the boys, but Pahl spoke up, "Why didn't you go to the Constable then?" "Actually, I hadn't really thought about it," replied Hawk. "I assumed the foreigners were friends of the prior thieves and since I was heading north I didn't think they would follow me. When I arrived in Kreuz I found out differently. "Shortly after entering the lumber town I overheard two woodsmen talking about strangers who were seeking the whereabouts of a black clad traveler. They could only have been referring to me. I led my mule to a storehouse, bought provisions, and left immediately. "About a mile out of town I heard riders galloping behind me. I left the road and went into the forest. No stranger to the woodland I was able to lose them despite their horses and tracker. They did catch up to me once while setting a trap and I was forced into combat with two of them. I suffered sword wounds from that and later, because of my injuries, I was spotted in the open and took a crossbow bolt in the leg. The rest you know about." Their mouths hung half way open, the boys stared at Hawk with new found admiration. They couldn't understand why the warriors were after him or who they were, but that was irrelevant. Their boyhood yarns of outlaw and brigand came alive in this enigmatic man. Someone who lived the games that they only dreamed. "So, what will you do once we reach Gahlen?" Derek asked, genuinely curious. The serving woman returned to their table to refill their mugs. Hawk ordered some hard bread and sent her away with thanks. "After Gahlen I will go west to visit my old master, I think." "Then you are a Retter!" Pahl said excitedly. "I thought you were after the-" "I am not," Hawk cut him off sternly. "I have some knowledge and skills used by the followers of Light, but I am no Retter." This brought a barrage of questions from both Pahl and Derek, who had fantastic images of the Retter, mostly stories or fables told to them by their mothers. Hawk would not elaborate, however. Soon their bread arrived and their conversation degenerated to silence. As they ate, Hawk reflected again on his decision to return to the Keep. It had been ten years since he had left, and had not returned. Though he would never admit it, it was a matter of pride that kept him away. He had once studied the ways of the Path with an old Retter named Jeshur Baerd, when he was orphaned at the age of eleven. Jeshur had been somewhat of an Uncle to Hawk before Hawk's parents died of malaria. It was a natural transition for him to live with Jeshur when the other offered. Jeshur taught him the names of plants, trees, vegetation and their usage, the animals of the forest, letters and numbers, and times and seasons. At some point in their lives, most children in the Kingdom learn something of the Light of the Path as a way of living. Hawk was no different until he lived with Jeshur, a change that affected him dramatically. Jeshur taught Hawk the deeper doctrine of the purpose, sanctity, and preservation of life, weaving the belief that a Retter lives by into his lessons, and introducing the power a Retter wields for good purposes. All of these thoughts brought good memories and feelings to Hawk. Such good feelings, he had to force himself to bring forth memories that led him to leave the Keep. Memories of unworthiness and shame. So deep was Hawk into his own thoughts, he did not notice the boys get up and leave. When he looked up from staring at his bread they were gone. Quickly scanning the room he found them by the hearth, checking their cloaks. He watched them speak amongst themselves and smiled at their eager youthfulness. The serving woman came out from the back and Hawk caught her attention with a wave of his hand. "Do you have an over flow at this Inn," he asked. He was referring to the area an Inn uses for sleeping quarters when all the rooms are filled. An innkeeper would rent this area at a significantly lower rate. Hawk knew that all Inns had them, but his question really asked, `will you let us use it when all of your rooms aren't full?' "Yes," she answered. "Since it is such a late hour, you can all stay there for one silver. that will include breakfast and a bath." Giving her the silver piece, Hawk got up to get the boys. "It's through the double doors in the back. Just take a pillow and blanket from the wall rack." "Thank you," Hawk said over his shoulder. He walked to where the boys were and told them of his decision to stay. Leading them to the overflow, he showed them where the sleeping materials were. The area of an Inn's overflow is normally a hard wood floor with no windows. When guests crowd an inn, the overflow can get very uncomfortable, because everyone must make room on the floor to sleep. Fortunately for the three tired travelers this was not the case; they were the only ones in the overflow and had ample space to lay their mats and blankets comfortably. Crossroads Inn's overflow had a small window in one corner, but with the door closed the room was virtually black, putting the three companions quickly to sleep. Sunlight shining through the window woke Pahl up with a start. He sat up and ran his right hand through his hair. Yawning, he rubbed his eyes and looked up, out the small window. It was a bright day, the sun shining on the trees behind the Inn made him feel good. Pahl got up and shook Derek, who groggily awoke. Pahl looked to where Hawk should have been and was not surprised to find his blanket and mat folded and placed back on the shelf. He assumed Hawk had eaten and bathed already. The two brothers folded and placed their sleeping materials up on the shelf next to Hawk's and walked out into the dining area.. They noticed Hawk coming in from the double doors and crossed the room to meet him. He instructed them to eat and take a quick bath while he prepped the horses for travel. Feeling ravished from the night's excitement, they devoured their food with fervor, then quickly bathed and dressed. Refreshed from their sleep, breakfast, and bath, the boys were anxious to be on the road toward Gahlen. This was a new day and any disconsolate feelings from the previous night were long forgotten when they walked out of the inn into a sunny fall morning. Hawk was waiting for them atop the large stallion leading the two mares. With both mares brushed and bridled Hawk handed their reins to his young companions. The boys mounted and the three started down the well-traveled dirt highway toward Gahlen. The dirt was soft and in some parts muddy, but still easily traversed. They had barely left sight of the inn when Hawk mentioned, "We could easily ride back to Aubon, and likely have no troubles, but I have need of going quickly to Gahlen and thought I would teach you some outdoor skills along the way." He spoke matter- of-factly, without emotion. "Sounds great to me," said Derek. "Me too," echoed Pahl. "Good, I am grateful for your enthusiasm. We will start immediately then." Hawk drew his horse up short. "How many travelers left before we did this morning?" The boys looked at him, back at the inn, then down the trail. "I would guess four or five," ventured Pahl. Derek looked at the wet dirt and mud on the trail, trying to pick out the few tracks engraved there. "Looks like a couple of horses and a wagon," he said, "maybe two wagons." "Only two horses left before us," said Hawk. "But there are more tracks than that..." Derek started. "Yes there are," agreed Hawk, "but let me show you something." He climbed down from the stallion and the others followed. Walking a few steps away from the horses and kneeling down he motioned the two boys to him. When they were next to him he continued. "Look at the tracks closely." He pointed to the edge of a horse hoof imprint imbedded next to the line imprint made by a wagon. "This is a print of a quarter horse pulling a light wagon Eastward, possibly to Barren. Notice the mud pushed up at the front and the light imprint in back. That is how you tell direction. Most of these prints point east. On closer examination, you can group the prints and know who traveled with whom." He moved over to the left. "Like here. We have a goat, see the small hoof and light cleft and with it, a pony and two dogs." The boys looked on, amazed and exhilarated with these tracking lessons. They had been taught hunting techniques, but not for open road or for humans. Hawk described a group, possibly a family with a wagon, children, and three adults on foot traveled by the previous evening in the storm. He progressed to explain all the tracks, directions, and possible loads of each of the previous travelers in impressive detail. "But Hawk," interrupted Pahl, during an extensive discourse on the difference between a woman's boot print and a man's. "You said only two people left before us, yet you have noted more than ten are going west?" He looked at Hawk with a smirk that said, `try to explain that one.' "Yes, only two left the inn before us this morning, these others were made during the night and some of the lighter, washed out ones, yesterday." "How can you tell the difference?" Asked Derek. "Usually by the depth and clarity of the print," answered Hawk, "But that's not how I know." "Then how do you know?" Pahl asked, wishing he would dispense with the indirect answers. "I asked the stable boy before we left." "That's not skill!" Exclaimed Pahl. "On the contrary, it is," Hawk retorted. "Probably the best and most useful skill there is." He stood up and climbed back into his saddle. "You will find most of the information you need and want from a simple source; a lonely person eager for company. And remember, to know who is in front of you on the road can be very important." He kicked his horse into a walk and explained as he had the night before about brigands and the like on the highways of late. Hawk never told the boys who the two travelers ahead of them were. He was not sure himself, but felt a trifle concerned. The stable boy had said they were rough men who admonished him to keep quiet and prepare their horses quickly. The boy had told Hawk that these men left an hour before sunrise. This worried him. Normally, someone staying overnight at an inn would make full use of the facilities and not leave early thereby wasting their money. Also, the prints in the mud of the two men's horses were only an hour old at the latest. This meant that either they were waiting for someone or saw the three coming and decided to go on. Hawk resolved to keep a wary eye on the road and the surrounding trees and brush. As the three walked along the highway, Hawk pointed out various nuances to the boys. He showed them direction by the moss growing at the base of the pines, and edible berries and roots. The boys were aware of some of these techniques, having been taught them when they learned to hunt, but Hawk showed them a perspective of someone well traveled and knowledgeable of the land. Just under two hours after leaving the inn, the three riders rounded a bend and saw four men a hundred yards up the road. Two of the men sat in a wagon being pulled by a pair of horses. The men in the wagon began riding west in the direction of Gahlen, while the other two sat watching the three travelers approach. Both of them wore heavy clothing with long straggly hair held in check with headbands. One smoked a black pipe, sending small puffs of white into the morning air, while the other sat motionless. Hawk slowed the stallion to stop, the boys stopping on either side of him sixty yards from where the two horsemen were. "Hallo there," called out the one of the men. Hawk raised his hand in a half salute, acknowledging the man's call. He kicked his horse into a walk, continuing to where the two men positioned themselves. Hawk looked closely at the men, measuring their intent and demeanor. They appeared to be average travelers with all the belongings of someone heavily on the road, but their mannerisms gave more of a wary appearance than their smiles portrayed. They looked ruff and travel worn and Hawk guessed that they were either vagabonds or waylanders. He could not see any weapons, but they wore thick cloaks that might hide any number of deadly arms. He could not believe that either of these men were pilgrims or harmless travelers. "Can we be of assistance," Hawk asked warily. He had stopped further than necessary from these men placing some distance between them. Pahl and Derek remained silent, unsure of Hawk's caution. "Actually, yes," replied the man with the pipe, giving his auburn haired companion a nod. He held the pipe in his left hand and gestured with his right, pointing in a south-western fashion. "We are traveling to Yamet border town, and would appreciate some company, if you know what I mean." He gave Hawk slight wink. Hawk knew exactly what he portrayed to mean. Yamet was a ruff trading town between the kingdom of Nordenland and the Southern Clan and Baron communities. More trades would be finalized by a fight than any other form of agreement. Hawk suspected these men knew he would not be going to this town with two young men who looked like they rarely, if ever traveled abroad. He guessed that the pipe smoker meant to imply they wanted to increase their numbers to add safety to the journey. But these men were hardly the type to ask others to defend them. Hawk waited. The man with the pipe shuffled slightly at the lack of response. "What I mean to say is, would you be going in that direction? The men you saw just leave were on their way there, but didn't want company. Can you believe that? Not wanting company to Yamet?" He said the last with over emphasized incredulous. "No, we're not going to Yamet. Dangerous town, and we don't have anything worth trading.." "A shame," said the man, his voice carrying an awkward accent. "That's a nice stallion you have there, though. Looks southern, maybe from the Benkeek area. Would fetch a good price in Yamet. I could help you sell it there, for a minor finder’s fee." "I appreciate the offer," said Hawk, "but the stallion is not mine to sell." He knew the man was poorly trying to gain information from them, and that this could only mean trouble. "Good luck to you in Yamet." He shook the stallion's reins in an effort to continue up the road. The auburn haired man who had not spoken moved his horse into the middle of the road blocking Hawk. His companion holding the pipe gestured with his free hand, "Hold friend, perhaps we could simply travel with you to the cut off road?" His voice took on a hard edge leaving no false image that this was not a question. This made the Derek and Pahl shuffle uncomfortably on their horses. They looked at one another afraid to distract Hawk. Hawk did not fear these men, but rather feared any danger to his companions. His brow narrowed and he spoke with a commanding tone, slightly raising two fingers of his right hand and moving them from left to right, "Turn aside, friend, we wish to travel alone." The two men exchanged cautious glances and the one with the pipe chuckled uneasily, then said, "Sure, I understand the need for privacy. Just tryin' to make friendly conversation is all." The rider who had moved to the middle of the road now backed his horse to the edge, next to his friend. Both of them stared warily at Hawk, a mix of frustration and wonder etched onto their faces. Not pausing or speaking, Hawk led down the road without looking back. When they came around the next bend Hawk turned to the boys, "We are going to have to watch our backs now. Those men did not want to travel with us for the pleasure of it. They are waylanders, possibly Sojourns, but they didn't fit the description of the Sojourns I have met." "Why are they alone if they are Sojourns?" Asked Pahl. "I mean, I thought Sojourns traveled in large caravans, at least the ones I have seen do." "And they are usually wearing bright red or purple clothing aren't they?" Added Derek. "Yes, they are normally dressed in gaudy outfits, and they do travel in large family type groups." Answered Hawk. "But, sometimes they send out scouts or finders, as they call them, to seek the unwary or unfortunate traveler." Pahl looked somewhat taken aback, "I know Sojourns are not well liked, but I didn't think that they were thieves." "Not all of them are, Pahl. Some make an honest living from trading Southern and Northern goods, but most either swindle the unwise or outright steal from anyone they claim is intruding on their domain. And some send out these finders, who collect information and report back to the main camp about easy prey. These are the most dangerous for they plan and execute their way of life with professional precision." Hawk noticed that his listeners' eyes had widened and he toned down his narrative so as not to frighten his companions. He explained the life of a Sojourn as he understood it. That they traveled in groups consisting of brothers, sisters, cousins, aunts, and uncles who never really professed to be Northern Kingdom citizens or citizens of any country. They lived in Nordenland along the southern border, always traveling up and down the border, never really venturing deeply south or north. That is all he really knew since he had only traded with them twice and usually lived far north. Throughout the remainder of the day several Eastern caravans passed by and shared short conversations with Hawk and the boys. Most of the exchange had centered on weather and road conditions. The weather was warm but not hot with the sky clear except for an occasional cloud, the road was not muddy like the night before and the boys found themselves enjoying the ride once they had forgotten the uncomfortable meeting earlier that morning. Hawk, on the other hand, did not forget the two men and systematically looked over his shoulder from time to time, searching for the waylanders he knew must be back there. As the sun dipped behind the horizon to the west Hawk began to wonder if the men had actually followed them this far. They had passed the turn off that led to Yamet over five hours ago and had met with several eastern travelers as well as small caravan coming from Yamet and going to Gahlen. This caravan was two or three hours behind them now and would notice the two men if they were acting suspiciously. Also, they had passed a number of turnoffs to different locations that the men would be unsure which one Hawk and the boys might have taken. Unless these men were excellent trackers, they would never be able to sift through the muddled tracks crisscrossing the Highway. Still, Hawk's inner sense told him to be wary, and it was this sense that had kept him alive during the most recent part of his life. Dusk turned to darkness and Hawk dismounted leading his horse off the road and over to a clearing. The boys wearily led their horses to the clearing eager to rest after the hard days travel. It had been some time since either of the boys had traveled so far in one day and they welcomed the needed break. The group were still at least ten miles west of Gahlen and were just now seeing some the distant flickering lights of the local suburban farm houses. Hawk decided to make camp where they were and finish the trip in the morning. Tying the horses to some nearby branches the boys brushed them down and untied the travel bags from the stallion. They ate a meager meal and laid out their cloaks for sleeping mats. Hawk showed the boys how to strike a fire with root fiber twisted into twine and wrapped around two sticks. By stacking hard to find dry leaves together and wrapping the twine around a dry branch he pulled the other two branches back and forth causing friction on middle branch. Soon the branch was smoking and by blowing on it he starting the dry leaves burning. For the next ten minutes the boys mimicked this technique and started small fires that they quickly put out; one fire was enough for their camp. Pleased with their accomplishment they rolled up their fire starters and lay down on the soft earth. It was not long before the boys were quickly asleep. Hawk sat with his back to the fire, staring east along the highway. He couldn't shake the feeling that someone was out there just beyond his sight. For several minutes he just stared unmoving into the darkness, then thinking he was being over cautious on such a widely traveled road he lay down pulling his cloak over his shoulder. Hawk was a light sleeper and knew that his senses would wake him should the need arise. With that in mind he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep. A crunching of branches brought Hawk instantly awake. Though distant, his outdoor instincts told him that the sound did not belong to any forest animal. He peered out into the darkness, searching vainly for movement, but there was none. Where another might have thought they mistakenly heard something and quickly dismissed it, Hawk did not. He knew that someone, or something was stocking them and he would not be taken unprepared. Pulling off the cloak that covered him, Hawk rolled into a crouch in the chill night air. The fire had burned down to embers shedding a soft orange glow against the foliage. Quite as a cat Hawk moved away from the light into the darkness of a nearby group of trees. There he waited and watched. Now fully awake he flexed his arms and legs to loosen them, preparing himself for whoever waited just outside his vision. For several long minutes he waited and watched, but nothing appeared and only the normal sounds of the night echoed through the trees. Hawk looked to where the boys slept soundly, again wondering if he was being too hasty with his decisions. Thinking that he was bordering on paranoia he walked out of the trees back to the camp. As he walked he heard noises in the distance again. He froze, looking in the direction of the sound and listening with every fiber of his being. The sound was moving away. It was footsteps crunching quietly through pine needles about one hundred fifty yards across the road to the Northeast. Hawk didn't hesitate, abandoning any semblance of stealth he bolted across the clearing, out onto the road and into the brush on the opposite side, all the while listening to his prey grow louder in its escape. The chase was on and after a few minutes Hawk chastened himself for not untying the stallion Already his right leg was burning where the wound had not fully healed. He had to slow to a jog and then a walk as he brushed branches and foliage out of his way in an attempt to catch the infiltrator. He finally stopped and listened. He could hear the escapee still running, crunching through the forest, but now the sound was further away. Hawk cursed, thinking himself foolish for trying to outrun someone in the middle of the night in his weakened condition. Then he cursed again for not thinking clearly. He had not called on any of the arts he had used for years in these situations. He had acted blindly and foolishly in an attempt to catch a night stranger. Checking his bearings against the moon lit forest floor he headed south to Gahlen highway. When he reached the highway he realized his quarry had led him almost straight north with a slight turn east of his camp. It surprised him to learn that he had traveled almost a mile into the dense forest. Walking back along the highway Hawk thought about this late night chase. What had caused him to madly run into the forest without regard to what he found there? He discovered not surprisingly that it was his need to know what tracked him. Who or what it was that wanted him. He was growing tired of running away and wanted answers to his questions about the southern warrior. He doubted that the person he chased had any connection with the warrior, but he wasn't going to pass up the opportunity to find out what he could. The entire walk back he felt an odd sense that something was wrong. When he reached the camp these feelings were fully realized. The fire was completely black, covered with dirt. Hawk called for his companions and there was no answer. In the dim moon light he could see that the boys and all three horses were gone. With new found remorse, Hawk shook his head in quite despair. CHAPTER 5 At first it appeared to Hawk that the thieves were really after the horses. They had successfully led him away from the camp for this purpose and only captured the boys because they had not come with him. But upon closer inspection he could see that the boys professionally bound and gagged, then the horses were taken. This worried Hawk a great deal for only a ransomer or southern slaver would take the time to capture the person they robbed. Hawk was ill equipped to track the thieves during the night and physically unprepared to do so. He debated with the idea of waiting for Roshay Kempter and Bojax Freed before undertaking the search, but discarded it quickly, knowing that if slavery was involved time was of the essence. He also doubted that Roshay would do much good other than try to release his sons by force. He felt Bojax Freed would make a good ally if it came to a fight, but again could not wait for them to arrive. He decided to start the search at first daylight. ********** Pahl woke up confused, in pain, and in darkness. He didn't know where he was and struggled with the ropes binding his hands and feet. Recognizing he could not release himself, he tried to cry out only to find he could not with so much cloth stuffed into his mouth. He shook his head, wincing in pain from a blow he had received. He shifted his weight, trying to get reasonably comfortable on the hard floor where he was lying. The rocking motion and bumping told him he was probably in the back of some sort of wagon, riding on a rough road. Stuffed into a large canvas bag, he felt claustrophobic and thinking he was suffocating began thrashing around in the back. Receiving a hard kick to the shoulder Pahl heard a gruff voice say, "Quit moving around boy, or I might just slit your throat and be done with it." Fighting the phobia Pahl stopped moving and lay still. He thought about Hawk and Derek and wondered if they were alive. Unbeknownst to Pahl, Derek lay beside him, only a few feet to the rear. He was bound, gagged and inside a canvas bag, as was Pahl, but he was still unconscious. The wagon they were both riding in traveled quickly over the dirt road, a split off the main highway heading more south. The men who had captured the horses and the boys had remained quiet and purposeful, fully aware that the boy's companion would take up an immediate search when he found them gone. Now they relaxed, knowing that they had a great lead on the other if he was even able to follow their trail. "I told you it would work, Targ," said the man next to the driver of the wagon. He brought out a black pipe and stuffed tobacco into the end. With flint and steel he lit the pipe and inhaled deeply. "I knew the man in black would be easily tricked." "I think we should have taken him too, Sersh," said another man riding to the right of the wagon. "He would fetch a larger price on the market." "You weren't there when we met him," answered Sersh, taking the pipe from his mouth. "There was something about him that I didn't like." Realizing who had taken him captive startled Pahl. He couldn't hear their entire conversation, but the smell of the pipe and the mentioning of a man in black were enough. He shuddered at the thought of these men following them all the way from Crossroads Inn. What could they possibly want with Derek and him? He could understand the stealing of the horses, but what good would kidnapping do them, besides a quick hanging if they were caught. Pahl decided that whatever it was it wouldn't be enjoyable. He must try to escape when possible. He was sure it would not be difficult to get away once he someone released from the bag and untied him. He was young, agile, and full of confidence. As the hours passed, Pahl's optimism waned. He wasn't certain of the time, but knew that it must be nearing morning. He had tried to go back to sleep, but the uncomfortable banging around of the wagon made rest nearly impossible. At first it was difficult to breathe through his nose for such an extended period, but with practice, he was able to squelch the suffocating feeling that threatened to overwhelm him and he began to breathe more calmly. When the wagon finally came to a halt, light penetrated small cracks in the canvas that held Pahl. Pahl heard voices among a cacophony of noises from a seemingly large camp. He gave up trying to identify what he heard and where he was and simply wished someone would release him from the stuffy bag. Ruff hands grabbed hold of him and he was carried for some distance and tossed in a heap on hard ground. He heard the sound of something being tossed beside him and he struggled into a sitting position. The smell of cooked ham wafted thick in the air, penetrating the canvas surrounding Pahl. His mouth watered against the dryness of the cloth and he was finally able to push the cloth with his jaws to loosen the constriction and allow him breathe more easily. Suddenly the bag that held him opened and strong hands roughly pulled him out. He found himself inside a purple tent staring angrily at the two men he had met earlier on the highway. One of the men loosed the ropes on his wrists and ankles while the other untied and removed the gag in his mouth. Pahl held still not saying anything. The man who had earlier smoked a pipe placed a metal shackle on his right ankle. The shackle was attached to a chain that hooked a stake buried in the hard dirt. Pahl rubbed his swollen ankles, then massaged his wrists. He looked back at the two men and watched them open the canvas bag lying next to him. Derek fell out of the bag, still unconscious. He had a cut on his left temple and his arms were bruised. The men took no care in removing his bonds and they shackled his right leg in the same manner as Pahl's. "Keep quiet," ordered the man who had shackled Pahl's leg. "No one can here you here anyway, and unless you enjoy the mouth gags you'll not disturb the rest of the camp. Someone will be in here shortly to feed you and dress your friends wounds. Don't give them any trouble or you will be sorry." The man's dark tone was in mark contrast to his smooth conversation from the previous day. Pahl began to understand Hawk's caution of these men and his contempt for Sojourns. He was almost certain they were in a Sojourn camp. The loud, boisterous voices outside and the colors of the tent were two known traits of Sojourns. Pahl looked at his brother, hoping that he had not suffered any permanent damage. He crawled to where Derek lay and found that the chain gave him ample room to do this. First he checked the head wound and then the bruises on his arms. He imagined the wounds were caused by him waking up during the capture. After checking Derek over and seeing he couldn't wake him, Pahl began testing the quality of the shackle hooked to his ankle. The manacle was old, but made of cast iron and would need a chisel and hammer to remove without the key. He then tried pulling the stake out of the ground, but found that it was driven deeply and would also require some kind of levering tool to displace. With that he laid down and waited for the next visitor. "Wake boy, wake." Pahl opened his eyes groggily to find a young girl pushing on his shoulder. He did not remember falling asleep and starting to stand. When he realized where he was he sat back down. The girl had backed away and placed a plate of oatmeal in front of Pahl. She had tan skin and dark, almost black hair that she had tied into a long barrette. She had many bright ribbons of various colors woven through the barrette. She wore bright red pants a violet shirt, and deep red knee high boots. The contrast in colors amazed Pahl and he smiled at the girl. "Do you find me attractive," she said in a mock sultry voice. Pahl tried to keep from laughing. The girl was pretty in her own right, but she had misread what he was thinking. He had smiled because the odd situation he was in and the clothes the girl wore made a humoristic picture. "You make fun of me do you? Well, I am not the one chained like a dog. We will see who laughs later farm boy." She stared at him with evident contempt, arms folded across her chest and head tilted back. "No, I am not making fun of you, " Pahl tried. "I have never seen clothes like yours." "And..." "And they are bright and cheerful," Pahl continued lamely. "Yes, they are," She said smugly. "And that is why I wear them. Now, I bring you food and bandage for your friend. Eat the food. It gets cold. I will see to your friend." She knelt down where Derek lay and pulled out a white cloth from a small satchel. "Actually, he is my brother," said Pahl and immediately wondered if he should have divulged that information. "Your brother?" She asked skeptically. "He looks not like your brother." She first poured some water on his head wound cleaning it, then started wrapping the wound making a head band. "Well, we aren't actually blood brothers," Pahl clarified. "Yes, I understand. It is a lot like my peoples. We are considered a family unit, though not all are relatives." "You are a Sojourn then?" Pahl asked. He began eating the warm meal and felt much better. "It is enough talk for now," She said. "I will return later to check on your brother. Perhaps I will talk to you then. The Patriarch may wish to speak to you then, as well." She turned and left the tent. Pahl finished his breakfast, thinking about the peculiar girl. He noted her accent. It was rich, warm, and full of life, and he took a liking to this, despite his current predicament. He wondered for a moment who the Patriarch might be, deciding he was probably some sort of leader in the camp. For the next hour Pahl waited for the girl to return all the while testing the limits of his confinement and checking on his brother. He found that he could not reach the edges of the tent, but he could move five feet in any direction. The tent he was in was empty except for the constraints and it was difficult to tell what time it was, however, from what he could see it appeared to be almost noon. Pahl was lying back staring at the ceiling when he heard his brother moan. He looked over to see him sitting up feeling the bandage around his head. "What is going on, Pahl?" Derek asked drowsily. "Why is everything purple?" "We have been taken by a group of Sojourns," Pahl said. "Two of which are the same men we met this yesterday morning by Crossroads Inn." As an afterthought he added, "The tent is purple that's why there is a purple glow in here." Pahl crawled to where Derek was sitting and looked closely at his bandage. "Are you feeling all right, you were out for a long time." Derek nodded affirmatively. "I feel a little dizzy though." "Maybe you should lie down for a while then. Use my coat for a pillow." Pahl had removed his coat earlier for that purpose and handed to Derek. "Thanks." "Actually, I'm surprised they didn't steal this too, even though it is old." Derek lay back slowly. "It's probably not bright and colorful enough for them." Pahl stifled a laugh. "You seem to find humor at every occasion, Derek "Every chance I get," Derek agreed. He put his hands behind his head and closed his eyes. "So what of Hawk?" Pahl looked about absently. "I'm not sure. When we were taken, I was asleep and they had me bound and bagged before I saw anything." "Do you think they killed him?" Pahl turned his attention to Derek. "Maybe, I doubt it though. I mean, they were rough on us but could have easily killed us if they wanted too, so why kill Hawk?" "I don't know, maybe they have ties with those warriors." The tent flap opening interrupted the rest of their conversation. The girl that had brought Pahl breakfast walked into the tent and closed the flap. She moved over in front of Pahl. "I return as promised," she said, winking at Pahl. This brought a questioning look from Derek and Pahl's face flushed. Pahl stood up and Derek tried to, but nausea over took him and he remained in a sitting position. "Where are the two men who captured us?" Asked Pahl. "Isn't it dangerous for you to be alone in here with us?" The last was said with a hint of sarcasm. "I am the caretaker for sla...guests once they are in our camp," she said. "They tend to relax more around me." She gave Pahl a sensuous look that made him blush even more. "As for danger..." Almost quicker than the eye could follow a deadly knife appeared in her hand, and just as quickly was returned to a concealed place. "I am quite capable of handling myself," she said with a wicked grin. Both boys looked at each other astonished. Derek composed himself first. "Do you always treat guests with shackles?" "You may sit," she said to Pahl. Pahl sat down, crossing his legs and the girl did likewise several feet in front of him, then directed her attention to Derek. "You are lucky that you are alive. Sersh is not one to take prisoners when someone treads on our land." Derek rolled his eyes. Either this girl was ignorant or had a grossly warped sense of reality, "We were camped peacefully next to Gahlen highway in the Kingdom of Nordenland. We are Nordenlanders." "You were on our property," she repeated hotly. "How can you..." "Look," Pahl interrupted quickly, "we're sorry that we accidentally camped in your territory. My name is Pahl and this is my brother Derek. Thank you for the food and bandages. I am sure Derek is hungry. Could you bring him something?" "I am called Ti Anniomi," The girl replied to Pahl. "You may call me Tia." She gave Derek a dark look, then smiled back at Pahl, "I will bring something for your brother." She got up and turned to leave. "Tia," Pahl said stopping her. "What will happen to us?" "That is for the Patriarch to decide," she replied and Pahl noticed a hint of resignation in her voice. Turning, she opened the tent flap and left. Pahl and Derek both tried to look through the flap as she left, but could not distinguish anything. Derek looked disgusted. "That girl is crazy, Pahl. We have got to get out of here." He began pulling at the shackle on his ankle. "It won't come off, and I already tried the stake. We are stuck here Derek. Maybe we can convince Tia to release us." Derek shook his head dismally. "I seriously doubt that. She is a cunning little thief, Pahl. She is playing games with us." "How do you know?" Asked Pahl defensively. Derek stared at Pahl exasperated. "Do you really believe she thought we had tread on their land. Please." "No, not really, but what else could she say?" "Come on, Pahl, she is pretty and I can understand the attraction, but the first chance we get, we're outta here." "I know," Pahl agreed. "I just kinda feel sorry for her, is all." Reaching over and patting him on the shoulder, Derek remarked, "I know, but there will be plenty of time to feel sorry when we're free." A short time later Tia returned and offered the food to Derek who thanked her despairingly. She smiled at Pahl and talked to him briefly about inconsequential things and then left. Derek devoured the food and then he and Pahl began working on his ankle shackle with no success. The rest of the day went uneventful until the evening when the glow of torches reflected off the tents and Pahl and Derek could hear music, laughter and dancing. At one point Tia opened the flap of the tent and offered the boys a meager dinner and some cheap wine. Pahl asked what the celebration was for and Tia said that the camp celebrated every night for a week to usher in the fall. She asked Pahl in detail about Aubon and Silver Lake. Pahl was glad to answer her inquisitive questions that reminded him of his little sister Tania and made him forget his current situation. Although Tia was warm to Pahl, Derek could not help but to think she was solely trying to gain information from them, for what purpose he could only guess. He sat back and listened, keeping his distance. Tia soon left to rejoin her family and the young men lay down to sleep. The next morning Tia brought the brothers some breakfast and sat down to eat with them. She asked Pahl if he had slept well and he answered, "As well as someone chained to a stake can sleep." "I am sorry," Tia said and sounded as if she meant it. "I wish that it could be different. I do find your accent cute, Pahl." "Then why not release us," said Derek. "I am sorry Pahl, but I cannot," she said rather sadly. "I am Sojourn, it is tradition to follow the Patriarch and I may not leave, nor durst I disobey lest I jeopardize my standing in the family." "But.." Derek started. "We understand," said Pahl. "I too wish that we had met differently." They finished their meal in silence and Tia took the plates. She gave a new bandage to Derek and left. The rest of the morning the boys talked about how they might escape, but neither could think of a substantial plan. In the afternoon they tried learn what caused the commotion in the camp. Outside, the Sojourn camp was a mass of activity. The camp consisted of twenty to thirty tents varying in size, shape and color. Several men and boys worked at taking down and wrapping a number of tents. They would fold them into large squares and place them on mule drawn wagons. The stakes, ropes, and poles lay stacked and placed in wood crates. In the center of the camp surrounded by rocks was a large circular fire pit. A number of women basted a boar as it roasted on a metal rod and wafts of smoke from sizzling juices spewed forth from the pit. Other women set out eating utensils and plates for the upcoming dinner. Moving about the camp barking orders to underlings was the Patriarch. A large dark skinned man nearing forty years, he commanded and others immediately carried out his directions. He dressed more flamboyantly than most, with his hair tied back in a pony tail and his head covered by a purple, large brimmed hat that sported two red feathers. Scars on his face that made him ugly, despite the bright clothing, and two fingers missing from his left hand added to the picture that this was a dangerous man. His dark eyes scanned the workings of his camp in the manner of a commander, resting on an approaching rider. A young man came into the camp on horseback and dismounted next to the Patriarch. He wore forest brown and green garb and a brown cap. He took off his cap and bowed low. "Father," he said in the formal address given to a Sojourn Patriarch, "a man dressed in black is coming up the path. He will be here in a few minutes." The Patriarch turned and shouted, "Sersh! Targ!" He then turned back to the young man. "Retrieve a crossbow from the weapons tent and position yourself in the covered wagon by the path. Do not shoot unless I remove my hat." "Yes, sir!" Two men came out of a brown tent to the Patriarch's left and walked over to him. They dipped their heads and Sersh asked, "Father, what order?" "The new slaves' guardian, the man in black, has arrived sooner than expected. I want you with me when I confront him." He stared at Sersh meaningfully, "Perhaps it would have been better if you had finished him earlier." Sersh stared back undaunted. "Perhaps." Following the Patriarch, Sersh and Targ walked to the north end of the camp where the trail ended. There, they waited for the man in black to arrive, amazed that he could so quickly find their camp. Deciding to enter the Sojourn camp boldly, Hawk walked unconcealed down the path. If the boys were here he would try to bargain with the leader thereby alleviating the need for conflict. If there were problems at least he could gauge their strengths and weaknesses before an actual confrontation. It had taken Hawk a day and a half to find the location of the young men he had vowed to protect. It was not easy for him to track the wagon and the horses, but he was an experience outdoors man and it would take more than common thieves to lose him. Going into Southland, however, was not easy, and involved many risks. Luckily the outpost at this particular border was unmanned. This did not alarm Hawk since most smaller border trail posts were deserted during fall and winter, but the absence of border patrols caused some discomfort. He saw the three men standing in front of a covered wagon and a bluish orange tent at the end of the path. As he approached he recognized the two men standing a foot behind the tall, lavishly dressed man he assumed was the leader. "Welcome," said the leader without any hint of greeting in his voice. "How can the Sojourns be of service?" Hawk knew he was entering a dangerous game and weighed his question carefully. "Well, it is a long story, but," and referring to the two men behind the leader he said, "you remember the young men I traveled with not two days ago? Well, it seems they have stolen my horses and provisions and left me. I have tracked them in this direction and wondered if you have seen them. I have an accounting to render." "That is most unfortunate, traveler," said the Patriarch in mock sorrow. "We keep mostly to ourselves here, except of course to trade, but I assure you, we have not seen them. I am the Patriarch of these Sojourns and my brothers have said they recognized you from Gahlen Highway, though, from two days prior." Hawk studied the Patriarch, stretching out with his arts. He knew almost instantly that the man was lying. "Yes, I do remember them." Shifting tactics slightly he asked, "Perhaps I could share dinner at your table? It has been a long trek, and I have little in the way of provisions." One of the men whispered something to the Patriarch that Hawk couldn't hear. The Patriarch nodded and said, "We understand the hardships of the road and welcome you to our table, but I must insist that your stay be brief. We are celebrating Fall Festival and it is a matter of custom that outsiders not participate. If you would follow me, please." The Patriarch turned and walked toward the camp. Hawk followed a few steps behind him and the two other men trailed. As they passed the covered wagon on the left Hawk's senses flared. Without turning his head, he glanced into the wagon and could see a shadowed figure perched behind several boxes. Insight told him the hidden person had trained a projectile weapon on him. He kept his pace, all the while maintaining an acute sensitivity toward any aggressive action. Reaching the center of the camp, Hawk seated himself at a foldable table and a serving girl gave him a plate of food. The Patriarch sat across from him making indifferent conversation with the serving girl all the while keeping a careful eye on Hawk. Hawk casually looked around the camp, noting the half finished breakdown of the tents and structures and the many chains and locking units on one particular wagon. He commented on this to the Patriarch. "Yes, we are breaking camp here after the Festival tonight to head deeper south for trading," said the Patriarch, annoyed by the question. "We purchase metal articles in the North and trade them where they are not as plentiful. It isn't profitable, but we manage." Several Sojourns were not eating, but were trying to appear casual standing in front of four purple tents to the east. These tents stood out, because of their sealed tent flaps, unique to the rest of the structures. Hawk suspected the Sojourns of some immoral activity, but remained silent, finishing his meal. The Patriarch escorted him to the camp perimeter and Hawk thanked him for the dinner bidding him farewell. The Patriarch wished Hawk luck in his search for the young thieves. Shortly after the man in black left the camp the Patriarch signaled two forest garbed men to track him until he was well away from them. He admonished the trackers not to be seen and to report back if their guest changed course. He then ordered Sersh and Targ to accompany him into the tent housing the two young men. Pahl and Derek sat up quickly when the three Sojourns entered. They had been resting after Tia had brought their dinner. No one but Tia had contacted them since their captivity and the three men startled them. "You will tell me your destination prior to being here." The Patriarch spoke without the mirth normally accompanying his speech. He directed the command to Derek presumably because he was the larger of the two. Derek saw no reason to lie to the man. "We were destined for Gahlen City. You already have our horses and material goods, why can we not leave?" The Patriarch gave him a stare more deadly than he had seen in his life. "I will ask the questions, slave, and you will answer them!" The use of the term slave was not lost on either him or Pahl. They both shrunk back in fear of this ugly man, which brought an evil grin to the Patriarch's two companions. "Why Gahlen?" He sneered. "What was your purpose there?" "To...to meet with my grandmother," Derek lied, his voice stammering in fear. "Your grandmother?" The Patriarch questioned, rubbing the left side of his face with his impaired hand. "And who is the man in black, your grandfather?" Sersh and Targ laughed openly at the comment. "No, no, just a friend." "What is his name, and where is he from?" Derek cleared his throat. "His name is Hakan. And he lives in Rorshauk. He visits me and my family now and again." Pahl took a short glimpse at Derek and then looked back at the Sojourns. "You had better be telling me the truth boy," the Patriarch warned in icy tones. "Your worthless hide won't bring that much to the Jempek slave master." The last threat made Pahl's skin crawl. Jempek slavers were renowned for their ruthless treatment of all people, but mostly their slaves. He had heard stories of slaves tortured and killed for mere sport. "We will be leaving this place within the next few hours. From now on you will stay with Targ and do as he says." The man named Targ moved forward and unshackled the boys from the ground chain, but replaced the metal ankle cuff with a leather one that connected a light chain to both ankles. These manacles were clipped closed with a metal lock, but permitted the wearer to walk with only minor difficulty. Sersh and the Patriarch left the tent, while Targ instructed the boys how to take it down for travel. The hours passed and by dusk the camp stood ready for departure. All the tents, crates, barrels, and equipment were packed on several large wagons with some covered and some left open. Guards placed Pahl and Derek in the middle of the departing caravan with twelve other men and women who wore the same bonds. The captives were not permitted to talk to each other and Derek and Pahl were separated. With a call from the Patriarch, the wagon train moved out, heading south-east along the small trail. When darkness prevailed, the Sojourns hung lanterns on the wagons lighting the path. Derek walked in mute silence next to a young girl with long blond hair. Although she dressed poorly and her hair was dirty, she still looked pretty and Derek thought her to be sixteen or seventeen years old--close to his own age. He smiled at her once, but she seemed occupied with other thoughts. He almost said something, then decided against bringing the wrath of their guard on them. Watching her for a while, he soon lost interest, concentrating more on putting one foot in front of the other. Pahl wondered what had happened to Tia. He had not seen her since she brought them dinner. His thoughts turned to his family. He could not believe that he was about to be sold into slavery in the Southland. Knowing that they would soon be part of the Jempek slave circuit brought a fear Pahl had never known. He fought back the tears that threatened to overwhelm him in despair, convincing himself that he and Derek would find a way to escape. The hours dragged on and the slaves soon tired of the quick pace set by the horse driven wagons. The young, blonde captive had fallen twice in exhaustion only to be assisted by Derek, who encouraged her with his light attitude. Derek knew that if they continued at this speed the girl wouldn't last. He whispered to her that they would be stopping soon, hoping that this was true. Almost in answer to Derek's comment the wagon train halted. The captives were brought water, but to Pahl's chagrin, not by Tia. An old, gray-haired woman carried around a bucket and ladle, giving each person one drink. "Are we stopping for good?" Asked Derek of the old woman. "Quite there!" Barked a Sojourn guard, who was sitting on the wagon following them. Derek curtailed a derogative reply and drank his portion of stale water. The night was beginning to chill and Derek wished the water was the hot tea Maggie Kempter, his adoptive mother, used to brew. He looked over at the girl and could tell she was faring poorly. She had her arms wrapped about her knees and was shaking from the cold. Derek mused at how nice it would be to sip Maggie's tea with the girl in the comfort of his old home. Derek rose and shambled toward the guard, who reached for the hilt of his sword. Derek stopped several yards away. "The girl is cold, she needs a coat or something." "I told you to keep your mouth shut!" The guard said angrily. "And get back into place, unless you want a lashing." He had let go of his sword and hefted a menacing three strapped whip in testimony to his threat. Derek could barely understand his speech, being much more accented and slurred than Tia's, but the gesture defined the words he lost. He moved back in place, disgusted by the guard's attitude, but unable to do anything about it. "I'm sorry," he whispered to the girl. She looked up and gave him a weak smile. A shout from the front of the company and an answering movement of wagons told the captives their break was over. They would not, in fact, be settling here. Slowly, and with remorse, each captive rose and began the arduous task of following the quick moving assemblage. To their surprise, however, the company only traveled another hour before a call went up to unload and make camp. The Sojourns erected few tents for most slept outside on this night due to the short length of the stop. Several guards placed the captives in one tent and locked them together. After the long march they fell quickly to sleep. The next three days were filled with the drudgery of marching on a lightly forested road. The only good thing being the clouds that blocked the heat of the sun at midday. Unfortunately, this also destroyed any sense of direction and added to the chill when evening came. The group stopped twice each day to feed the captives and rest. Once they stopped so the Patriarch could speak with a someone leading a caravan in the opposite direction. Derek couldn't hear what the Sojourns discussed and didn't much care. He was exhausted and knew the girl sitting next to him was beyond exhaustion. She simply sat with her head hanging down, chin resting against her chest. As the caravan moved passed, the prisoners were greeted with baleful stares from the passersby. As night approached on the third day the Sojourns made camp in a grassland clearing, several hundred feet from the road. Derek and Pahl noticed a number of lights from camps miles in the distance. They had left the wooded area almost an hour before and were on the outset of a grand plain that stretched as far as they could see. Pahl thought he could see a group of lights that might mark a small town, but before he could gaze longer a guard moved him and Derek into the same tent they occupied when they were first captured. When they were left alone Pahl said, "Derek, I am much too tired to even try to escape, but I think we are almost at our destination." Derek turned to his brother with a curious look. "How do you know that?" Pahl said, "I saw what looked to be lights from a small town ahead. We will be there before noon tomorrow. Derek, I think we may not see each other after that." There was a note of hysteria in Pahl's voice at the last. Derek straightened and tried to look unperturbed. Hiding his own fear he said, "Pahl, whatever happens, I won't let us be separated. Obviously slaves are common in the South, because none of the caravans we past gave us a second glance, but there must be some order to things. We will have our chance." "But we don't even know where we are, even if we got out of here, where would we go? And if we are sold to the Jempek?" Pahl looked on the verge of crying. He buried his head in his hands. Derek tried to comfort him. "Perhaps if we can convince Tia, she could help us." Pahl just shook his head affirmatively, not looking up. Derek knew that they probably would not see Tia again. She had not been around for close to four days, but he had to give Pahl some hope, while his was drastically waning. He lay down, so tired now he could hardly think. Soon both boys were asleep. Tia, standing at the tent flap with two dinner plates in her hand, turned and went to a brown and dull green tent. Derek felt a ruff hand cover his mouth and he came awake struggling against an unknown assailant. "Shhh," came a familiar voice as he fought back a shout. "Hawk," Derek mumbled under the pressure of the hand. "Shhh, don't make a sound." As Derek nodded understanding, Hawk released his grip and moved quietly over to Pahl, waking him in the same fashion. Both boys could barely make out their once thought lost companion's features. He was wearing his customary black attire, but this time his face was completely covered with black charcoal, making him nothing more than a shadow in the night. Pahl face split into a wide grin as he watched Hawk work on the shackle at his ankle. Hawk was using some sort of brown powder and a wood key. After a few minutes the lock audibly clicked and Hawk removed the metal with care. Pahl immediately rubbed the ankle, bruised by days of scraping from the unmerciful metal. As Hawk crawled toward Derek he heard faint footsteps outside the tent. Quickly he rose and moved with the stealth of a cat. Shifting to one side of the tent flap, a long knife appeared, held ready in his hand. The boys feigned sleep as the tent flap barely opened and a slim figure crawled through. The figure was dressed in dark brown and carried a large leather pack with one hand and a woven satchel with the other. Instantly Hawk had an arm around the person's waist in a vice grip, placing the blade of the long knife against the intruder's throat. He pulled the person to their feet and whispered, "Make one sound and you will be dead before you hit the ground. Tia dropped the pack and nodded in acquiescence. Recognition registered in Pahl's eyes and he came to his feet. In a voice barely above a whisper he said, "Tia, what are you doing here?" Tia rolled her eyes as if her presence was obvious and Pahl was an imbecile. "She's here to release us Pahl," Derek whispered in sudden understanding. Hawk released his grip and lowered the knife, but maintained a careful eye on the agile young girl. Reaching down, Tia picked up the leather pack and moved to where Derek was still locked. She laid the satchel down, pulled two small metal articles out of a pouch in the pack and began picking the shackle lock. In less than a minute she had the lock picked. Hawk watched her with open admiration of her skill. After removing the shackle and returning the two metal picks, Tia opened the satchel and handed Pahl and Derek new stockings and boots and shirts that she had hidden there. The boys quickly changed while Hawk and Tia waited by the front entrance eyeing each other suspiciously. When they were ready Hawk moved to the back of the tent and showed the others where he had cut an exit. He put one finger in front of his lips and then mouthed the words `wait here.' Before he could leave Tia grabbed his shoulder and whispered, "There is someone else who must come with us." When Hawk shook his head negatively she continued, "You have no choice. I am the only one who can secure horses and without them we will be ridden down and caught an hour after sunrise." Hawk looked at the boys who shrugged in the darkness. He seemed to weigh her words then answered, "All right, but if you are not back in five minutes we are leaving with or without horses." As an afterthought he looked her sternly in the eyes, "And if you betray us..." He let the thought go unfinished. "Do not worry about me, dark one," she replied and slipped out the cut in the tent. Five minutes past and still Tia had not returned. Hawk stole a look out the front tent flap and saw that the center fire was now just embers. He knew they only had about two hours until sunrise. He motioned the boys to the back of the tent and led them out. In the distance he could see the hunched figure of Tia waving to them from behind a large willow tree. He could also barely make out the forms of horses. The night was cloudy, which gave the escapees more cover as they quietly moved across the dangerous open grass land outside the Sojourns camp. Hawk was sure any minute they would be rained upon by a guard's arrows, but his fears were for naught. When they reached Tia she handed each a leather rein, giving Hawk the lead of a large black stallion. "I believe the stallion to be yours?" She said and Hawk nodded. He was surprised that she was able to get five horses on her own and the look he gave her showed it. "I am quite resourceful when the need arises," She said immodestly. The person Tia brought with her was already seated atop a brown mare. From the blond hair that flowed out of a gray cowl Hawk ascertained it was a girl. He couldn't see her face, but her hands appeared young looking, almost fragile. "We should walk the horses until we are away from the camp," Hawk said. Tia agreed, but said that her companion needed to ride. Immediately the group set off at a brisk walk through dry high grass and sparse bushes until they were better than a half mile from the camp. At this point they all mounted and turned north onto a small dirt road. "The quickest and safest ride north is to first go west," said Tia when they reached the road. "There are three separate branches off of this road once we reach Kerom point That's only ten miles from here." Turning west the group began a slow gallop. For the next hour the riders made their way along the winding road at a quick pace, then, so they wouldn't tire the horses, they slowed to a walk. Hawk fell back twice to watch for pursuers while Tia led the group. Satisfied they weren't being tracked he relaxed for the long journey. Tia rode in front with her companion, Derek and Pahl directly behind them and Hawk trailed. The clouds had cleared and a close to full moon gave the riders ample light to travel without the need for torches. In the new moonlight Derek could make some facial features of the mystery person riding next to Tia. He rode diagonally behind the girl and was surprised to realize she was the same slave captive who walked next to him when they were with the Sojourns. Derek found the girl attractive in the extreme. He could not help but to wish that he had been the one to release her, carrying his boyish fantasies into a revelry of heroism and knighthood. Pahl noticing his brother's strange mannerisms commented, "What's the matter with you?" Embarrassed, Derek looked away and quickly said, "Nothing." Pahl found this behavior amusing and smiled for the first time in days. Derek mistook this and gave him a black look, which only made Pahl break into open laughter. Tia turned in her saddle. "Quiet you two, this isn't a joy ride." Pahl's laughter ceased, but he continue to grin. The group rode on in silence. The wind picked up slightly and everyone pulled their cloaks or coats closer. They were coming upon a bend in the trail when Hawk called for a halt. He rode up to the front and turned around facing the other four. "I sense something around this turn," he said concerned. He dismounted and signaled the others to do likewise. When they were off their horses he handed Pahl his reins. "Lead the horses off of the trail and back into the brush. I am going to find what trouble lies ahead." "Kerom Point is just around this bend I think," offered Tia, "I will go with you." Before Hawk could voice objection, she continued, "Do not worry, I am proficient in this type of work." Hawk simply turned to the boys. "Keep back in the foliage until I return." They nodded and led the horses and Tia's companion into the trees. Hawk and Tia headed up the trail at a jog. When they reached the bend, Hawk led into the trees and they both walked until they were in position to see the Point. As they made their way closer to the edge of the trail they could hear muffled sounds above the sounds of the wind in the trees. Hawk quickly realized that these were voices coming from the Point. Something gnawed at the back of Hawk's mind that kept him from coming completely out onto the road. Tia had explained and Hawk could partially see that Kerom Point was positioned at the top of a small rise. It was named such because a large natural stone outcropping connected the three break off trails. Translated from the archaic Nordenland speech, Kerom meant, connection. The only thing Hawk could see from his vantage point was the upper half of the large stone and a reflection that appeared to be a campfire light below. Tia gave Hawk a questioningly look and he raised his hand in a signal to wait. Once more he looked at the top of the stone point. Then he saw what had bothered him. Near the top of the stone, barely noticeable lay a figure hidden behind shadows. Hawk only saw it when it shifted slightly. He knew at once it was a look out man and had they ventured onto the road he would have spotted them. Hawk made a motion with his hand above his brow resting on his forehead as if looking for something and then pointed to the rock. Tia understood and they both faded back into the brush. When they were far enough away Hawk said, "There's a lookout on the rock and probably a group below. I'm not sure what they are waiting for, but their spotter is keeping well hidden. If we skirt the point it will take hours to get back on the trail without being seen or heard. Any suggestions?" Tia looked troubled. "Usually one of our scouts plays director at this junction. I thought my position in the Sojourns would alleviate any trouble here. Either there is something worth taking coming up one of the split off roads that I was never informed about or our scout is dead. Either way, we cannot be seen. Unless..." She pondered for a moment. "Unless what?" Hawk pressed. "I shall tell you on the way back," she said turning and heading back toward the horses. Hawk shook his head in resignation, then started after her. CHAPTER 6 Two lavishly dressed Sojourns pounded up the trail on the backs of galloping horses. By their flowing blond and brunette hair and the manner in which they rode it was obvious the two were women. The men around the campfire were already standing, made aware of the approaching riders by their lookout on the rock. There were three of them, not including the one hiding above. The brunette leaped from her horse as it ground to a halt. "There has been a change of plans," she said before anyone else had a chance to speak. She recognized the man in the middle as Sersh and winced slightly knowing this would not be easy. "You must return to the camp." Sersh took the pipe he was smoking from his mouth and smiled ruefully. "What brings you out here, Tia? I could use some comfort on a cold night." "Do not banter with me, Sersh, it is not a joke," she said carefully. "Then what is it?" He countered, "Why would we head back to camp? We have orders." Tia would not let up. "The plans are changed, the Patriarch wants you back now." Sersh looked at his companions then back at Tia. "Why does he need us?" He asked. "Look, the Patriarch sent me down here in the middle of the night to fetch you back." She paused. "All four of you." She looked at the top of the rock meaningfully. "I do not question his reasons and neither should you. Now are you coming or do I go back and tell him you refused." Sersh stared at the girl in contempt. "We will head back, but you and the blond will leave word with our Southern friends. They should be here within the hour." "Of course," said Tia, "I will tell them to wait for your return." Sersh laughed wickedly, "Tell them whatever you wish, and pray they don't decide to kill you where you stand." Sersh called the lookout down and the four broke camp and set out. "Those Southerners don't take kindly to delays. I don't envy your job," he said as they rode off. The blond girl had been holding the horses. She looked worriedly at Tia and asked, "We will not be waiting long, will we?" "No, Lorina, not long," Tia answered, "Pahl and his friends will come out of the brush once my old compatriots are far enough away. We should pack up what they have left for our own journey, though." Lorina seemed to take courage in this and tied down the horses to help gather some of the leftover food. After they had packed what little food was left, they moved to the edge of the camp and waited. Not more than a hundred yards to the south, Hawk, Derek, and Pahl emerged from the trees and onto the trail leading their horses. They mounted quickly and rode up to the girls. "Well done," said Hawk in obvious admiration. Tia smiled, happy to receive his compliment. Then, remembering what the departing Sojourn had said, her smiled vanished. "Supposedly my prior acquaintances were to meet some Southerners here. I think they may be clansmen and we should be off before they arrive." "Then let's not delay. Which road is the quickest to Nordenland?" Asked Hawk. "The road to our right is quickest," Tia answered, "But not safe. I suggest we take the middle one. It veers more west, but we chance less unsavory meetings." "Then we take the middle road," Hawk said. The group started down the road with Tia again leading. They had barely gone a quarter mile when they heard horses in the distance back at Kerom Point. Quickly they rode to the side and dismounted, bringing the horses into the shadows. They could see at least seven horses and riders, all dressed like the Southerners Hawk had first encountered at Silver Lake. The wind and the distance made it impossible to tell what they were saying, but from their gestures it was obvious they were not delighted to find their contacts gone. Hawk stood still, wondering if they would come down this path and find him and his companions. He guided the group further back toward the tree line. Then leaving his horse, moved to where he could watch the Southerners. He sighed in relief as he saw them gallop away toward the Sojourn camp. But knowing they would soon catch up with the other horsemen and the decoy would be foiled, he instructed the four young men and women to mount up. They rode long and hard into the early morning and every minute Hawk expected a group of angry men to materialize behind them. Several times he looked back expecting to see a pursuit, yet he was wrong. and the Southerners never came. They eventually crossed another road and Tia instructed them to follow the more western route than straight north. Hawk knew this was a good decision, for if they were pursued, a western trek was the most unlikely. Still, Hawk took the horses and made a false trail up the northern road, then backtracked through brush and trees to his companions. On this new road they passed numerous homesteaders, farmers, and even some trades. Tia pointed out that this was normal near the Border, unlike deeper South where most people lived in clans. Hawk was a little concerned about their appearance, especially the stallion he road, but Tia again reminded him that in the South, no one took much notice of the affairs of others. She seemed to be correct for most of the people barely acknowledged their passing, except the farmer with whom Tia bartered for fresh produce. The old farmer was gruff, gray-haired, and unkempt. He wore a large brimmed, straw hat and his pants were shredded near the ankle. His shirt and pants both were of some cheap homespun and dust covered sandals adorned his dry cracked feet. The way he talked made Pahl and Derek both hold back laughter. He cackled like an old hen and his voice rose with an inflected high pitch when he felt he wasn't being heard, which was most of the time. "What'll it be youngish?", the oldster said. "Haven't got all day now, I'm fixin' to make a big sell when the caravan comes a callin'." Though he spoke and acted absentmindedly, Hawk noticed his sharp eyes as he glanced at the stallion. "Where are you from old man?" Asked Hawk, "Your accent is not Southern." Hawk stared the man directly in the eyes and the man stared back. The rest of Hawk's group thought the exchange rather peculiar. After a moment the old farmer looked away and hefted a bag of potatoes. "Might be askin' you the same thing, but I won't." He replied matter of factly. He tossed the sack onto a pile he was creating for his forth coming sale. "Now lookit, I's got potatas, carrots, turnips, and some colliflowa if yer intristed." Tia stepped forward and smiled at the farmer. "We are taking a long journey and would be ever so grateful if you also had some dried fruit or meat we could purchase cheaply?" "Ain't nothin' here cheap, but I's see what I can do fer a perty girl." He winked before turning around and going into the shed he called his home. Pahl blushed at the man's forthrightness with Tia and his smile dropped to a frown. Derek noticed Pahl's behavior and chuckled inwardly. "It would be well if we could get all we need from this old farmer," Hawk said to Tia. Tia nodded, "Yes, I agree. He will not be talking to anyone about us and even if he did, I do not think anybody would pay much attention." "Exactly," Hawk said, again astonished by the young girl's insight. Despite the old man's carefree demeanor and Tia's portrayal of an innocent girl, the two bartered like dogs for a single bone. When it was finished Pahl and Derek had learned a skill at trading both would gladly use if they ever got back to Aubon and the Fur Trade. Loading their saddle bags with the not so easily obtained foodstuffs, the five riders mounted and headed due west. They passed several wagons, teamsters, and farmers on foot who were heading both directions. None of the other travelers appeared concerned with Hawk's company, which reassured him to some degree. Still, he could sense someone searching for them and knew that they must get into Nordenland quickly, and undiscovered. After a few hours of hard riding Hawk called the group to a halt and a break. The horses were lathered and tired and the riders were exhausted. Hawk used his arts to keep alert and bade the others to rest and eat. Not surprisingly Pahl, Derek, and Lorina were napping shortly after they sat to rest. Tia, however, remained awake, munching on an apple. Hawk tied down the horses with a stake and approached Tia. "How far to a larger town than the small villages we have been passing?" He asked picking an apple out of her back pack. "A little over two hours ride," she replied between bites. "What town?" Asked Hawk. "It's called Lohtsurn," she said. "It's not all that large, but it has several taverns and inns, and is usually rather crowded. All of which will benefit us." Tia had been staring down the road they had traveled, but turned her attention to Hawk. She studied him for a moment then asked, "Why did you come all the way south after these?" She indicated Derek and Pahl. "You are no relation and you seem intelligent enough to know that the Patriarch would have you killed if you were caught. And still might." Hawk turned and stared at Tia until she began to feel uneasy under his gaze. Then he said, "You know the boys even less than I, yet you and your companion have given up your entire lifestyle for them. Though I suppose your companion had less of a choice and more to gain." The last was added with knowledgeable inflection that left no guessing that Hawk knew Lorina's predicament before their escape. Tia took a final bite of her apple and tossed the core into a nearby brush. She turned her attention back to the empty road and wondered if this man in black would ever give a straight answer. She sat for a moment trying to conceal her young emotions. She was a thief and liar, and she knew that he knew it. Where the last few years of her life she had been calm, cool, and in control, now she felt confusion, and lack of confidence in her initial resolve to leave the Sojourns. Hawk could readily sense these conflicting emotions and Tia's frustration. He knew she would not go back to the Sojourns, but he was unsure if she might simply slip away and they would be without a guide. Even though at any other time Hawk would consider what he did next as ludicrous and overly trusting, he decided that this young girl needed to have some direction and understanding if they were to continue together. "Tia," Hawk said in a quiet voice. She turned, the frustration melting when she saw his face. "You must know some things about me, if we are to benefit each other," Hawk continued in the same calm voice. With a smooth narrative Hawk wove a portion of his life into a colorful tale that held Tia spellbound, for it was a spell in reality. This finely crafted illusion allowed Tia to actually see in her mind the episode that marked the meeting of Hawk and the boys from Aubon, their short time together, and their travel on the road to Gahlen. The excitement, fear, bonding, and several other stirring emotions were portrayed and felt in Tia's heart. She sat entranced by the display and tears of wonderful love wetted her cheeks when she witnessed Pahl's parents and his little sister's life together. How she wished she could have had a life like that, and in an instant knew why Hawk had shown her these things; he too wished the same. When it was over Tia sat for moment wiping her face and composing herself. At first she felt ashamed, because she had not cried since she was a very little girl, but when she saw Hawk take no notice the embarrassment was gone. "I will let the others sleep for another half glass, but then we must be on our way to Lohtsurn," Hawk said as he stood to tend the horses. "You might want to rest as well, Tia." Tia nodded absently, then she looked at Hawk with a growing respect. Quietly she said, "Thank you. Thank you for the explanation." Simply nodding Hawk began unloading the horses and brushing them down. He gave them some oats from one of packs and checked their hooves for rocks and splits. Tia had laid down and closed her eyes, so Hawk continued on his own brushing the horses then checking their provisions. After making a quick inventory of their foodstuffs Hawk looked at his companions. By their heavy breathing he knew they were too tired to wake and continue. The two boys, and blond girl had fallen asleep without even eating. Hawk decided he would let them rest for at least another hour, while he would use his arts to discover if their enemy was close. Closing his eyes to mere slits Hawk slowed his breathing and relaxed his body to enhanced his inner awareness. For several minutes he sat motionless and soon he could feel the senses of his four companions lying not ten feet away. Three were deep in sleep and one lightly sleeping he presumed was Tia. Almost as if he were stretching a palpable ring Hawk enlarged his circumference of feeling two fold. Now he could sense the horses grazing, they were calm and peaceful. Again with a gentle mind push the ring doubled in size. Several times he continued to double the size of the invisible ring he had created. Within the ring he could sense any living creature's nature or purpose of thought as if it was being projected toward him. By using this technique Hawk hoped he might discover the ill intentioned searchers if they were nearby. As the circle grew Hawk warped and narrowed it so that only the eastern side would continue to grow and not as wide as it was long. Soon the oblong ellipse was stretched to a mile in length and Hawk sifted out the animals and concentrated more on any human awareness he might reach. It had been several years since he had used this technique and he was amazed at how quickly he was able to enlarge the ring. Distance did not seem to matter, but as he reached out five then ten miles the number of recipients grew to where it was difficult to concentrate and discern any one conscious. As the ring continued to grow Hawk was bombarded by the feelings, senses, and demeanors of hundreds of tradesmen, farmers, and buyers in the midst of heckling over goods and arguing prices. He nearly passed out from the barrage, barely controlling the overwhelming feeling to simply give in to the mind boggling madness that erupted from the contact. He knew if he did not break this spell quickly his mind would be lost in a wash of merging emotions. Without proper thought Hawk had drawn on a particular art he had not fully understood and was on the verge of paying the highest price for it. Ironically it was the thing he searched that saved him from certain insanity. Because of the curving trail, Sersh and Targ, two of the Sojourns from the original camp were just outside Hawk's circle when he warped it into an ellipse. As they rode closer to him they penetrated the circle, but their intentions were not fully noticeable until they saw Hawk and his party resting just up the trail. At that moment Hawk felt a stabbing hatred pierce through the jumble of emotions that threatened to dislodge him from the precarious cliff where his mind balanced. The anger in these two men burned red hot fire into Hawk's mind, shattering the cacophony of other feelings and bringing him forcefully back to single consciousness. Immediately Hawk's eyes opened and he quickly stood. Shaking his head to clear his clouded vision he witnessed two riders pounding down the trail with murder in their eyes. "Awake," Hawk yelled and waved his arm in a sweep in front of his sleeping friends. Tia jumped up into a fighting crouch with a short dagger in her right hand, while the others groggily stood. Still recuperating from his brush with sanity Hawk was slow to turn back around and face the oncoming riders. Shoulders slumped and slow thought processes gave Hawk difficulty in concentrating. Tia noticed Hawk's strange behavior and seeing the riders almost upon them she knew there would be no time to flee or convince the two Sojourns of another tale. Her face set in grim determination she moved forward to intercept the two enemies, but as she did Hawk reached out his left arm to restrain her. "Wait," said Hawk. "I will deal with them." Tia looked at him questioningly, but held back. Nevertheless, she held her dagger in a menacing fashion. Unarmed, Pahl, Derek, and Lorina stayed back, unsure what to do. Sersh and Targ reined in their horses and leaped off. Hawk smiled at their first mistake--a trained fighter would have remained saddled. Sersh drew a short sword strapped to his horse and Targ pulled out two wicked looking daggers from under his cloak. Both men moved forward cautiously, but their eyes spoke of nothing more than extreme hatred upon seeing Tia. Raising both arms with his palms out Hawk said, "You are making a mistake, Sojourns, we are not worth it." He tried to invoke a spell, but his mind was still foggy from the previous ordeal, and knew he could not penetrate the conviction of these blood thirsty thieves. "It is you, who made the mistake!" Shouted the auburn haired Targ, mad with anger. "Step aside and we might not kill you," growled Sersh. "It is the other four we want, not you." He made a waving motion with the tip of his sword as he moved closer and Targ circled to the right. Tia backed up, taking a protective position in front of her three companions while Hawk tried to distract their foes. With speed bordering on the supernatural he spun in place, snatched the pack of apples from the ground near him, and launched it at Targ. Targ tried to duck, but the pack caught him on the shoulder and he fell dropping one of the daggers. Immediately Sersh leaped forward striking out with the short sword, but Hawk was too fast. He dodged left, grabbed Sersh's sword arm with his right hand, and smashed his left elbow into Sersh's face. As Sersh reeled back from the blow, dropping the sword, Hawk squatted down spinning into a reverse sweep kick that took both of Sersh's legs out from under him, landing him on his back, driving the wind from his lungs. "You bastard!" Shouted Targ as he retrieved his fallen dagger and charged Hawk. Hawk whirled in place to face Targ's rush and barely dodged the dagger thrust from the left. He blocked Targ's right arm as it slashed toward his face and fell backward when they slammed together. Hitting the ground Hawk kicked Targ over his head and rolled backwards into a squatting position. As Targ began to stand from the throw, Hawk planted a crunching back kick into his chest sending him rolling across the ground. "Hawk!" Tia cried, and Hawk dove straight forward into a roll as Sersh's sword cut into the soft dirt where Hawk would have been. "I'll deal with you next," said Sersh in a deadly tone directed at Tia. His face bloody from a broken nose and his breathing heavy, he gave Tia a deadly stare. He looked at Hawk warily and quickly glanced back at Targ who was slowly crawling to his feet. Sersh backed away and Hawk moved forward. Hawk was shaking slightly with adrenaline. He knew he should have sensed Sersh's last strike, but he didn't and if it hadn't been for Tia's warning Sersh could have killed him. Hawk began to feel less confident. These men were not exceptional fighters, but he was still shaken from the previous spell. He decided he must take them singly and since Sersh appeared shaken he would handle with him first. Feigning a stumble, Hawk dropped to one knee. As Sersh moved in quickly for a killing blow Hawk leaped straight up to deliver a punishing side kick that snapped Sersh's head back, knocking him unconscious. Hawk landed and retrieved Sersh's sword from limp fingers. He moved quickly and easily toward Targ who stood brandishing both daggers. Hawk was not an expert with the sword, but he was more than a match for Targ. After a quick feint, slash, then riposte, he found an opening and brought Targ to his knees with a deep cut in the man's upper left thigh. Targ cried out and dropped both of his daggers in a plea of surrender as blood poured from the gaping wound. Pahl and Derek came over quickly and bound Sersh with rope from the Sojourn's saddlebags. Tia held her dagger at Targ's throat while Lorina attended his bleeding leg and Hawk tied his arms behind his back. Targ complained of his wound, but Hawk knew it wasn't crippling, though very painful. When the Sojourns were bound, Hawk took their boots and Targ's daggers. He gave Pahl and Derek each a dagger and put the boots into Targ's saddlebag. "Wouldn't want you to follow us too soon," said Hawk as he bid his companions to load up the horses and prepare to leave. "When the Southerners find you, black one, you will die," spat Targ. He looked at his companion for support, but Sersh still lie unconscious. Hawk turned and in icy tones replied, "Feel lucky I did not slit both of your throats for the trouble you have caused me." His voice was devoid of any humor and Targ held his tongue from further comment. Quickly gathering and loading their belongings, the group left the two Sojourns and rode on toward Lohtsurn. All were eager to put several miles between themselves and the Sojourns, but Hawk said that they would not be followed for quite some time. He explained that since the Sojourns were alone, their companions and the Southerners most likely split up searching down the other roads they had passed. Everyone accepted this except for Tia who began a nervous habit of periodically looking back over her shoulder. The group had ridden for an hour before they passed a teamster. Hawk hailed him to halt and explained that two ruffians were down the road. The teamster looked worried until Hawk told him that the men were bound and if he released them he should be wary. The man thanked Hawk and he said that he would let others worry about the ruffians. Ramshackle homes made of old wood or logs marked both sides of the trail as the five riders neared Lohtsurn. It was late afternoon and the cloudy sky darkened the landscape quicker than usual. Several locals were finishing up the day’s work outside their homes, bringing in well water or logs for fireplaces. The homesteaders glanced at the five riders, but as before, no one paid them much attention. Lohtsurn was a much larger town than the small villages the group had ridden past. The other villages consisted of nothing more than one or two trades with small markets for local farmers. Lohtsurn had several large trades, four taverns, a blacksmith, a horse trader and any number of carts on the main street selling leather, fresh fruits and vegetables, potatoes, cloth, and trinkets. As Hawk and his companions road into Lohtsurn they noticed most of the vendors closing down. Only two carts remained on the road, but they were just finishing packing up their goods. It seemed that Lohtsurn was not the safest place to have unguarded goods left on the street as night fell. Tia confirmed this telling the others that the market in Lohtsurn only ran between the eleventh hour in the morning to the third hour after noon. Pahl couldn't see how anyone would make a profit within those strict time frames. In need of losing the two extra mounts, Hawk had Tia lead them to the town stables. She was less than enthused about this because the low price they would get in Lohtsurn wasn't a third of what they could demand in the Kingdom. Still, it made sense to sell the horses early, lest they became easier to follow. After reaching the stables it took no small amount of negotiating to get the owner to make a buy since it was after closing. Tia managed to convinced the old man of the horses future value and the limited opportunity for the low price she was asking. When she finally made the sell, the five road to an inn on the Northern side of town. With the extra gold from selling the horses Hawk felt it prudent to get a good night’s sleep and made arrangements for two rooms at Northroad Inn. The innkeeper fed them dinner in their rooms as Hawk asked. Even though he felt safe here, Hawk wanted to refrain from drawing attention to themselves. With an added Kingdom silver as a tip, Hawk made the innkeeper aware of the group's need for privacy and he would keep it so. Dinner was a delicious blend of roasted turkey, greens, and a fattening gravy that left everyone feeling full and sleepy. Despite a unanimous vote to retire early and wake early, Hawk wanted to discuss their present situation and plans for tomorrow's journey back into Kingdom territory. He brought the group together in the men's sleeping quarters and once gathered they began to speak quietly about their plans. "As I remember," began Hawk, "It is much easier traveling south and leaving the Kingdom proper than going north into Nordenland from Southern territories." Though speaking to all he directed the statement to Tia. "This is true," she acknowledged. "The border we originally crossed was deserted, but I am positive a Kingdom Post will be active on this northern road. That will mean a high cross fee and possibly kingdom credentials." "Either a merchant's seal or foreign papers?" Hawk asked Lorina spoke up, which surprised everyone. "If you do not have proper Kingdom identification, it is possible to plead Lord's Errand." "Lord's Errand?" Asked Derek happy to hear the beautiful young girl speak. He was again mesmerized by her soft eyes, and now more so by the intelligent manner in which she spoke. Looking at each of her companions in turn, Lorina explained, "If one presents himself appropriately, he might easily convince a tired old Post guard, that his Lordship's pleasure was at risk by belaying two damsel's transportation to his presence." Spoken like one well educated, Hawk nodded his approval and understanding of the young girl's proposal. To shed light to the other's who seemed confused by the vague explanation he said, "Then, if we were to dress you and Tia again as Sojourn's and give an easy explanation that you were a gift to a minor noble, we might go unheeded.?" "Exactly," said Lorina smiling. "Especially if we used Earl Darmain of Valeez. Valeez is just west of Surik and Darmain has a well known appetite for foreign girls." Amazed at her friend's knowledge of Kingdom nobility Tia mentioned, "Lorina, when you were capt...um, taken, Sersh said you were with orphans and you yourself have told me you were a poor teacher of children living with your grandmother. How do you know so much about the nobility and their ways?" Lorina looked at Tia and smiled. "It was pertinent not to divulge my heritage at the time of my capture, but you must all know that I am the daughter of a minor baron in Surik." This brought a look of surprise to all in the group except Hawk. She seemed to think for a moment before continuing. "I must return home as quickly as possible." "How long were you with the Sojourn's?" Asked Pahl, now interested in the young girl. He had never personally met nobility, since the Baron of Rorshauk actually lived in Gahlen, never paying homage to his legal ownership. Sitting forward, Pahl listened intently. Lorina looked to Tia. "About two weeks longer than you two," Tia said indicating Pahl and Derek. She still found it strange the girl she had come to call a friend was actually from a wealthy northern family. Tia was not well versed in Kingdom politics, but she knew the titles of important figures in the Kingdom as well as the South. As she understood it, a baron wasn't much elevated, but did command certain lands, titles, and privileges. Privileges she had thought never to know. Derek shuffled and Pahl looked to him thinking he was going to ask a question, but his friend sat in mute silence. Pahl turned back toward Tia and Lorina to ask another question when Hawk interrupted him. "How did you come to be, shall we say, involved with the Sojourns?" For the benefit of Tia, Hawk refrained from mentioning the practice of her Sojourn family in slave trade. Lorina remained quiet for a moment deciding how best to answer the question. She furrowed her brow in thought, then said, "I was actually working with an orphanage and teaching them in a poor province west of Gahlen. What I told Tia was partially true. "I was out picking berries when I was...taken. I meant to stay at the orphanage for some time when things changed. I do wish to go back to the orphanage someday, but I fear now I should go directly to Surik, lest my parents think me dead." Hawk considered for a moment. "From where we are now I judge Surik much closer than Gahlen, at least two days of hard riding." He looked at Pahl and Derek. "Still, I must get Pahl and Derek back to Gahlen, lest their Father have me sent to the gallows." Both boys smiled at this and Derek realized uncomfortably, it was the first time he had smiled for days. Hawk continued, focusing his next comments on Lorina. "The direction I wish to proceed toward would naturally be Surik, since my ultimate destination is further northwest than Gahlen. But, I must not take this course unless you can guarantee your father will provide adequate transportation and protection of Derek and Pahl. Derek and Pahl graced Hawk with a barrage of questioningly looks. Despite Pahl's internal feelings of returning to his family, he wanted to continue with Hawk and discover mysteries both he and Derek knew Hawk had not yet revealed. Neither Pahl nor Derek wanted to be left out of the circle, but Pahl was the more vocal about it. "We've been together for over two weeks now!" Pahl suddenly blurted. "I don't see why we shouldn't stay with you. At least until you reach the Keep." If Hawk was surprised by this outburst, he didn't show it. Regarding the young man he had grown to be fond of, Hawk stated, "Both your father and Bojax Freed counted on me guarding you. They gave me a trust that I almost broke." "Yes, but..." Pahl started. Hawk stopped him saying, "There are no buts, Pahl, only facts. And the fact remains that I am a danger to both you and Derek." Pahl stared at Hawk, frustration etched onto his young face. Tia found his emotional state likable and smiled warmly at him. The attention made Pahl flush, but he still hadn't resolved this issue and wasn't ready to let it drop. He began to gather his thoughts to present a viable argument. Before Pahl could object further though, Derek said, "Hawk, isn't it possible we were meant to find you at Silver lake?" Hawk did not respond, which Derek took to mean he should continue. "Both Pahl's mother and my own taught us of the Light of the Path and the probability of the purpose of things. Perhaps there is a higher purpose here and Pahl and I must play a part. If this is true then it wouldn't help for us to be sent back early. This might thwart a necessary event that would otherwise accomplish something great." Pahl was amazed at Derek's change in attitude from his original skepticism at Crossroads Inn. Derek had always been the logical one, never emotionally out of control. It was a rare occurrence for Derek to speak of things not easily and logically explained. Pahl was also surprised to hear the reference to higher purposes in life. Derek was certainly becoming quite the philosopher, he thought. Hawk listened intently with one hand absently rubbing his short beard. He seemed to weigh all that Derek said, while Tia and Lorina listened but had trouble fully understanding Derek's position. Since he had everyone's attention, Derek continued, "This may sound farfetched, but Pahl and I both witnessed the ferocity of the Southern warriors who attacked Hawk . If they are intent on killing you, Hawk, what's makes you think they will not wish to finish us off as well? Also, wouldn't our family and friends be in more jeopardy if we returned?" Hawk waited for a time before answering Clasping his hands on his lap he said, "You may be correct, Derek. Perhaps it would be wiser to bring you along. I have no idea whether my old master is still at the Keep, or even if he is still alive, but I must find out. It would require much commitment." Hawk looked down for a moment and then stared at both boys with piercing eyes that seemed to bore into their souls. He said, "Are both of you willing to continue with me despite the danger and hardship?" Before they could answer he added, "And, follow my directions without question? This is not to mean you can not ask questions, only not to second guess my leadership." Pahl and Derek answered as one, "Yes." Hawk gave them an atypical smile and turning to Tia asked, "What are your plans, young thief?" He said it light heartedly and no offense was taken by the appellation. "I do not know," she said, almost apologetically. "I had thought that I would find work in one of your towns." She looked at Pahl timidly, and for the first time without seductive overtones she said, "Perhaps in Aubon." Pahl was visibly shaken by her mild manner and smiled at her warmly. He was finding this young foreign girl more attractive then ever. Under different circumstances he felt certain they could develop a relationship. "Very well, then we shall stay as a team until we are near Surik," said Hawk. "Then, Tia and Lorina will go on to Surik while the three of us will travel to the Keep. It has been a while, but I doubt the way has changed. We should be able to take West Surik Highway unless there is an easier road." "No, there isn't," confirmed Lorina, "But that road splits from the old road to the Keep. I haven't traveled it, but I understand that this old road isn't used much and is a haven for less respectable individuals." "Understood," Hawk said. Feeling the pangs of drowsiness upon him, Hawk advised his companions to turn in. Tia and Lorina went over to their room Hawk cautioned them not to open their door to anyone, but he knew the warning was unneeded. Pahl and Derek bade the girls good night and were pleased by the response. Tia blew Pahl a kiss, while Lorina simply nodded and returned the salutation. After the girls had left, Pahl said to no one in particular, "It seems things are turning out better already." Lying down with his eyes closed, Hawk observed, "Get some rest, we start early tomorrow." ***** A tap on the shoulder awoke Pahl to a darkened room. Considering he had barely shut his eyes, he knew they were truly making an early start. He found later that he had slept for nearly eight hours, wishing for twelve. Rain danced unceasingly off the room window informing Pahl he would be soaked within the first hour after they left. He hid his annoyance and rolled out from warm covers. Finding his boots where he had left them, he slipped them onto his feet. He was so tired the previous night, he neglected to undress before sleeping. He yawned and stretched and listened to the patter of rain. After rousing Derek, Hawk lit a small lantern that rested on an oak end table, bathing the room in soft yellow light. Pahl and Derek squinted at the rush of new light. Hawk turned the wick down, not to comfort the boys, but to keep from attracting outside attention by the light, then he turned to Pahl. "Pahl, wake the girls and then meet us downstairs," said Hawk. "We should have the horses prepped by the time you get there. Pahl nodded and still tired, shuffled over to Tia and Lorina's room. Leaning on the door he knocked, then waited. Tia opened the door sooner than Pahl expected, causing him to stumble forward off balance. "Are you ready to go," he asked, unbelieving. "More than ready to get out of this ill forsaken Southland," She said quickly. Lorina stood behind Tia with a satchel in her hand. Pahl guessed the two had heard the men and had slept in their clothes, as well. He told them where Hawk and Derek had gone and then led them down the hallway. The stairs leading to the first floor were old and creaked as the three companions climbed down. Pahl thought they would wake the entire Inn before reaching the bottom. The landing led into main guest dining area which was vacant and silent, except for the patter of rain drops on the windows. Several hanging lamps turned low, flickered shadows throughout the room. The front door stood partially ajar where Hawk and Derek had recently exited. Pulling up the hood of his rain cloak, Pahl led Tia and Lorina out the front door, closing it solidly when they were outside. A disgruntled stable boy with straggly blond hair and sleepy eyes, assisted Hawk and Derek in readying their mounts. As Pahl walked up, the boy and Derek were finishing cinching the saddles, while Hawk loaded on baggage. Pahl took the reins of two lead horses and brought them to Tia and Lorina. The girls easily climbed into the saddles without assistance, so Pahl helped ready the remaining three. After they were loaded and mounted Hawk tossed the boy a silver coin. Catching it in mid flight the boy secreted the coin into a shirt pocket. As the riders headed out into the rain the stable boy called out, "You might want to see a smithy soon, some of your hoof shoes need adjusting." Hawk waved back thanks and led the group onto the dark, wet road North. ********* "Quit looking over your shoulder, Pahl, the bordermen will be suspicious." Pahl turned his attention forward and gave Tia an understanding glance. Since leaving Lohtsurn he had taken to riding beside her, while Derek road along side Lorina. Both brothers had found their new companions interesting and exciting despite the heavy rain. The friendship they were developing made the wet ride almost enjoyable. They had talked and laughed most of the morning, lifting their spirits to new heights. It wasn't until they reached the Kingdom border and the large border post guard that the group had become silent and somber. Pahl thought it certain they would be retained when Hawk had begun a smooth explanation for his lack of credentials. The Controller, a tall man with broad shoulders and heavy cloak, had questioned Hawk extensively about the Sojourn women. From the way the other guards had eyed Tia and Lorina, Pahl had thought they were in for trouble. Several guards had come out of the Post Station and placed themselves in strategic positions around Hawk's group in case of the need to retain them. Somehow Hawk's mentioning of Earl Darmain had eased the Controller's suspicion's and before he knew it, Pahl was riding past the guards. Still, even after they had passed the guard's and Lorina's ruse had worked, Pahl could not shake the feeling at any moment an alarm would sound and once again his group would be fleeing certain capture. He did his best, however, to heed Tia's warning and remain seated forward, riding as casually as possible. The rain had turned the hard dirt road into sloppy mud that had thoroughly caked onto the riders' horses. Lessening from a down pour to periodic drizzle the group stopped for an afternoon break. They were several miles north of the border and Hawk felt safe to stop. They had recently crossed a small stream and Hawk told Derek and Pahl. to wash down the horses while he and the girls prepared a lunch. The young men quickly unpacked the horses and hurried them down to the stream. Hawk took the opportunity to speak with the young women alone. As they open the packs with food he said, without preamble, "Lorina, you are a daughter to the King, Marcus von Allmen." It was not a question. Astonishing both girls, Lorina replied, "How...how did you know that?" "I suspected, at first, when you stated your relation to a baron and your manner of speech. But when I listened to you speak to Derek as we traveled, my suspicion was confirmed." Both girls stared at Hawk with mouths partly open. He continued unabated, "I have the ability to discern certain things. When you spoke with Derek, you spoke as royalty to a commoner. I do not say that you are conceited or vain, only that your upbringing lends to a certain manner of speaking. "Also, I spent some time in court, some years back, and met a certain nine year old, who happened to be the sixth daughter to the king. I was delivering a message from an Eastern Noble and while staying in court a found this little blond girl tending flowers in the Royal Garden. I spoke with her briefly, but found that while young, she had a marvelous understanding of life." Not letting Hawk continue, Lorina held up her hand. She reached beneath her tunic and withdrew a thin gold necklace with a beautiful silver rose dangling from the end. "You were the man who gave me this?" She asked unbelieving. "You still have it," said Hawk. "I am glad. It was my mothers before I gave it to you." Lorina von Allman, sixth daughter to the King of the Northland had a faraway look as she recalled, "I was teased by my childhood friends when I told them an angel had given it to me. It was after I had received this gift that I had committed my life to serving the less fortunate. Something of what you told me, `that all are equal in the Light of the Path.'" "You remembered. Impressive." With eyes downcast, Lorina said, "But you never came back. Why?" Without letting him answer, she continued, "It was this gift that helped me remember, remember to care for the animals, and plants, and...and orphans. It has some magical properties I think." After a brief pause she said, "You were orphaned, when you were young." "I was." "What is my part in this. This sequence of events that Derek spoke of?" "I know not, only that I fear you play a role. An important part, I think." Tia watched the exchange with detached awareness, somehow there, yet not. Amazed at Lorina's true heritage, yet less surprised than she thought she should be. She remained silent and thoughtful. "We will all learn our purpose in this grand play soon enough, I should think," said Hawk. "But for now it will be best for you to return home. It may be that the King will need to become aware of events soon, and you are our best link to him." "Why are you speaking to me now about this?" Lorina asked. "What about Derek and Pahl?" "It will be difficult enough for them to leave you at our agreed point of separation, without them knowing you are royalty," said Hawk. "I am tempted myself to see you safely into Surik, but my need to reach the Keep quickly outweighs caution. Besides, I feel confidant of your and Tia's abilities." Tia placed a hand on Lorina's shoulder. "I will stand beside you to make sure you reach your family, I promise." The two girls stared at one another, then as tears filled Lorina's eyes they hugged. "Thank you, Tia," Lorina said as she wiped her face. Smiling with a wry Sojourn look Tia said, "We had better get some food together or the boys will think they worked, while we did nothing." The three laughed and began preparing the lunch in earnest. CHAPTER 7 Pahl continued to wave as Tia and Lorina road on to Surik with a family of traders. The skies had finally cleared and he was in a good mood despite parting with a girl he had strong feelings for. Tia had given him a kiss completely on the mouth when they said their good byes and Pahl was floating on air. It had taken four days to reach Surik's outlying borders and they had passed the cut off road two hours earlier. A toll guard had demanded two silvers per person, a high price for travelers. Despite having to pay twice Hawk felt it important to continue further with the two girls even after they had met the young family of animal farmers and began riding with them. Naturally, Derek and Pahl had agreed, both wanting to spend as much time with the girls as possible. The family had proven good company and Hawk had finally decided it was time to part. In youthful extravagance, Pahl and Derek had bid the young women farewell as two knights going into battle. The gesture appeared comical, but the girls had not seemed to mind and Lorina had gifted Derek with a warm hug and a light kiss on the cheek, while Tia kissed Pahl fully on the mouth sending him careening into his first struggle with love. It had seemed to Pahl that Hawk had taken unusual time to caution the girls on whom they trusted and to make certain Lorina did not forget to send word of Pahl and Derek's safety to their Aubon parents. Finally, Hawk had promised that he and the young men would return in two weeks and in a strange fashion had held both the girls' hands silently as if speaking in their minds. Four days of rain and sleeping under jury rigged tarps had left the boys tired, but very happy to see the sun. A feeling of conviction and invincibility visited Pahl and Derek as they gave the girls a final wave and turned their horses around. They were going to the legendary Keep, home of the ancient Retters, champions of the light of the Path. Since no sign of pursuit or danger had shown itself, Pahl and Derek rode with confidence and little fear. Hawk allowed them to ride ahead, leading. He could feel the positive emotions radiating from the boys and as he had weeks earlier he wondered at the power emanating from Pahl. There seemed to be almost a glow of potential energies surrounding Pahl. Hawk knew that only a Retter attuned to Pahl would notice this, but he decided to test this young man's potential. Stretching forth his right arm he motioned from right to left, sending an illusion of movement to Pahl's right side that only a Retter should detect. Immediately Pahl ducked and then looked quickly to his right. "What are you doing?" Asked Derek, looking strangely at his brother. "I saw something in those trees," Pahl said. "At least, I thought I saw something coming at me." "Quit messing around Pahl, were just getting started, and I don't need to get jumpy." "What did you see, Pahl?" Hawk asked. "I, well, I thought I saw a..." Pahl paused looking at his brother, then blurted, "A dragon fly." Hawk raised his eyebrows, then asked, "What color was the dragon fly?" "It was silver, I think." "A silver dragon fly, Pahl?" Derek looked on the verge of laughing. "Don't worry Pahl," said Hawk, smiling at the confused young man. "You saw a silver dragon fly. Only, you saw it in your mind. I created it and let it fly to test your ability to discern the power." "Are you saying that Pahl is a Retter?" Asked Derek exasperated. "No, not yet," answered Hawk. "But he does have the potential to become a great follower of the Path and wielder of tremendous power." Seeing the two boys incredulous looks, Hawk explained, "I just sent a mental image to Pahl that a even a student of the Path would not be able to describe in such detail and he saw it without any training at all." "Well, why didn't I see it," asked Derek and immediately knowing the answer to his own question, he looked as though he had just lost a friend. "Not all are gifted with the power, Derek," Hawk said mildly. And taken on a harder edge added, "Or cursed with the responsibility of it." The two brothers had stopped riding and both looked from one another to Hawk. Focusing his full attention on Pahl, Hawk said, "Pahl, you are gifted with the potential to be a Retter, never forget that. This is a great gift, but can also be your undoing if fail to receive the proper training and guidance." Looking at Hawk with a serious expression, Pahl asked, "Will you teach me?" Shaking his head negatively, Hawk answered, "Perhaps when we find my old master, Jeshur Baerd, he may teach you, as he taught me." "But you said that you knew and practiced the Retter arts," countered Pahl, "then why not help me to learn? That must be the reason we met, and are still together. Right, Derek?" Derek shrugged. Not knowing what to say he waited for Hawk's reply. "I cannot teach someone things that I myself have not yet mastered. It would follow the proverb of the blind leading the blind. Do not be over anxious Pahl. Understand that following the Path and using the arts of the Light demand patience and singleness of heart and mind. "Remember when I fought the two Sojourns on the trail to Lohtsurn." Both the young men nodded. "Prior to your waking I was experimenting with a powerful spell I had not used in years and never fully understood. My mind was almost lost in a mishap and abuse of power that would have left me insane for life. That is why I was groggy and slow to meet the Sojourn attack." "But you did defeat them," said Derek. "Only through my own experience and luck," replied Hawk. "Had I not been weakened from the previous ordeal, they would not even have been a threat." "The way you fought," said Derek, "could you at least teach us that." "Actually, the skills in combat I use are part of a Retter's physical training," said Hawk. "But, I will teach you that, as well as some techniques with the sword and daggers we appropriated. However, you must be willing to follow my instructions word for word." He looked at both boys and said, "Agreed?" "Agreed," the boys replied excitedly. "Good, then we will start now. Dismount and lead your horses to the small grassland." The boys followed Hawk to a grass filled area just off the trail to the right. Hawk had them stand behind him and mimic his motions he took them through a series of exercises unfamiliar to the Aubon boys. At first the movements were awkward, but after repeating them several times the boys began to understand the flow and rhythm they were taught. Just as they began to feel limber Hawk taught them what he called the first mahte'. To Derek and Pahl, the mahte' was nothing as much as a strange dance without music. Once the boys had learned the first mahte' to where they could repeat it without following Hawk, he directed them to get their horses and lead them down the trail at a jog. Hawk mounted the stallion and followed his new students. For the next two hours, Hawk had the boys jog for ten minutes and ride for five until they reached the cross road and toll gate that led west. After paying the toll, the three companions began the westward trek to Old Keep trail. Hawk knew they would have to stay overnight somewhere along the main road before reaching the Keep, because he did not want to travel the trail at night. He decided to stay at an inn or tavern once they were closer to the trail. By mid afternoon they had reached a river town that was only an hour ride from the Old Keep trail. The town was relatively new, since Hawk did not remember it from his prior journey's west. Evidently it had sprung up when lumbering became popular near rivers. For a small fee Hawk was able to acquire accommodations and hay for the horses. After a nice evening meal, Hawk took the boys through another series of exercises and made them practice the mahte' they had learned earlier that day. After the exercise and continuous running, Derek and Pahl were exhausted and fell immediately asleep. Hawk watched them sleep and then after some meditation lay down to rest. ********** The family Lorina and Tia rode with was sheep herders. A common enough trade in Surik and one that Lorina knew was saturated. This family would work long and hard to produce the wool that would sell for very little in the Surik market place. Too many sheep farmers and the fashion for silk made prices drop significantly in the past few years. Lorina kept these obvious comments to herself as she made friendly conversation with the family. Remembering what Hawk had told her, Lorina tried to sound ignorant of many political things that were brought up and though Sojourns and Southerners alike were common in Surik, Tia kept quiet except to agree occasionally on one topic or another. It appeared the family did not notice the two girls' peculiarities and seemed as simple and friendly as the farmers Lorina was used to dealing with when she worked at the orphanage west of Gahlen. The younger children's quickness to laughter and frivolous bantering eased the tension Lorina felt at returning home and Tia's fear of entering the largest city she had ever seen. As they neared Surik the road became wider but more crowded with various teamsters, coaches, wagons, merchant caravans, and soldiers. The crowds concerned Lorina since the roads into the outer city were normally clear. Only the inner gates to the city proper tended to bolster traffic. But more alarming was the patrols of armed soldiers that were periodically interviewing and checking the goods of incomers. Lorina questioned the father of the family only to find out that the crowds and patrols had been continuous for the past several weeks. He also noted that as far as he could tell the city was under martial law, not that he knew why. From the way others in the line to enter grumbled if it had not been for travel costs and the chance of robbery many of the merchants and farmers would go to other cities to sell their goods. Shocked at this news, Lorina decided not to ask any more questions lest she became suspect and attract the patrols. She wanted to approach her parents privately, not under escort of armed guards. Then she began to wonder how Tia and she would enter the city without being recognized by one of the soldiers. She did not know all the city guard, but certainly a few would recognize a daughter to the king. Seeing Lorina's concern Tia withdrew a dark red handkerchief from a saddlebag. "Here, wrap your hair in this," she said and held Lorina's horse steady while she covered her hair. The cloth made Lorina's hair appear auburn in color and much shorter than normal. The effect was good, only someone who had seen her recently or knew her well would know her on sight. The procession into the city was long, but the two girls and the family were passed over by several guards. Lorina found it strange that so many guards checked incoming travelers outside the main gate. What could possibly cause this type of concern in the capitol city? After passing through the outer gates, which were more just a checkpoint than actual gates, Lorina thanked the family for their company and took a road away from the main gates and parallel to the city's outer wall. She found a stables and paid the owner to keep their horses. The area between the outer wall and outer gates was less congested than the city proper, but still supported taverns, inns, and several stables and granaries. The Fishermen's Market that lay just north of the Eastern Main Gate was the most significant part of this area. The market lay as a backdrop to the docks and fish hatcheries on Surik Sea. Surik Sea was actually a fresh water lake over one hundred miles in diameter--so large that winter storms could sink ships in its waves. Several towns and cities lie along its shore, most notably, Surik. The lake stretched from the capitol of Nordenland to its edges near the western ocean and eastward more than fifty miles. A large river to the ocean allowed for ocean faring craft to enter the kingdom via the sea. Several Southern seashore cities prospered by sailing into the kingdom through this straight developing an ever growing trade between sea faring nations. It was through the Fisherman's Market that Lorina guided Tia. She told her they would have a much easier time entering the city and making their way to the palace from the northern gate. This proved to be true, since most of the people entering here were off loading ships that had passed through customs. Lorina and Tia went through the gates without question. Once inside the city Lorina was again struck by the garbage on the streets and number of soldiers questioning citizens who had already passed through the gates. She could not believe that this was her home city, where she had spent sixteen years of her life. The city she had left only three months ago was not beautiful, but it was clean and definitely not under armed patrol. More than ever, Lorina wanted to get to her family as quickly as possible. "Tia," Lorina said somewhat casually as they walked up a particularly ill kept street. "I must get into the palace and to my father. I fear something dreadful has occurred here." "I have never been to such a city as this," said Tia, "But something does seem peculiar. I thought the capitol of your nation would be cleaner, anyway." "You don't understand, Tia," said Lorina, barely able to keep her voice sounding normal. "Surik is not like this. Something must have happened. I must see my family. These guards, I do not recognize them. Any of them." "You have been away awhile," said Tia, mildly. "Tia, they all wear the tabard of my family and I should have recognized at least one or two of them since we got here," said Lorina in an increasingly rising voice. "Lorina, settle down, you attract attention." Sure enough two guards walked through the crowds in the girl's direction. Tia and Lorina stopped talking and tried to walk away, but it was too late. "You there, state your business," said one of the guards. "Our business?" Lorina began, but Tia cut her off. "We have come to sell our wares," said Tia seductively, swaying her hips and pouting her mouth. The guard stared at the girls for a moment and then said, "Well, the Red District is in the southeast quarter. Don't attempt to prostitute here or you will be jailed." "Of course not," said Tia. With a smile that betrayed innocence from a girl so young, Tia grabbed Lorina's arm and led her shocked friend south-east, toward the Red District. "What are you doing?" Lorina asked when they rounded a corner. She stopped walking and stared at Tia. Dropping her friend's arm Tia said with a laugh, "Just saving us the trouble of two self important guards." "Maybe I wanted to order them to take me to the palace and my father," Lorina said angrily. "Lorina," Tia said quite seriously, "You have said yourself you do not recognize these guards. Perhaps we should find what is happening here before we find out the king." "Maybe you are right," conceded Lorina, "It's just that...well, I thought things would be different when I came home." "I am sorry, it is difficult, but we must find some things ourselves." "Yes we must." Lorina began walking briskly down the street and Tia had to run to catch up. "Where are you going," Tia asked. "To a good friend of our family. He is not royalty so he lives outside of the palace. My brothers and I used to visit him quite often." "Good," said Tia, "Then he may help us." "He will probably at least know what's going on here. He is a silk merchant and very highly respected in Surik." Lorina smiled and sped up her pace. She finally felt good about an idea and wanted it implemented quickly. One of many coaches prevalent to Surik past by and Lorina hailed the driver by brandishing a silver coin in her right hand and raising her left arm above her head. Coaches, both rugged and splendidly comfortable, were common place in larger cities. For a reasonable fair you could be taken anywhere in the city. Over the past twenty years, coaches had become a lucrative business, ranging from cheap wood seated to luxurious velvet covered and draped coaches fit for royalty. Lorina had chosen a moderately inexpensive coach that would attract less attention and provide adequate comfort. "Your pleasure?" Asked the driver, a young man wearing a somewhat comical puffy hat and breeches that stopped at his knees. "Lord Buranigan's estate," said Lorina, as the girls seated themselves. "The fair is two silver crowns," the driver said holding out his hand. "Two silver crowns!" Lorina exclaimed. "I hope you plan on giving us a grand tour with lunch and fine wine." The driver smiled, apparently used to the sarcasm from his high prices. "I'm sorry about the price malady, but you know the martial law has created turmoil in the city and business has been difficult." Lorina grudgingly placed the valuable coins in the driver's hand and seeing a window of opportunity asked, "About this martial law. Do you know the purpose for it?" The driver looked at the girls suspiciously. Tia added, "We are from the South and rarely travel here." Tossing the two crowns into a locked metal box the young man responded, "I am but a driver and don't take much note of affairs of state." Then looking around conspiratorially, he said, "But, word on the street is that someone killed an ambassador of the Elves. A prince, I think. And the Viceroy believes we will go to war if the culprit isn't caught." "When did this happened?" Lorina asked alarmed at the news. "Two or three weeks ago, I imagine," he said, "And it's put a difficult strain on business." Tia looked heavenward and said under her breath, "We know, you've already mentioned that." "That long and nobody's been caught?" Lorina asked. "No, but last week a rumor spread that the royal family is involved somehow. Can you imagine that?" Lorina and Tia exchanged glances. Lorina said, "Well, it is not our concern. Drive on." The coachman shrugged and shaking the reins, headed for the silk merchant's estate. Tia could barely contain herself from gawking at all of the buildings, shops, and people milling about the streets. It was early afternoon which explained the mass of sellers and buyers who shouted their wares or yelled an offer. She looked this way and that, trying to take in all of her surroundings like a child in a candy store. As the carriage drew nearer to the estate district of Surik, the number of people lessened dramatically. The coach rode freely up cobblestone streets with nicely built mansions and landscaping. The streets were much cleaner, but periodically armed guards passed on horseback and this bothered Lorina. Tia had never seen paved streets and landscaped homes and the sight exhilarated her. "You lived among this?" Tia asked Lorina quietly. "No," Lorina replied. The noise of hooves on cobblestone drowned out their conversation, but Lorina remained wary of the coachman. "I lived in the palace. It is much different than these homes." Tia simply shook her head in wonder. After passing several streets the coach came to a stop in front of a gated home that lay adjacent to a park. The estate was richly decorated with fountains and statues. Green grass spotted with bushes and flowers filled the front yard and gave it a luster and beauty that pleased the eye. Thanking the driver the girls step out of the coach and approached the gate. Lorina had not seen the merchant since she had left Surik and was unsure how to enter the gate. Normal protocol called for ringing the large bell that hung beside the metal gate and awaiting a servant, but Lorina knew this was loud and would cause unneeded attention. She stood in front of the gate for a few moments looking up the street and across the park. Few people were in the park and those seemed occupied with their own concerns. "What now?" Asked Tia. "Follow me," Lorina replied and opened the gate. Some estates housed guard dogs to keep out intruders and Lorina was glad Lord Buranigan refrained from such practice. The two walked up the stone path between numerous statues of ancient lords and ladies carved by gifted sculptors making the front yard a splendid representation of archaic design. As they climbed the steps to the entrance an old man wearing brown and light-tan robes over a fine silken shirt opened one of the large oaken doors. He looked at the girls with contempt, but showed no anger. He was a butler, and quite professional in his own right. "May I help you, young ladies?" Said the staunch old butler and dryly added, "the bell at the gate is there for a purpose, you know." "Yes, I understand," said Lorina quickly. "My friend and I are here to see the master merchant." "Do you have an appointment? My master is quite busy, you know." Knowing that this was just part of the charade all the upper class used to discourage unwanted guests, Lorina played along. "I do not have an appointment per-se, but he will be most grateful to see me." "Malady, Lord Buranigan is presently unavailable," the butler said with indifference. "However, if you will leave your name and a place of contact, I will be happy to see that he gets it." "Sir, it is imperative that I speak with Lord Buranigan immediately," said Lorina. "I am most sorry, but as I said..." "Look, you buffoon," Tia interrupted without preamble, "this is Kingdom business, and unless you want soldiers bothering your master instead of nice ladies, I suggest you get him." The butler stared in guffaw at the brash young girl. Lorina stifled the smile that fought to raise the corners of her mouth and said simply, "Gentle butler, I admire your concern to protect your master, and I apologize for the outburst of my colleague, but we must see Lord Buranigan." Resuming his poise the butler said, "Come inside and I will announce your presence to his Lordship. Follow me, please" The two girls followed the butler down a lavishly decorated hall. Tia stared wide eyed at the paintings and murals that were set in nicely fashioned oiled frames. Chandeliers that held large candles and beautiful crystals hung from a variety of locations and lit the hall and front room where the girls now waited. Seated upon nicely cushioned fur sofa's Lorina looked right at home while Tia shifted and moved about as if the cushions were filled with rocks. Lorina looked at Tia queerly and the young Sojourn said, "I am not used to such comfort." Lorina laughed. Tia gave her a sinister frown that only made her laugh more loudly. "And what, may I ask, gives me the pleasure of such wonderful laughter?" A short, middle-aged man with a voice as smooth as the silk he wore, entered the brightly lit room. Hearing her old friend's voice, Lorina jumped to her feet and ran to the short man. Throwing her arms about him she said tearfully, "Kartwert, it is so good to see a familiar face." Lord Kartwert Buranigan hugged the girl he thought of as a daughter and in kind words said, "Lorina, your family had thought you lost forever. I myself was beginning to doubt ever seeing you again, but am happy to see I was mistaken in my thoughts. Now let me look at you." He held the girl back and looked at her with a smile, "You look much older than when we last met." "I am almost seventeen," Lorina said smiling and wiped her tears with her sleeve." "And you seem to have forgotten some mannerisms of the court. Which I find delightful." He handed her a silk handkerchief and in mock-proper fashion she blotted the tears on her face. Looking down at Tia, who had remained quietly seated during the exchange, Lord Buranigan asked, "And who might this young upstart be? I hear you gave my servant, Nibson, quite a shock." Before she could answer the brown robed butler appeared next to Lord Buranigan. "That she did, sir," he said with a smile. Tia stood up saying, "I am sorry, I only thought that..." she stopped for loss of words, normally uncommon to the brash young thief. Nibson raised a hand, "No apology necessary, young miss. Your style and forthrightness bring a fresh scent to this otherwise stale abode." "Stale?" Asked Lord Buranigan with raised eyebrows. "No offense intended, sir," Nibson said routinely. "None taken," responded Lord Buranigan. Watching the two, Tia quickly learned that these men were more friends and equals than master and servant. Their use of title was but a necessary arrangement for the benefit of occupation, but otherwise unneeded. She thought this strange behavior, never meeting the like in her time as a Sojourn. "The ladies appear hungry, sir, shall I set the table and fetch new clothing for our guests?" Nibson asked. "Always one step ahead of me," Lord Buranigan said smiling, "By all means, do so, Nibson." "Right away, sir," Nibson said, and turning, left the room. Lord Buranigan took Lorina by the arm and led her back to the sofa. He sat in a wooden backed chair that seemed more appropriate for his attire. The short man had dressed in several layers of fine silk of varying colors. The cut of the silk gave the Lord a noble look and made him appear dressed more for a ritual than anything else. Focusing on Lorina, Lord Buranigan said, "While Nibson prepares dinner, you will have to relate to me where you have been and how it is you came here. The last I heard was that you had gone on a mercy mission to a Gahlen orphanage." Fully trusting the silk merchant's integrity and their friendship, Lorina described all the events that filled the last several months of her life. Leaving nothing out, she told of the time she had spent teaching the poor, but richly spirited children at the orphanage; her capture then subsequent escape from the Sojourn slave traders with the help of Tia; the meeting of Hawk, Derek, and Pahl; and finally, the events that transpired to bring her to Surik. Tia assisted her with some of the latter episode, but for the most part the story went uninterrupted. Lord Buranigan listened intently, only nodding and giving an occasional comment of interest. When she had finished he asked, "So, why did you come here instead of going directly to the palace?" "I felt that something strange was happening here, Kartwert. I failed to recognize any of my father's guards." Lord Buranigan's face took on an expression devoid of any cheerfulness as he said, "It is true, the capitol has changed significantly since you left, princess." It was the first time since Lorina had arrived that he had used her royal title. Rubbing his chin in thought Lord Buranigan said, "I can send word to the boys' parents in Aubon, but it will not be as easy as you might imagine. All correspondence in or out of the capitol is under heavy scrutiny." "Tell us, Kartwert, what is happening here?" Lorina looked to him with concern burning in her eyes. "In time, Lorina, in time," he answered. "After dinner, you will meet someone and he will describe the present conditions here. It is important that he do so, instead of me." Nibson entered. He paused a moment, and then said, "When you are ready, sir?" "Of course," replied Lord Buranigan, "Thank you, Nibson. Lorina, Tia, will you accompany me." Lorina wanted to know more, but decided she could wait until after dinner and rose to follow Nibson to the dining room. This room was the most lavishly decorated one in the estate. Apparently Lord Buranigan used it for business dealings and wanted to give his customers the impression of quality. He succeeded immensely with Tia. She found the silver eating utensils and gold painted plates unbelievably exquisite. The serving plates had silver edging and were made from a shiny pottery that reflected in the light. She thought that if she decided to be a thief here, she could retire by next summer. If Lord Buranigan thought Tia's mannerisms at the table were undomesticated he never said anything about it. The three ate carrying on light conversation about the latest trend in silk fashion. Lord Buranigan seemed to hold a wealth of information in the clothing trade and never tired of explaining the many styles of silk apparel. The girls learned that the Vahlees turban--a hat made of interwoven lengths of silk--was now the fashion statement for young nobility and silk slippers garnished every regal person's feet at night. When they had finished eating Lord Buranigan brought the two girls into a dimly lit study. The study was laid out in stark contrast to the rest of the home, having lantern lighting and less gaudy, but more practical furnishings. Lord Buranigan left them with new clothes to change into and said he would return shortly with the guest he had previously promised. Lorina and Tia used an adjacent washroom to clean up and changed into the new silk clothes. The apparel consisted of baggy pants and long sleeve shirts appropriate in giving the appearance that the girls were merchant daughters. Lord Buranigan said they would not stand out as they did in their Sojourn attire. Both girls found the clothing comfortable, but Tia would have liked a brighter color. They had changed and sat on a long couch near a warm fire place talking quietly when Lord Buranigan returned. He opened the door and stepped through followed by a young man dressed similarly to the girls. Tia looked upon the man with bold infatuation for he was extremely handsome. He had long, sandy- blond hair, a large chest, powerful arms, and a finely chiseled face that looked as if it had been cut from stone. "Yeourg!" Lorina exclaimed rushing to the young man. "Lorina!" Yeourg said embracing her in a bear hug. "Kartwert said my youngest sister had come and I almost forced him to bring me to you, but he had cautioned against it, until he was certain you were not followed." "So you have been here the whole time?" Lorina let him go but held his hands. "Yes, I am staying in the cellar?" "But why, Yeourg?" Lorina asked. "First sit," Yeourg said letting go of her hands and giving her soft push, "and I will explain." When everyone had sat, Yeourg began to describe what had happened in the last month to the royal family. "To begin, understand that our claim to the thrown is in jeopardy. We, as sons and daughters to Marcus von Allmen, King of Nordenland, have lost all legal claim of authority. The Viceroy of Surik, first advisor to the King, has usurped the crown under the guise of national emergency. He has declared my voice in the magistrate void." Yeourg paused, knowing that this was an unthinkable act and spoke of treason that Lorina would find difficult to follow. Yeourg was first heir to the throne, the crown prince, and to strip him of power would be next to impossible. He decided it best to first describe the events that brought about this catastrophic change. "Two months ago, we were visited by an unusual group of delegates from the South. As you know it is not uncommon for the southern barons and warlords to periodically make trading agreements with the kingdom. These delegates appeared to be on the same mission. The only difference was the head delegate's claim to speak for the entire Southland. He wanted to speak directly with the king and would not deal with any member of the Magistrate, which is our normal custom. Father, who was very busy, gave Bernit, his First Advisor and Viceroy, the authority to speak on his behalf. The delegate agreed but demanded to speak to Bernit alone. Not wishing to upset the foreigners Bernit held an informal court meeting. "Shortly after the Southern delegates had left, Bernit, began acting strangely, saying that we needed to be more concerned with the elves, that they were planning treachery and war. He began whispering his fears into the ears of the more phobic Magistrate members. So strong were his aspirations and claims that after only a few weeks almost half of the magistrate wanted immediate call to arms to protect the Eastern Border. Father, I, and several vocal members began to put down the uprising and unsubstantiated fear. Father called for representatives from the Elves to visit the capitol in an effort to cool the fire of hostility that threatened to undo the Magistrate. "Just after the Elven emissaries arrived Father fell very ill and it was assumed that I would continue as Head of the High Court in his absence. Then, as if by magic, the delegates from the South mysteriously returned and before court was held, several high officials from the elven emissary as well as Magistrate members most loyal to the crown were missing. The Viceroy called it treachery and held immediate private council with his own loyal members to obtain emergency authority. When I voiced objection, he branded the royal family suspect and mother, our sisters, and younger brother were placed under house arrest. Several members loyal to the family helped me escape the palace. After which the Viceroy sent a rumor that I had killed the elven prince, grand emissary from the elven homeland. Immediately following, he ordered martial law and replaced the city garrison with his own handpicked men. "That was two weeks ago, and I do not know whether our family has been secretly killed or not, but I doubt it. Too many in the Magistrate are still loyal to the crown." "What do we do now, Yeourg? Can the Viceroy actually hold such power?" Lorina was close to tears. She knew something had been wrong, but she had no idea it included treason and murder. The look that Yeourg had, as he gazed upon his sister, frightened her more than any she had ever seen. It was a look of pure anger waiting for a chance to vent. With barely contained fury he said, "I have recently obtained knowledge of a secured passage to the dungeons and I have set a plan to release our family. I will do so in three days. After that, the Viceroy will lose all power." With a face flushed with emotion he said proudly, "Once again Marcus von Allmen will hold the thrown and this madness will cease!" Tia's heart swam as she listened to the young man speak with honor and courage. She nearly shouted in concert. She guessed the young man to be nineteen or twenty, but thought he spoke with the strength of someone twice his age. He was everything she had ever dreamed and a prince of the Northern Kingdom. Tia's imaginings diminished when she heard her friend's concerned voice. "Yeourg, is this wise?" Lord Buranigan spoke next, "You can't stop him, Lorina, he has his mind set. I offered him passage on one of my merchant ships to Vahlees, but he will have none of it." Yeourg interjected, "I will not be responsible for civil war in my homeland. That is exactly what will occur if I run to a sister city. The only thing that holds off civil war is the fact that none of the royal family is in sight." "To this I must agree," conceded Lord Buranigan. "If they had a cause many nobles would jump at the chance to overthrow the Viceroy and be seen as heroes, thereby moving themselves closer to the crown and the power that goes with it." Lorina looked at Yeourg with fondness. "It is good to see you well, brother," she said. "And you, little one," replied Yeourg, using an endearment they had shared for years. "I wish to rest now," Lorina said, "But tomorrow, perhaps we can talk about this plan of yours." Yeourg smiled broadly. "Perhaps," he said. CHAPTER 8 Tia spent the better part of the morning alone, walking through the upper market near the estates. Her mission was simple: purchase items from several locations and listen to the talk on the street. Tia was an expert at this. She could gain information at the least cost and lowest risk. Making a point of walking closer to the city guard than necessary, Tia thwarted suspicion. She walked confidently with her head high. Not surprisingly, no one questioned her. To her, the entire ordeal was a Sojourn game, albeit, a dangerous one. After two hours of listening in nearby taverns to overly zealous young nobles eager to please a pretty girl, Tia had all the information she needed. Her biggest problem involved leaving the young men with whom she had flirted. She found that telling them about her father’s ill temper tended to dissuade the more aggressive ones. As she headed back to Lord Buranigan's estate, Tia stopped at a courier service shop. Surik had several of these small but profitable establishments that dealt solely in the delivery of messages. Some were strictly pigeon services that sent pigeons to almost every major city in the Kingdom, while others offered slow delivery via caravan or secured delivery by horseback messenger. Every type had its advantages, with horseback being the most stable, but also the most expensive. Tia opted for speed and had the shop owner write out a small note that would fly to Gahlen and carried on to Rorshauk and the Kempter family. She had him write: Pahl and Derek are fine, will be home soon. She had the owner send two pigeons to ensure delivery, paid him the required two gold sovereigns each, and started back to the estate. Lord Buranigan, Yeourg, and Lorina were eating lunch when Tia returned. She sat down and began helping herself to the chicken and vegetables lying out on the table. The three others stopped eating as she began, waiting for a report. When none was forthcoming, Yeourg said, "Tia, what news?" Between bites Tia answered, "I sent the message to Pahl and Derek's family. It was obscure so I doubt any of the Viceroy's agents will think it worth investigating." She paused to tear a drumstick from the chicken and after taking a large bite continued, "The city folk are filled with much gossip. It seems the rich kids think the governor will lift martial law and the gates will open. One young man boasted of knowledge privy only to supremely high officials. I pressed him about it, but he would only say between laughs that a pact had been made with someone and the Viceroy would soon be asking for military authority." Yeourg leaped to his feet, "What pact? Who?" Tia smiled at the bold, young man and said in her most tender voice, "I know not, my prince, he would not say." Lorina looked at her questioningly, but Tia didn't notice. Yeourg sat back down and said, "Then my plans remain the same, only more urgent. If the Viceroy gains singular military authority, he can openly declare war on anyone with impunity. I must find my father. Tonight!" "But Yeourg, can you trust the people involved in the secret passage?" Asked Lorina. "And more importantly, how will you get our family out and to a loyal noble, before you are captured by Bernit's men?" "The way has been secured and I have Duke Odem's solemn word that he will convene an emergency council when I have produced father. I will covertly get three of my guardsmen and myself through at the back passage. This passage contains two other guards that have infiltrated the Viceroy's men. Should I meet Lord Bernit's men, they will be sorry. Kartwert, send one of your staff to Duke Odem and inform him we proceed tonight." "Um...your Highness?" Tia asked timidly. "You may call me Yeourg, Tia. What is it?" "Well, I have been a thief for most of my life," Tia spoke without apology or embarrassment, "and the plan you have proposed is most dangerous." Yeourg looked at her with slight amusement. "Your point?" He asked. "My point is," Tia continued without humor, "that a dangerous plan must contain at least one variation or back up plan to guarantee success." She paused for a moment, then added, "Or at least to minimize total failure." "What do you propose?" Yeourg asked. Tia's face broadened into a wide smile. ********** A drunken man and two bar wenches strode down a main street near the back of the palace just after midnight. Few remained on the street at this hour for fear of arrest, but little attention was given to the threesome. When the group rounded a corner into a dark alley the drunkard pulled back his hood revealing long blond hair. Yeourg looked at his two companions smiling, "Okay, now wait here and if any guards come or there is a commotion go straight for the docks, as we planned." The two girls nodded in understanding of their secondary plan to escape Surik via a merchant ship. Under their cloaks the girls pulled out two satchels and handed them to Yeourg. Taking the bags, Yeourg said, "This had better work." With a wink, he left down the alley and the two girls leaned back against the wall to settle in for the wait. As he reached the other end of the alley three men stepped out from a darkened alcove. All were dressed like drunkards and wreaked of ale. Without word they followed Yeourg around the corner and through an outer gate to the rear Palace courtyard that had been conveniently left open and unguarded. After waiting several minutes just inside the gate, the four ran across the courtyard to the rear wall of the palace. Yeourg's heart pounded in anticipation. He knew that any minute an alarm could sound bringing down the house guard on him. He relaxed for a moment willing himself to calmness. The dungeon lay at the south end of the palace and under heavy guard. Yeourg knew this, but he also knew that a back entrance used for special access should be unguarded. It was through this door he would enter. Moving quietly, the four men crawled in the darkness toward the rear of the cell house. There they waited for their contact. ********** "It's been almost an hour, what's taking them?" Lorina shifted nervously on the steps to the dark alcove. "Be patient, Lorina, the more dangerous the job, the longer it takes," Tia sat next to Lorina pulling a shawl tighter over her head. "Just be happy no alarms have sounded." "It's freezing here." "I know. It should not take much longer." The girls waited in the cold anxious for any sign of Yeourg or his companions. As the minutes dragged by, Lorina could not shake the feeling that something had gone wrong and her brother was in terrible trouble. When she thought she could no longer wait, two silhouettes appeared, walking quickly and quietly toward the girls. They were dressed as call girls with heavy cloaks covering their dresses. One looked about the stature of Lorina's brother making her appear almost comical, but the other was shorter and thinner, much more the part. When Lorina felt certain it was Yeourg she stood and came out of the alcove. With an expression of fear she asked, "Yeourg, what happened? Where is Father?" "He wasn't there," came the reply. Yeourg was breathing heavy and appeared drained from the ordeal. "I searched everywhere I could without risking capture, but our family must have been moved. Or maybe they were never there to begin with. Come on, we've got to get back to the estate." "I hope we are not caught in these outfits," Yeourg said to Tia. "That's the purpose of the dresses," Tia replied, "so you won't get caught." The four sauntered out onto the main road, just like four hookers coming home from a late night job in the wealthy part of the city. Yeourg stood much taller than the other three and tried to swagger and stoop to offset his height. His companion had high cheekbones and eyebrows that gave him a pretty look, perfectly disguised. At first Lorina and Tia thought he was a woman until he walked with difficulty in the heeled shoes. After walking for two blocks a horse and buggy rode up next to the fugitives and stopped. "Care for a lift," said the driver, an older man dressed in brown silk. "Thanks, Dibson," Lorina said and the four climbed in. Inside the estate the men changed into silk clothing representative of merchant sons and met Lord Buranigan, the girls, and Dibson in the study. As they entered, everyone's attention focused on the new comer. He wore a cloak and hood that covered his head and features. Lorina looked at the him suspiciously and said to Yeourg, "Who is this?" Yeourg held out an arm and said, "Meet his Excellency, Jahradan, Prince of Elvendan." Jahradan, Prince of the Elves, pulled back his hood revealing upswept eyebrows and pointed ears common to his kind. With the grace of a dancer, he bowed low in front of Lorina and in a musical voice said, "Greetings, wonderful princess, I take pleasure in our meeting." Lorina stared at the elf and then at her brother, wondering what could happen next. ********** "Let's go," shouted Pahl, digging his heals into the sides of his horse. Pahl had gotten up early and after rehearsing the mahte' Hawk had taught him the previous day, he prepped his horse and waited for his companions. When they had come outside after breakfast, Pahl was waiting. "Hold up," yelled Derek, laughing. "You're a bit anxious today." "Just ready for adventure," Pahl yelled back and pulling on the reins, made his horse kick up on its hind legs in an impressive stand. "Not bad," said Derek to Hawk, who simply shook his head. Hawk gave the stable boy a coin for saddling his and Derek's horses. The two mounted, meeting an anxious Pahl on the road. When the three had ridden several miles, Hawk stopped and dismounted. "Get down," Hawk said to the two boys and they knew immediately what was next. "Show me the mahte' you have learned." After tying the horses to a nearby tree, Pahl and Derek immediately went through the now familiar movements that made up what Hawk called a mahte'. After they finished, Hawk said, "Good, that was very good. The first mahte' represents simple movements. Though foreign to your body, it helps to develop a natural flow that other mahte' will build upon. "The second mahte' is a series of defensive movements called dohkas. I will teach you the first dohka, which involves blocking an oncoming punch, like this." Hawk demonstrated the move by swinging his left arm up from his side and across his chest. The two boys eagerly mimicked the move and Hawk walked around them, repositioning their arms as necessary and giving them encouragement. After several minutes, Hawk stood in front of each boy, throwing a series of punches and telling him to block them. He started relatively slowly and increased his speed to just under real time. Derek and Pahl could hardly believe the effectiveness of this dohka. They had never had any formal fighter's training other than that of normal boys. Their father and even the enigmatic Bojax Freed had frowned on violence leaving the boys virtually untrained in defense. Hawk taught the boys several other dohkas. Some that involved blocks using the legs and others that involved hand and foot combinations. Hawk taught them seven dohkas. Practiced in a combination series, these seven dohkas created the second mahte'. Two hours passed while Hawk let them practice these new techniques. Hawk felt pleased with their ability to learn so quickly and allowed them to go unheeded while he watched. He knew immediately that these young men would become dangerous opponents if allowed to master the seven mahte'. He attributed this to their eagerness to learn and lack of other formal training. To some extent this worried him. He had never trained someone before. Even though all instructors at the Keep were not Retter, they did have Retter Masters to guide them. Hawk did not have other instructors or the Keep's archives full of history and mastery of the Path a Retter follows. Still, Hawk knew these two young men needed some training if they were to survive the confrontations they would likely have. Also, he hoped the Keep would provide some assistance, especially if he could find his old master. Another concern Hawk had was that most Retter trainees would spend several months on each mahte' learning the intricacies of every move. Hawk was unsure if he was teaching the boys too quickly, not allowing them the time to learn and gain insight on the body movements. Still, he thought their need to defend themselves was paramount. He turned his attention to Pahl who was now blocking every one of Derek's somewhat flimsy attacks. When they finished, Pahl shouted excitedly, "I am invincible!" At this, Hawk stepped over to where the Pahl stood sweating in triumph. Without preamble, Hawk executed a reversed spinning sweep kick that brushed Pahl's legs out from under him and landed him on his backside with a hard thump. "No one is invincible, Pahl. In time you may become quite capable, but for now remember that confidence is good, overconfidence is quick death. Repeat that." Pahl and Derek repeated the proverb. Reaching out his hand, Hawk helped Pahl to his feet and said, "It's time to go, but after lunch we will begin again." Both boys nodded and went to get the horses. Not long after they mounted Hawk spotted the break off trail running north-east that represented Old Keep Road. As the three companions rode toward the break, Hawk wondered at the outcropping and lack of attention given this once active road. Where a nicely adorned sign used to hang giving direction, now a broken stump of a once elegant post stood bent with age and abuse. The road was grown over with weeds, grass, and small shrubbery, that spoke of disuse for years. Even the several farms that Hawk recalled surrounding the mouth of this road stood abandoned and appeared to have been burned down several times. The entire turn off trail looked eerie and forbidding. "Hawk," said Pahl feebly, "How can you be certain this is the way? I mean, do we really want to go down this trail? It looks rather dangerous." Coming out of his reverie, Hawk said, "This is the way to the Keep. It is also the only practical road in. The Keep lies at the base of the two mountains you see to the north and east and is surrounded by thick forest. It is probably for this reason it has been forgotten." While the geographical location Hawk described was true, he was well aware the Retter and the Keep were not forgotten, but brushed under some political carpet. "How far is it from here?" Derek asked. "Can we make it by nightfall?" "I intend to," said Hawk. "We are about four hours from the outer grounds and another hour from the actual Keep proper. Because of the road conditions, I think it best we eat now and run through your exercises. We will arrive before sundown." After eating and practicing for an hour, Pahl and Derek were eager to be under way, despite the conditions of the trail. Hawk led, keeping a quick pace that made Pahl and Derek push their horses to stay with him. He alternated between a canter and a quick gait that assured them of speed in spite of the course trail. As he had when Hawk first traveled with the young men several weeks ago, Hawk senses were strained to the maximum. He wanted to be sure the group would not encounter any surprises on their trek toward the Keep. Reaching the outer grounds, Hawk was surprised that he had not felt any disturbances during the ride. They had only taken one break and reached the grounds in just over three hours, saving almost an hour travel time. Even though their pace made the trip shorter than planned, Hawk had anticipated some encounter. Hawk expected to meet brigands, hunters, or simple forest dwellers somewhere along the road, but all remained quite. Perhaps, the closing of the Keep left the forest uninhabited. How could this be, thought Hawk. To his remembrance, the forests around the Keep always boasted of wild life and at least a moderate community of earth preservationists. Hawk looked around. The grounds as he remembered were farming lands and botany gardens that stretched the last few miles before the actual structure that made up the academy. It began with a ceremonial archway made from six interwoven trees that crossed over the road. It was at this point that Hawk stopped and gazed out at the once familiar terrain that marked the training and studying grounds. The once beautiful gardens were non-existent and only sparsely populated crops spotted the numerous hashed up farmlands. Hawk could tell that the crops were just ancestral seeds of well-tended farms that grew more from natural instinct than a skilled hand. Hawk shook the stallion's reins and rode solemnly through the weather beaten archway. Derek and Pahl followed close behind, both wondering at Hawk's mannerisms, but wisely remaining silent. The remaining miles Hawk traveled purposefully, almost majestically, riding high in the saddle and looking straight forward, never gazing left or right. Derek and Pahl tried to mimic his disposition, but failed greatly, not being able to keep from looking around at the devastated landscape. The area seemed not only deserted but thrashed and in a state of upheaval. Small homes and fences looked demolished or burned to the ground leaving only blackened stone foundations. But most alarming was the absence of natural sounds; birds, insects, and forest animals were either non-existent or uncommonly quite and more than once Pahl looked at Derek with genuine concern about the solemnity. As the three reached the border of the actual Keep itself, the silence screamed in Pahl's and Derek's ears. Not only were the sounds of animals not there, but also the sound of the wind and air. If it were not for the heavy breathing and clopping of his horse Pahl would have thought he had gone deaf. This uncharacteristic atmosphere disoriented both young men to the point of instability. If it had not been for Hawk, both would have turned their horses and ran. Hawk noticed the dilemma assaulting his companion's senses and held both his fists in front of them. Closing his eyes, he opened both his hands and then spread his arms wide as if in a dying pose. A popping sound like that of an uncorked bottle discharged in their ears and shortly thereafter the normal sounds of the forest returned. "What was that?" Asked Pahl. Turning around to face the Keep, Hawk spread his arm out gesturing the entire area. "There is a spell over this place. Not a very grand one, but effective nonetheless. I hadn't noticed it until I saw your faces." "Did you remove the spell," asked Pahl excitedly. "No," said Hawk shaking his head. "I just terminated its affect on you." "Why was there a spell here?" Derek asked. "I'm not sure," said Hawk pondering. "I imagine to detour visitors, but I do not see any evidence of that recently. Also, the vaults in the Keep that contain archaic libraries and artifacts are under powerful magic that make this spell obsolete." Hawk goaded the stallion into the main courtyard where several defunct fountains and chipped statues decorated the front of the ancient buildings that made up the Keep. Old hand cut sandstone filled the entire courtyard. Throughout the courtyard set several marble planters of varying colors that apparently housed small trees. The planters were exquisite in design, but lacked luster from years of neglect. The cloudy day gave the entire complex a forlorn appearance. Several large corridors connected the four main buildings of the keep, but the pained glass in most of the corridors had been broken out. Hawk looked over to the two southern wings, where he had once stayed and noted that they remained intact though the wooden window shudders were either missing or dangling from rusted hinges. Hawk shook his head in dismay. This once awesome learning center and guardian of his country's beliefs was shattered and deserted. Hawk dismounted and the brothers followed suit, tying their horses to a nearby pole. The three companions walked up the steps to the main building and stood before its massive double doors. In irony, a marble sign above doors read: Holders of the Light, Keepers of the Path. The gold inlaid lettering was chipped and worn and a pictorial of a hand holding a torch was severely faded. "Wait here and watch the horses," said Hawk as he opened one of the doors. He was not surprised to feel the door give way easily, knowing that the entire complex was built around sophistication and technology that grossly dwarfed the standard in the Kingdom. Hawk moved into the carpeted ante chamber and let the door close behind him. He stood for a moment recalling the memories that had haunted him since he left this place. Entering the Keep was difficult for Hawk. He had left in shame some ten years ago. Years before it was very uncommon for a trainee to leave the academy, because of the great honor of becoming a Retter. Tradition and practice dictated that only the natural son or daughter of a previous Retter could be submitted for admittance into the Keep. Hawk was the first to break this ancient code and he thought it only because of the respect and high rank of his master, Jeshur Baerd. In truth, it was Hawk's inner strength, power, and commitment that persuaded the Elders to accept him as one capable of becoming a Retter. Unfortunately, several students as well as instructors made Hawk's training difficult. They would provoke him and challenge his right to be among them. As Hawk walked through the main chamber into several ante chambers he noticed a plaque with distinct symbols representing the Protectorates--those ancient white cylinders depicting a Retter's inner wisdom and strength. He remembered that every student's final task involved hiking to a certain area of the mountain directly behind the keep, and in seven days return with their own Protectorates. He had left prior to accomplishing this task after an extensive argument and fight with one of the more vocal instructors. He had beaten the instructor and after much soul searching, decided that he was unworthy to continue his training. He left, never to return. Walking through the corridors and rooms Hawk felt confident in his decision to confront his past, find his master, and fulfill his destiny. He looked out a shattered window at Pahl and Derek. Meeting them had become much more to him than he imagined, changing him from a distant loner to a companion of ones he cared for deeply and making him a better person in the process. He continued his search through most of the old studies and rooms he had access to, not wanting to challenge the magic of those sealed or warded. Finding the complex deserted he went back outside. "There is no one here," Hawk informed Derek and Pahl as he exited the main chamber. "And apparently no clue if my old master is alive or where anyone may have gone." If Hawk was disappointed no one could tell. "What happened here, Hawk?" Derek asked. He and Pahl sat on a partially demolished stone wall. Both were picking at the loose rock that crumbled at pressure from their fingers. "I don't know." "I do, if yer intristed?" Derek and Pahl stood quickly and Hawk spun around to see an old man holding a rake come around the east side of the building. The man walked in a bent over fashion and wore a gray-white beard that nearly reached his knees. Dirty sandals protected his feet and an old dirt caked robe covered his aging body. He looked ready to fall into the nearest grave and Pahl wondered if he hadn't just crawled out of one. "Who are you?" Hawk asked, surprised he never saw the man previously and had not felt his presence. "I'm known as the caretaker of this here place," the old man replied, vainly attempting to stand straighter, more proudly. When this failed, he looked sternly at the three travelers. "And who are you?" "I am called Hawk and my companions are Pahl and Derek. Can you tell us what happened here, and where the masters have gone?" Hawk waited while the old man sat on a nearby concrete wall. "I can tell you, I can," the caretaker said, then paused. "But first tell me why you came here..." before he could finish he went into a fit of coughing that threatened to dislodge him from his seat. When he caught his breath he finished, "and who you seek?" "I think you may need to seek a healer," said Hawk with some amusement. "Don't smart me, young whippersnapper!" The caretaker said. "I could still whoop the likes of you." Again he began coughing which made Derek and Pahl smile. "Now answer my questions!" "I come seeking Jeshur Baerd, my old master." "Well no one’s been here for years, maybe you should try Surik, I heard there's a number of losers there." "Don't get funny with me, old man, just tell me what happened here?" "Who's gittin' funny? You can see what happened. Everything was destroyed. If you had eyes to see you could find what you seek." Derek and Pahl exchanged glances, but didn't interrupt Hawk. The old man began coughing and they could see Hawk was loosing patience. "Who destroyed this area?" Hawk asked, when the caretaker regained composure. "Evil men, with evil intentions," the old man said and then after several coughs added, "I suppose." "Were you here when it happened?" "Humph, I've been here a long time. Yes, a very long time." "That's not what I asked. I said..." "I know what you said, young man," The caretaker looked at him as if he were an idiot. "I am old and tired. Rest is what I need. You come back when you are seeing well again." Hawk looked at the caretaker, unmasked confusion sketched on his face. The caretaker rose and using his rake as a walking cane, climbed the steps to the great double doors. In a fit of coughing he shuffled through the doors and disappeared. "Let us leave this place," Hawk said with some contempt. The three gathered their horses and rode out of the courtyard feeling tired and dejected. No one spoke, for all knew the disappointment each other felt. Riding down the trail Pahl asked, "What now, Hawk? Do we continue to look for your master or are we going to Surik?" Derek interjected, "Don't you think we should find out what happened here? Maybe the old man has more answers than we think." In the lead, Hawk jerked the reins, stopping the stallion. The two brothers rode up on either side of him. Backing the stallion and turning around Hawk called over his shoulder, "Follow me!" Immediately he broke into a gallop, heading back to the courtyard and the front of the Keep. Kicking into the sides of their own horses the two brothers followed at a gallop. The great black stallion skidded to a halt sending loose rock, gravel, and dirt flying. Hawk leaped from his mount's back and strode the steps leading to the large double doors. "Jeshur!" Hawk yelled. "Jeshur Baerd! I know you're here. Come out." "Quit your ranting and raving," the old caretaker said as he appeared from around the same corner as before. "I'm old, but not deaf. And I told you Master Baerd is gone." Hawk smiled at the old man and said, "You can remove the disguise, Jeshur, I can see now." "Yes, I can tell." The old caretaker, dressed in ragged clothing, faded before Hawk and the two brothers who had just ridden up. In his place stood an aged man, but not as old as he had previously looked. He strode forward with a long flowing white hair and a white beard that reached his chest. He wore an elegant white robe, clasped in the middle by a silver chain, and clean, leather boots rimmed with white fur. In place of the old rusted rake, he held a five foot tall staff that was white in color. "Amazing!" Said a wide eyed Pahl. "Not really," said Hawk. "He used a familiar Retter illusion that I should have seen through from the start." "Yes, I am quite surprised at you, Hawk," Jeshur Baerd chastised. "You are slipping." Hawk embraced his old master saying, "It has been a long time." "Too long, my son, too long." Tears welled up in both Hawk's and Jeshur's eyes, and Hawk realized with some trepidation that he had not cried since his parents had died. After composing himself Hawk asked, "Jeshur, what happened to the Keep and the Council of Masters?" "Come inside and I will prepare a meal," said Jeshur and in serious tones added, "There is much we need to discuss. Times are most grievous." Jeshur showed the three a modified stable area where their horses could roam and eat and then led them to a dining area inside a building to the rear of the main complex. While Jeshur prepared the meal, Hawk made introductions and explained briefly his life after leaving the keep, some ten years ago. He went into more detail about the recent struggles with the Southern warriors and his plight with the Kempter boys, Tia, and Lorina, ending with his teaching of the two mahte' to Pahl and Derek. When he finished, Jeshur said, "So, the young men show talent?" He was genuinely excited about this. "Yes," said Hawk. "And Pahl seems particularly gifted. "We will have to investigate that further, but for now you must know what has happened." Jeshur served everyone plates of fresh, steamed vegetables, bread and stew. Then he began a long and sullen story. "Five years ago a messenger from the King arrived with an order to close the Keep. The Council of Masters thought it expedient to visit the Magistrate at the capitol and voice our concern about this outrageous order. A young Master, Conray Jarles, went with two apprentices. He never returned. A month later a envoy of soldiers arrived under royal seal ordering us to disperse and begin closure. Most, myself included, not willing to break oath to the kingdom, vacated the compound. But a few of the younger Retter including several apprentices and instructors refused, claiming perpetual right and religious freedom. A pitched battle ensued with the soldiers losing and retreating. "The masters and other Retter who had not fought attempted to soothe the rebel ones, warning them of their treasonous act and the impending response from the king that would surely come. But those who had fought were sick with anger and sought to track down the fleeing soldiers. Before they could organize and leave, we witnessed a host of southern warriors, several hundred strong, riding in through the grounds destroying everything in their path and amazingly baring royal banners of the Von Allman family. They had trampled the fleeing soldiers and killed them without struggle. Their ranks were intermixed with powerful creatures none had seen before and only the old scrolls speak of. We were vastly unprepared for the horrible battle that took place that day or the losses that would follow. Few survived the conflict to witness its ferocity and those that did were tracked down by the leader of this group, a huge warrior possessing dark powers and commanding those evil creatures of darkness. "I believe this leader or one of his servants is the one seeking to destroy you. But know this, Hawk, the capitol is already compromised and soon our entire kingdom and nation that we love will be subjected to southern rule at the mercy of one most evil." Hawk's face had gone white with surprise and fear. Though suspected, he never thought the situation had become so grim. With mixed anger and frustration he said, "Jeshur, what do we do?" Jeshur Baerd looked at each person sitting at the table in turn. Then solemnly he stated, "Simply, we must destroy this threat. And it must be done at the root." He paused letting the magnitude of his words sink in, then explained, "For the last few years I have hidden myself from those seeking to destroy me and searched the ancient archives for the origin of this evil and possible ways to challenge its power. Remember, a group of warriors and foul creatures destroyed the Masters and Retters of a powerful belief that stems back thousands of years. Also, remember, this same group was but a shadow of the actual power behind this threat. "I have found that an evil has been loosed upon the land that stems from the halls of the Keep itself. A master of our faith has turned dark and sought powers not meant for those who look toward good. This could be the only explanation for the havoc wrought here." "But how could we stop such a one that defeated the Council of Masters?" Asked Hawk incredulously. Jeshur shook his head in pitied remembrance, "After decades of calm living, the masters had become lax and soft. Retter did not travel the land as in ancient times and because of this, the evil of the dark Path was able to take root. It must be faced and defeated." "Will you face it, Jeshur?" Hawk said, almost knowing his reply. Jeshur smiled briefly then looking directly into Hawk's eyes said, "You, Hawk, must retrieve the Protectorates waiting you in the mountain. You must take upon yourself the mantle of Retter and with companions worthy of the Light of the Path, you will be victorious. I have sought this answer and envisioned it as the only way. Being old, I cannot accompany you, but will remain here defending our lore and faith. Early tomorrow you must leave on your seven day trial. Have faith and courage and you will return stronger than you have ever known. During your test, I will continue to give Pahl and Derek the mahte' training you started. They will stand by your side, for without them you will fail, I have seen this. "Follow me now to the old apprentice quarters and rest. Tomorrow will begin our challenge against the most powerful being ever to roam the lands." Awestruck by the connotations the great master, Jeshur Baerd, had placed upon the shoulders of the three companions, they followed him quietly and thoughtfully to the east wing. After they had lain down on soft beds, Jeshur raised his staff and waved it in a circling motion. It glowed a soft white light and his guests fell asleep dreaming dreams of heroism and courage. Jeshur walked solemnly back to the main library, hoping his study and visions would prove correct. As he gazed out a dirty window into the destruction of the grounds as he had for five years, he feared the spread of this disease from the South had gained too much ground and his old apprentice had waited too long to return. CHAPTER 9 Tia had seen several Elves before, but had never heard one speak. She found the Elven Prince's accent and musical voice enlightening and beautiful, almost as enrapturing as Lorina's brother, Yeourg. From the time she had met him, Yeourg had become more of the man she had always wanted: Strong, dangerous, and decisive, with wealth and power beyond what she had imagined as a little girl. In the back of her mind, Pahl's image nagged her, but she quickly brushed this aside and watched Yeourg with the same awe as their first meeting. "Jahradan was not actually killed," Yeourg said, speaking to Lorina, but making the comment general. "The Viceroy wanted the Magistrate to believe that the Prince of the Elves had been murdered by a member of the royal family. But now we know the truth and with Jahradan's testimony we can bring him under scrutiny. "The difficulty we face now, is how to assemble the Magistrate and allow Jahradan to speak unhindered." Yeourg and Jahradan took seats opposite the others. Lorina marked the Elven Prince's grace and mannerisms in contrast to her brother's boldness. In a sing-song voice Jahradan spoke, "I believe your most noble prince speaks wisely, when he proposes our plight. Your Viceroy can be quite persuasive and has many friends. Why he did not take my life previously, I do not know, but I do know that had he wanted, I would not be with you now." Lord Buranigan shook his head. "Even Duke Odem would have difficulty calling a meeting at this hour. Had you been able to release your father he might have chanced offending the other members. As it is now, we can only wait until morning and attempt to convince the Duke that the Prince of the Elves' testimony is enough to call an emergency meeting. Hopefully, the Viceroy's personal guards will be too busy searching for his valuable escaped prisoner to know what we're doing." "There is more," Jahradan said making everyone turn toward him. "Your leaders and perhaps even the Viceroy have been deceived. I was sent by our Blessed Father, may he live forever, not just because of your King's request." Yeourg looked on the Elven Prince with some suspicion at this statement, but allowed him to continue. "Our people have never been too involved in international trade. We provide for ourselves and only infrequently deal with other nations, most least of all the Southern Clans. We find them...less than honorable. We do however honor the treaty set by our forefathers with your nation and in so doing come seeking your alliance and aid. "Our sources tell us that the once numerous and separated clans of the Southland have united under a single banner, under the direction and leadership of a great and powerful warlord. This warlord has sent messengers demanding our fealty. When rejected, he warned us to abstain from communicating with you, claiming that Nordenland and the Sudkar, as he calls his nation, are one. He has not yet declared war on our nation, but skirmishes on southern border are now frequent and have increased intensity." As Yeourg began to rise, Jahradan stopped him with a restraining hand. "One last thing, O' Prince of Nordenland. We are most certain that some spell of deception has been placed on your Viceroy. When the messengers from the warlord last came, they attempted to ensorcell our leaders. Our magic is strong and we thwarted them, but to even bring such magery into our inner circle, speaks of power unheard of in my generation. Be wary, O' Prince, the threat is real." Yeourg remained seated, but not without difficulty. With intense emotion common to the young prince he said, "If this is true, than both of our nations are at risk! We must convince Duke Odem to hear your words and convene the Magistrate. If I must, I will cut off Lord Bernit's head myself, if he dare stand in the way!" "Yeourg!" Lorina said in shock. "His point is well taken," Lord Buranigan said modestly. "From what Prince Jahradan has said, we must act quickly, but I believe the Magistrate will be much harder to convince than Duke Odem. Even if you were sitting at the head of the Magistrate, it would take some form of proof to marshal the armies. No one will dispute the Sudkar combined as a nation represents a threat, but going to war is not an appetizing dish on anyone's plate. "It is late and I think best that you all rest now. I will hide all of you, except for Tia, in the cellar. From this point forward Tia will pose as one of my messenger's. I cannot trust anyone else besides Dibson, and he may be watched. About midday tomorrow I will send Tia to Duke Odem and appraise him of our situation." The tired men and women rose to follow Dibson into the cellar. He supplied them with fresh blankets and pillows, except for Jahradan who slept in a sitting position with his legs crossed. Dibson showed Tia to an upstairs room where she would stay. Though small and only modestly decorated, the room provided a comfort Tia had never known. Late the next morning Tia arose to Dibson's knocking on her door. He led her into the kitchen where she ate breakfast with Lord Buranigan. Dibson assured the two of privacy by having the other servants of the estate work outside or run errands. During her breakfast Lord Buranigan explained to Tia where she would find Duke Odem and how she could contact him. He made it clear that he wanted her to leave after lunch, which would keep less suspicion on the purpose of her visit. When Tia left the estate she first went to the park directly across the road. She spent an hour there casually roaming through the park or sitting at a wood bench in pretended thought. She took notice of the active patrols on foot and horseback questioning every suspicious looking person. When she felt that any prying eye had lost interest in her, she walked across the park and slowly down the cobblestone street amongst other street goers. After traveling almost a half mile through winding streets she hailed a coach and instructed the driver to a modest trinket shop that happened to reside near Duke Odem's estate. The ride took nearly half an hour because of the afternoon marketplace. Even in the Fall, Surik boasted a large market. Arriving at Titleberry Trinkets, Tia tipped the driver and entered several other nearby shops, casually inspecting goods. She still remained leery of the Viceroy's agents and did her best to appear a casual shopper if she was followed. When she felt she had made an appropriate appearance at the shops she entered the trinket shop. Several bells dangling from the door's center chimed as Tia entered. Another person was being assisted by a polite sales clerk as he looked through several old candle holders. Tia acted uninterested while the buyer and seller dickered over the actual value of a particularly tarnished set that bore brass handles. The haggling went on for some time and Tia hoped fervently that other customers would not enter the store before she could speak privately with the clerk. The sales clerk must have noticed Tia's nervousness and quickly ended the sale with a final price. The buyer agreed, paid the clerk and left with what Tia would have considered junk. Approaching the young Sojourn woman, the sales clerk flashed a quick smile and asked, "May I help you Miss?" Without wasting time Tia responded, "I am in need of Roast Duck." The clerk looked over Tia's shoulder and out a near window and then responded quietly, "That would be found at Chaffee's Broiler, but only for supper on week's end." The salesman had replaced his smile with an intense stare. Tia didn't blink and only followed with the next pattern statement, "It is week's end, is it not?" Finishing the password, the clerk replied, "Yes, follow me please." He turned quickly and led Tia through a locked door behind the counter. The door led to several uninteresting storage rooms on the right and an unkempt office on the left. They entered the office and the clerk closed a flimsy door behind them. In a soft voice the clerk asked. "What is your business with the Duke?" Tia looked directly into the clerk's eyes gauging his intent and found little to mark his thoughts. She stared at him for what seemed long moments and finally said, "It is not my position to speak to any but the Duke." "You will tell me or convince me of your intent or leave now, Miss." The clerk said this with a cold certainty that left no doubt in Tia's mind that this man was more than a mere salesman in a surely unprofitable tinker shop. Not wishing to lose the opportunity to complete her mission, Tia offered, "Lord Buranigan has sent me and I am instructed to speak only to the Duke." The man waited and Tia finished, "It is a matter of most importance." "We shall see," said the clerk. He instructed Tia to face the door and after what sounded to Tia like wood grinding on stone he allowed her to turn back around. A hatchway leading to a back room at the Dukes estate lay open to her. "Wait in the antechamber on the other side," the clerk stated flatly. With only a slight lifting of one corner of his mouth he added, "Not often that the Duke deals with Sojourns." Tia could not tell if the comment was sarcastic or good natured, but she smiled and thanked the man anyway. No sense in making enemies unnecessarily, she had enough of those already. Entering the unremarkable room from a short corridor that connected the estate with the shop, Tia immediately reviewed her options should this prove a negative event. She quickly found that they were few and none would prove very effective should the need arise to escape. Resigning to the knowledge that she had gotten here without arrest, she found a comfortable sofa and relaxed. Dim oil lamps lit the antechamber where Tia waited for over an hour. Growing up where patience often saved one's life, she remained calm and alert. Several times she had heard footsteps in a presumed adjacent hallway, but no one had entered the outer room since she arrived. Another hour went by and Tia began to wonder if the Duke actually knew she was there. She debated the thought of going into the main room, but decided against it after finding the door locked from the outside. She felt confident that she could pick the lock, but explaining the act might lose some credibility with a noble of Duke Odem's stature. Several voices and light entering from under the door to the main room brought Tia to her feet. She stood quietly and felt a hint of nervousness as the lock on the door clicked. Brushing one hand through her hair, she prepared an appropriate greeting. The door swung open easily and two finely dressed men of middle age entered the room. They inspected Tia briefly and then one stood on each side of the doorway allowing a larger, older man to enter. The older man wore a simple blue robe over silk breeches and shirt. He had a medium sized beard and mustache and though large, he was not obese and he held himself in a way that showed he still commanded a physically fit body. His eyes were soft, but his face reflected years of difficult decisions that would cost him longevity. Tia studied him and knew immediately that she stood before the second most powerful man in the Kingdom--the Duke of Surik, Chairman of the Magistrate. She assumed correctly that the two men on either side of Duke Odem were body guards and although unseen, they probably had access to several deadly weapons under their loose clothing. Bowing low as she had learned from Lord Buranigan, Tia paid respect. "Greetings, young Sojourn," Duke Odem said kindly. His voice flowed smoothly and with the resonance of a practiced speaker. "I am the Duke Odem, of which I assume you already knew, and these are my companions, Dellen and Rey. I apologize for the wait, but I have been quite busy of late. Please, be seated and we shall discuss what brought you here." The Duke indicated that Tia sit were she had previously and she obliged. Dellen brought the Duke a chair from one of the corners and then he and Rey remained standing on either side as Duke Odem seated himself. "Please, speak freely messenger," Duke Odem said. "Um, thank you, your Highness," Tia fumbled. "Your Grace, is the appropriate title," corrected the Duke without chastisement. "Yes, I am sorry, your Grace," said Tia taking a deep breath to compose herself. "I was sent by Lord Buranigan to inform you of Prince Yeourg von Allmen's whereabouts and the well being of Jahradan, Prince of the Elves." If the Duke was surprised by the revelation he hid it well. "Continue," he said. Tia cleared her throat and said, "The Prince wishes to speak to the Magistrate on the matter of Jahradan's disappearance." When the Duke made no comment she added, "He feels it important that the Elven Prince speak and relate his story of possible war with the South." After a moment’s pause, the Duke asked, "And what do you think?" Tia was taken aback from a question she had fully not anticipated. She thought for a moment and then said, "I think it wise to meet and resolve the threats. I have lived most of my life in South, your Grace, and I have heard what the Elf Prince has said. He is right." "Well stated, young Sojourn," Duke Odem praised, "you may become more than what you hope someday." Tia flushed from the compliment. "I will prepare the meeting for the seventh hour. Tell Lord Buranigan to have the Princes meet at Two Gulls tavern at this time. My personal guard will escort them to the meeting." Tia said, "Yes, your Grace." Duke Odem said, "Dellen will hail you a coach, but make several stops on your return trip and purchase a few items. We want to keep the dogs off the trail, you see." "Clearly," Tia said and felt elated by her accomplishment. Following the Duke's instructions, Tia left his estate and went to the market place purchasing goods that would give her the appearance of a servant buying for supper. She only had two hours until the meeting so she did not waste too much time before going back to Lord Buranigan's estate. When she arrived, Dibson quickly ushered her to the same back room where they had previous meetings. Yeourg, Lorina, Lord Buranigan, and Jahradan, waited seated around the room all looking anxious for news. "We were beginning to worry," Lord Buranigan began. Tia shrugged. "I worried too after two hours in a back room waiting for the Duke." Yeourg leaned forward, "What did he decide?" A smile lifted the corners of the young Sojourns mouth. "He has agreed to convene the Magistrate." Tension in the room eased dramatically. "Furthermore, he instructed me to tell you to meet at Two Gull's tavern, by the seventh hour. His guards will escort you to the Magistrate." "Excellent!" Yeourg said standing. He rubbed his hands together and said, "We may defeat Bernit's plans yet. Lord Buranigan, can you prepare the necessary arrangements in short order? We haven't much time." "Consider it done, Milord." Yeourg smiled. "Good then the rest of us will wait here until called upon." He turned toward Tia and said, "Tia, you did well." Tia took a deep breath, and looked toward Lorina who smiled at her warmly. She looked back at the Prince and with a curt nod she said, "Thank you, Milord." Two compliments from the most influential men in the nation and especially from one as handsome as Prince Yeourg von Allmen, sent Tia's self esteem through the roof. She floated on air for the next hours while everyone prepared for the meeting. She did not know whether she would be invited to attend the meeting, but it did not matter. She would be satisfied serving as a dish washer for the Buranigan estate for the next week. ********** Yeourg sat next to Lord Buranigan at a small table in the corner of Two Gull's tavern. Across from him and to the right Dibson, Lorina, Tia, and Prince Jahradan ate a modest meal and spoke in light tones. Prince Jahradan wore a dipping hat that covered his ears and cast a shadow on his upswept ears, hopefully detracting attention to his elven features. Against the chance that the meeting would go awry, Yeourg thought it best that his sister and Tia come with him. If anything did happen negatively they would fall back on their plan of escape via the harbor. Another reason why Yeourg thought the meeting at the Two Gull's would prove effective--it was a sailor's pub near the docks. The doors to the tavern swung wide and four armed men entered led by one Yeourg recognized as Dellen, Duke Odem's personal guard. Yeourg rose quickly and greeted him and then motioned for the his company to exit. Outside, several heavily armed horseman surrounded a coach with a driver and two crossbowmen standing post. Other foot soldiers stood strewn up and down the street, bringing curious looks from passerby and residents. All of the soldiers wore a blue leopard insignia on their chest, marking them the Duke of Surik's men. Lorina, Tia, and Prince Jahradan entered the coach while Yeourg mounted a brown gelding next to Dellen. Yeourg wanted to ride into the Magistrate in full view of everyone. Without delay the procession began and anyone still on the streets at that hour cleared the way. The pounded of hoofs and clanking of weapons brought many residents to their doors and windows to see the commotion. Several citizens recognized their prince at the front of the cortege and some of the more vocal began shouted his name. A number of residents were decommissioned soldiers from the garrison and these donned their uniforms and joined the procession. Before long, the citizens and decommissioned soldiers following Prince Yeourg had outnumbered Duke Odem's men. The prince looked back to see that his entourage had grown into a veritable parade. The people apparently felt that this march represented the end of Viceroy Bernit's oppressive reign. Yeourg replaced his smile with a grim look of determination--his people would not be disappointed. The Viceroy's own men guarded the entrance to the courtyard that housed the Magistrate, however, several of Duke Odem's guards could be seen throughout their ranks. Yeourg halted his procession in front of the gates. Dellen shouted, "Stand clear and allow your prince to enter!" If the captain of the guard harbored ideas of resistance, he abandoned them and ordered his men to open the gates. The shouts and cheers of Yeourg's followers assured the captain that he had made a wise decision. Entering into the courtyard, Yeourg dismounted and led his sister followed by Jahradan and Tia into the main building. At the same time the courtyard filled with soldiers loyal to the prince mingled with those of the Viceroy, but the citizens of Surik and the decommissioned soldiers now numbered in the hundreds which dwarfed the size of Viceroy guards. Yeourg pushed past ceremonial guards gaining access to the Congressional Hall that now held the Magistrate in session. Several members stood as the prince entered and disrupted an argument between the Viceroy and Duke Odem. "Traitor!" Shouted the Viceroy when he saw the young prince. "Hold your tongue!" Admonished Duke Odem. "I am still Chairman of the Magistrate and I called this meeting." Noticing the lack of his own personal guards, the Viceroy refrained from further comment. "Your Highness," Duke Odem said standing and formally bowing. "Welcome to this emergency session held at your request. I believe you have some important news for the Magistrate." All eyes focused on the prince as he descending the steps to the main floor followed by an elf and two women. Dellen and several guards remained on the upper level as custom required. Yeourg von Allmen looked at each member of the Magistrate that he had grown up with before addressing them. "I and my family have been scrutinized by this one man," Yeourg said pointing to Viceroy Bernit. "And many of you have listened to his quite warnings and shadowy dark words. I ask that you now to listen to the voice of reason and the truth." His words were powerful and commanding filling the room with emotion. "Standing beside me is the testimony against our true enemies," Yeourg continued. "He will shed light upon those who stumble in darkness. He him and judge for yourselves!" Prince Jahradan stepped forward and bowed low before the assemblage. "I am Jahradan, Prince of Elvandan, and high ranking emissary to the Nordenland. I have condemning words for your Viceroy and difficult truths for all of you. I beseech you to listen to what I have come to say." In the musical voice common to his kind Jahradan began to explain the plans of the Sudkar and the Warlord as he had at Lord Buranigan's estate only with more detail. When Viceroy Bernit tried to interrupt he was silenced and remained quiet throughout Jahradan's dialogue. The elven prince then testified to Bernit's involvement to the astonishment of most of those in attendance. He explained the real reason for the Viceroy's reluctance to meet with the elves and how sorcery and magic played a major role on the development of the Sudkar. Many within the assembly had already witnessed or heard rumors from their own hometowns about the strange happenings in the countryside. This, coupled with the elven prince's testimony brought belief of the southern threat closer to many of their hearts. When Jahradan finished, Duke Odem, took the floor and a unanimous vote stripped the Viceroy of all power. Subsequently, several guards took him into custody and in a final bid to redeem himself Bernit told the council that the royal family were under protection at his own estate. That night, for the first time in weeks, the von Allmen royalty sat together in the palace. Although the King's illness remained, the uniting of Lorina to the family gave him recuperating strength that would eventually bring healing. The palace servants prepared a splendid dinner and the family ate alone together. Duke Odem, Lord Buranigan, Prince Jahradan, Tia, and several other nobility ate in a separate dining area celebrating the return of the crown. By princess Lorina's order, Tia would remain in the palace in a guest quarters. Earlier, the king had declared to the gathered citizen's that a royal festival would be held in the palace courtyard tomorrow ushering in the lift on martial law and a re-establishment of the royal garrison. This brought cheers and cries from those who had felt the oppression of the Viceroy. Because Viceroy Bernit had been Marcus von Allmen closest friend for many years, the king passed only limited sentences upon him, virtually banishing him from the capitol and removing his titles and properties--a light sentence by anyone's standards. Celebrations visited the city of Surik late into the evening as word spread of the coming festival and demise of martial law. In the palace Tia sat alone on a goose feathered bed in a colorful, immaculately decorated room. She could scarcely believe that she was part of the last few days of adventure and friends of a royal family with seemingly unending wealth. Never in her life had she imagined sitting in a palace room in the largest city of Nordenland, with a royal princess as a friend. Her only friend, Tia corrected. Lorina. Why did she become my friend? Tia thought. She thought of herself as nothing more than a poor Sojourn who grew up in an environment in stark contrast the Lorina's. Furthermore, her own people had captured the princess with the intentions of slavery. Nevertheless, during the weeks prior to meeting the young men from Aubon, she had grown to love and respect the Nordenlander. It was almost a welcome decision for her to release Lorina when the time came. And now she had met her idol, Prince Yeourg, Lorina's brother. She fell asleep thinking of ways to seduce the handsome prince. Alone with his eldest son, Marcus von Allmen lay resting. The king, though ill, wanted to speak with Yeourg about the difficult matter of the elves and the Sudkar after they had discussed all that had occurred over the past weeks. He knew that a council would be convened over the next few days to decide a course of action, but he wanted time to impress upon his son what he thought would prove most effective. "It is good to see you, Yeourg." The king spoke slowly, still weak from the illness. "And you, Father," said Yeourg, sitting in a chair next to his father's bed. "You have done well, my son. You have impressed me with your ingenuity." Yeourg said nothing, not used to his father's open praise. Marcus von Allmen always treated him with kindness, but theirs was a house of royalty and compliments were sorely earned. "Though I wish it could be different, I think that you may need to accompany the elven prince to his homeland," the king paused momentarily. "The queen will not like my decision, but you have proven yourself as a capable leader and contact. Besides, it will give you experience in international relations." Yeourg smiled at his father. "I have also been thinking about going with Jahradan. Lorina and I have talked about it." A frown clouded the kings face. "My youngest daughter has already been gone too long on cross country service. You mother would not allow it." "Lorina is quite capable, father," Yeourg pressed. "I think she has already told Jahradan she is going and bringing her charming thief friend." The reference to Tia lightened the king's mood, he had already heard of her capabilities and brash attitude. "Me thinks that young Sojourn has been a bad influence on my royal daughter." Yeourg laughed openly at the comment. He knew that Lorina had changed considerably since before she went to the orphanage. She had grown up and matured in ways his other, older sisters, may never learn, despite their being married. "It is late, Father, you should rest." "I should, indeed," agreed the king. "Tell your mother that I await her pleasure." "I will," promised Yeourg. "But, considering she gossips with three daughters, it may be awhile." The king smiled closing his eyes. Yeourg rose and exited his father's chambers. Outside the room he spoke briefly with a page and then instructed the guard to remain diligent. The guard saluted and stood his post. For the next weeks the palace would be filled with high security until the last of Viceroy Bernit's influences were squelched. ********** It took a week after the festival for the high council to remove the martial law and restore order in the city and four more days to finally agree upon an initial set of plans regarding the Sudkar and the Elves. After that, most of the higher nobility left Surik returning to their own provinces. Their home cities demanded their attention. Since martial law was instated and chaos prevailed at the capitol they had to remain to ensure their own interests survived. That need had now passed and a veritable exodus from the crowded city began when the nobility and their consorts left. The initial plan was set that the royal army would begin organizing into several large factions that would be supported by the four major garrisons at the largest cities with the main faction stationed south of Surik. Duke Odem was named as Knight- General and several sub commanders had been named, but as yet, not appointed. A winter barracks would be built to house the large army, much larger than the conventional army. Part of the plan included a small delegation led by Prince Yeourg and Princess Lorina would accompany Prince Jahradan to obtain a critical alliance with the elves. Another delegation would be sent to the mountain dwarves apprising them of possible southern conflict and asking for committed alliance--although a loosely held alliance had already been in place with the dwarves it did not include full scale war. Yeourg wondered how his sister was able to obtain approval from the queen and join the delegation. He guessed that it had something to do with a mother-daughter meeting that occurred one night and lasted several hours. Still, Lorina impressed him, and her new friend had become quite the sultry young women. Everywhere he went, Tia seemed to materialize and the attractive young Sojourn was beginning to gain his attention. She was different than the other giggly girls that tried to gain the princes attention. Tia was sensuous and cunning, with a outlook on life vastly different than the court norm and body that stirred the imagination. If Yeourg did not watch himself he thought he might find himself in the young girls embrace before too long--which wasn't an unpleasant thought. Yeourg wanted to depart immediately, but his trip demanded planning and securing the necessary supplies to complete the journey safely. Lorina's plead to delay for another day also slowed the process. She wanted to wait for Hawk and his companions, but they should have arrived the day before and Yeourg could not wait indefinitely. He finally promised her that he would leave word with the palace guard that would instruct Hawk how to catch up with them should he arrive. He knew the promise was for naught, because he could not risk sabotage to his mission and leaving directions of their journey would allow for ambush. On the final night before their departure, Yeourg spent time with Jahradan asking his opinion of their preparations and whether he had forgotten anything necessary for success. He found that Jahradan was invaluable in assisting him in the preparing him for his first journey into Elvandan, the realm of the elves. Before leaving, Jahradan promised to teach Yeourg several greetings in the elven language to improve his elegance. Alone, Yeourg looked up when he heard a light tapping on the door to his room. He wondered what the guard wanted and arose, somewhat distracted. When he opened the door, the guard was gone and a scantily dressed Sojourn stood in the doorway. "Tia?" Yeourg asked, finding it hard to keep his eyes on her face. "I thought you might like some hot tea," Tia said, shaking her hair back from her face and holding out a tray with cups and a pot of steaming herbal tea. "That would be nice, but where's the guard?" Yeourg asked. Tia smiled, "Chasing a little boy I paid to aggravate him." "You are quite resourceful, you know." "Yes, I know, now can I come in," she purred. Yeourg looked at the ceiling and asked more to himself than then young woman, "Do I have a choice?" CHAPTER 10 Hawk stood, and turning from his master, looked out the cracked window of an old study. The sun had not yet risen and Hawk stared thoughtfully into the darkness. Shaking his head he turned and faced Jeshur Baerd. "I cannot become a Retter. I know the ancient lore. Tradition requires a Retter to be born of a Retter and my father was a farmer, nothing more. That is why I left the Keep." The old, white haired man smiled under a thick beard. He knew well his old apprentice's concerns. His smile turned somber as he replied, "Hawk, you have been wounded both physically and spiritually. Though you have healed your physical ailments, your spirit is still waning. You will not recover fully, without taking upon the mantle of Retter and retrieving your Protectorates." "I am not ill, Jeshur. I defeated the poison the dark warrior's black sword spilt into my soul." Jeshur's voice took on a more serious tone. "That you have overcome its effects, there is no doubt, but its seed still taints you. I can see it, my son. And it will slowly gain power within you growing into a formidable opponent that will challenge your very purpose and resolution." Hawk stared into his master's old, yet wise eyes. He knew that Jeshur Baerd spoke truth, for even now he could feel the struggle within him, demanding that he give up and return to the easy life of a wanderer. He shook his head in silent despair. Rising from a chair older than its occupant, Jeshur placed a soft hand on his nephew's shoulder and invoked a spell of comfort. Softly he said, "I will be with you Kenoren Baerd." It was the only time Hawk would remember his master calling him by his given name. For several long minutes Hawk stood silently fighting the decision he knew he had to make. ********** "Not with the wrist, use your entire arm!" Jeshur yelled from the steps of the Keep. He had spent the better part of the morning bringing Pahl and Derek to a familiarity with the short sword. Hawk had left just after sunrise and the old master felt it best to keep the young men busy. Though not a master of weapons, Jeshur Baerd had a qualified background with almost all modern arms and was easily competent to teach the young apprentices. He had given them wooden swords from the training room and had taken them through a series of thrusts and hacks, the effective attacks for this particular weapon. The swords had been filled with lead to add the weight necessary for realism and had nearly the same feel as a real sword. Derek had proved a capable student, adapting his strong body to the techniques after only a few tries. Pahl, however, had seemed to have trouble with the bulky weapon, flailing it about in a way that would end his life quickly in real combat. "Pahl, watch your brother," Jeshur admonished. "See how the sword appears to be a simple extension of his arm? If you continue to bend your wrist that way, your opponent will break it when your swords collide." "I don't see why..." Pahl began. "There is no why for the beginner, only do or die!" Jeshur said mock seriously. Then, in much lighter tones he added, "Or at least that is what the ancient masters taught. I feel it could be said more appropriately, to question without thought is to question naught." Jeshur Baerd smiled at the two brothers who stared back with bewildered looks. "Enough with rhetoric," he sighed, "let's be practical. Pahl, give Derek your sword and go back through each of the dohkas you have learned from the second mahte'. Derek, come over here and let's see what you have learned." Derek took the sword from Pahl and gave it to Jeshur who left the steps and met him in the yard. The elderly master took a defensive stance and parried Derek's newly learned attacks with relative ease, giving him notes of encouragement and admonishment when needed. Pahl could readily see that his brother would soon become f formidable fighter once he learned more advanced skills. He felt an odd sense of pride in his brother that shrouded any sense of jealousy at his own failure. He pondered on this for a short while then began working on the mahte' he had learned. He found to his surprise he could go through the dohkas almost without concentrating. The movements flowed as naturally as that of walking and Pahl relished in this discovery. As they ate, Jeshur explained the multi-faceted purpose of the Retter and the Keep. How the practice and study of the Light and the Path offered a needed balance in a country and its politics. Why many began to lose faith in the purpose of Retter and why it was important for Hawk and them to remain steadfast against what could and would possibly transpire over the next months. Many of the explanations and clarifications were beyond the young men's ability to comprehend, but they understood easily enough, the magnitude of their own undertaking. "Will we be ready when Hawk returns, Master?" Pahl asked. Both he and Derek had begun using the epithet when their training started that morning. "Probably not," Master Baerd replied matter-of-factly. "But what are we to do? Wait? No, I think not. We shall just make do with what I can teach and you can learn. Hopefully it will be enough. "This afternoon I will continue your training with the short sword, Derek. Pahl, do you think you are ready for the third mahte'?" "I do." "Good, then that will be your lesson for today," said Master Baerd. "After you are through eating I want you both to retire for an hour rest, then meet me in the training yard." That afternoon Derek and Pahl began training with more earnest than before. Somehow they both knew that everything they learned might result in the saving of their own lives at some point in the future. Jeshur Baerd was pleased with their commitment and determination. He helped them stretch their skills and resolution to limits never before known. He continued teaching Derek skills with the short sword, showing him defenses that matched those of the dohka he had previously learned. Pahl required other training and after showing Derek enough techniques to occupy his time for the afternoon Master Baerd led Pahl inside the Keep and into the Grand Library. "Amazing!" Blurted Pahl as they entered a room filled with thousands of ancient writings. "How old are these books?" "Old," said Master Baerd and added, "but not as old as they appear." Pahl gave Master Baerd a sidelong glance, "What do you mean?" Master Baerd smiled coyly and said, "In this room one must look with inner sight to see, listen to inner voice to hear, and think with inner thoughts to learn. I will be here when you are ready to begin." "But Master..." Pahl began and before he could finish the old man had vanished. Pahl looked about and realized that the room no longer had an entrance or exit. The door had been replaced by a wall of books and old scrolls stacked high on a cedar shelf. Pahl sat for a moment in confusion. Then as he always did when presented with a problem, he began talking to himself out loud. "Inner sight to see, inner voice to hear? What's that suppose to mean? And where did the door go?" Pahl stood up and went to the shelf where the exit should have been. He felt the books and shelving only to find their feel and look appeared to be the that of old books and an old shelf. "Inner sight?" Pahl repeated. "Think Pahl, you know what that means. What did Hawk say when I saw the white dragon fly? That I saw it in my mind. That must be what is needed here." Pahl closed his eyes and went through the first mahte' exercises to relax. When he finished, he let his mind go blank and immediately pictured the room in truth. He opened his eyes and saw the door that represented the exit and Master Baerd sitting across from him. "An illusion, Master?" "You are learning, Pahl Kempter," Jeshur replied. "As promised, you are ready to learn and I am here to teach. Let's begin with this..." Jeshur raised his hand slightly and a book disappeared from one of the shelves and reappeared on the table in front of Pahl. Pahl looked at archaic symbols inscribed on the books cover and three images flashed in his mind. "Tell me what the insight the book holds?" Jeshur asked. Pahl hesitated, then answered, "It speaks of the soul, the mind, and the body, I think." "That is correct," said Jeshur. "Trust yourself, Pahl. The Light always reveals truth, there is no need for uncertainty. What is the meaning of these symbols?" "I have not been taught to read, Master." "Inner thoughts to learn. Open the book." Laying his right hand on the cover, Pahl was shocked to find that he could not open it. He used both hands and still found it impossible to open or even move. "Inner thoughts to learn, Pahl. Open the book." Frustrated, Pahl took a deep breath to relax. Rather than opening the book with his hands, he opened it with his mind. Although the book itself never opened, images flooded his mind. They came as vague, ambiguous thoughts at first and as Pahl sharpened his mind the images sharpened as well, forming into complete patterns of thought. After what seemed like several minutes, Pahl closed his thoughts and stared at Jeshur Baerd wide eyed. "The book talks!" Exclaimed Pahl. "Not exactly," said Jeshur. "Nevertheless, what did you learn?" "Well, from what I understood, a Retter's spirit harnesses power, his mind focuses it, and his body acts as a focal point to release the power." Jeshur Baerd smiled at his young apprentice. "That is correct. You see, Pahl, a Retter must learn for himself what it takes to wield the Light and also how it feels. A master can but show the way, the Retter must walk the path alone. Only then can you truly see the light and from it, learn. Do you see how this is accomplished?" "Yes, I am beginning to understand. Has it always been so?" "Since the beginning, when the Holder of the Light called upon honest men and women to guide the affairs of the world." "Who is this Holder of the Light? Is he still alive?" "Yes, the Holder lives," said Jeshur, "but not as we do. You will understand more as you progress and you are ready to receive the Protectorates and become a full Retter, as did Hawk." "I wondered about that," said Pahl thoughtfully. "What are Protectorates and why must Hawk retrieve them?" "Protectorates were created from ancient matter left by a higher power when the world was in the infant stages of its own birth," Jeshur explained. "With them a Retter can extend his power beyond the normal restrictions of mathematics and physical laws on this world." "Master Baerd, you have spoken twice now of our world as if it were but one of many," Pahl said. "Are there others?" "Yes, we are not alone in the universe. But talk of other worlds is a lesson to long for present discussion. You asked about Protectorates and I will explain them. "At the time our world was created, chaotic matter struggled for supremacy. Good and Evil, Light and Darkness, were matched in a battle that would dwarf any from our own imaginations. As Light emerged victorious and the world formed, certain fragments of the battle fell upon this land and burned deep into the soil. The fragments resting in our Western mountains are that of the Light. These fragments are only a minuscule part of that great essence from the chaotic struggle, yet they contain potentially immense power." "But what of the Darkness?" Asked Pahl. "Did any of its matter find itself here?" "Very good, Pahl," Jeshur said. "Even though Light won the initial battle, the conflict remains unresolved. It is for this reason, the Holder of the Light assembled the Retter to follow the Light of the Path. You, Hawk, your brother, and those others on the side of good, are even now engaged in this conflict. You must do what you can to learn to use the power within you to assist in this matter. Soon you will be ready to continue learning the advanced mahte' ." Pahl stared at Master Baerd, accepting as truth what he had previously only imagined. He said, "I will follow your instruction, Master Baerd." "I am glad you are hearing not only my voice, but also my inner voice?" Not fully understanding, Pahl smiled and nodded in agreement anyway. ********** Throughout the next week Pahl and Derek practiced the things Master Baerd taught them. Concentrating fully on every lesson and rehearsing the mahte' every morning and evening. Never in their lives had they work so hard and still they strove to devote more time and energy to their practice. By the fifth day they were only sleeping four hours each night and studying or practicing every minute they could. Even though they slept little, the young men's energy never diminished. Pahl ascribed this to Master Baerd's power and that of the Keep. By the end of the week the young men had developed more than was naturally possible. Pahl could scarcely believe his brother's skill with the short sword as he watched Master Baerd and Derek exchange attacks and blocks. For all appearances his brother looked as though he had grown up with the sword. He hoped that the ability would not diminish when they left, and somewhere inside he knew that it would not. His own skills in the advanced mahte' had also improved dramatically. Master Baerd had taught his brother and him the third and fourth mahte' that included basic attacks called lohka and throws called tohka in the ancient tongue. Pahl also learned ways to discern his inner power and the manufacturing of simple illusions. He learned that illusions required less concentration and power than other forms of magic, making them a better starting point. He was also surprised to learn that every wielder of the power had different talents or skills in focusing and controlling that power. By spending time in the library Pahl learned of Retter who were adept in healing, combat, defense, mind communication, plant manipulation, and many other forms of magic. He wondered what his talent would emerge to be and after asking Master Baerd he found that only through time and after acquiring Protectorates would his full potential be realized. Even though he had succeeded in mastering the skill of reading the ancient books of the library with his mind, Pahl still had trouble with the illusions Master Baerd taught him. Creating simple inanimate objects did not prove difficult, but making those objects appear real to Master Baerd or Derek did. Despite his commitment and effort, the images took on the semblance of a mirage or fleeting shadow without clarity and it took Master Baerd own power to solidify them into recognizable objects. Two days into the second week Pahl began to feel the first pangs of failure creep into his otherwise determined resolve. If he could not master the simpler arts, he thought, how would he become a formidable ally to Hawk? Rather than getting easier, the same spells Pahl tried to weave, became more difficult. This digressed until, by the fourth day, Pahl could not even create the illusory half images he had before. In a fit of frustration after a failed attempt, Pahl declared, "Master, I am a failure!" He threw up his hands and walked toward the door of the Grand Library. Master Baerd stood and with a wave of his staff, erected a minor force barrier between Pahl and the exit. Pahl walked through the barrier without a flinch, the only sign of his passing being a light shearing sound and an insignificant brightening of Pahl's aura. Pahl noticed the sound and turned to Master Baerd. "What was that?" He asked, somewhat disturbed by the smile on his master's face. "You are far from failing, young Kempter," Master Baerd said. He tended to use Pahl's surname, when teaching a particularly important lesson. "But I can't even command a simple illusion," countered Pahl. "Come here, sit," the old teacher directed. Pahl hesitated only slightly and then did as his mentor asked. Master Baerd said, "Perhaps I have been teaching you in the wrong fashion. You have been focusing your energies on the properties of performing the spell rather than on the final product. You are spending too much time concentrating on the particulars that you learn from the archives. "It is important to know the particulars, Pahl, but you must also understand that knowing how to use the power, and wielding the power are two completely different things." Paul looked confused and Master Baerd explained, "Remember when I taught you the art of sword play?" Pahl nodded, how could he forget his failings there. "Use of magic is much the same. You knew the techniques of the sword, but you did not have the talent to be an effective fighter in the short time we have here." "Are you saying that I haven't the talent to practice magic?" Pahl asked concerned. "I am saying the exact opposite," Master Baerd countered. "You must begin exercising your natural ability to call upon the power, rather than trying to develop the spell like you would an equation." The look on Pahl's face resembled that of a frustrated accountant adding impossible numbers. Master Baerd tried a different tactic. "When you tried to leave, I put up an invisible wall that should have blocked your exit. It did not. You walked right through it as if it wasn't there. That sound you heard represented the displacement of my barrier." Master Baerd paused momentarily, then emphasized, "Pahl, you broke my defense barrier without even casting a spell!" "How did I do that?" Pahl asked in disbelief, Master Baerd shook his head, "I am unsure. But I do know that it took tremendous talent and ability on your part to accomplish something of that magnitude without training. We need to work on fine tuning that talent of yours lest you end up causing more havoc inadvertently than you know. "I want you to begin by calling up the illusion of the bowl that you tried earlier. Only this time do not try to build the image in your head and step through the spell directives. Just let your natural instincts guide you through the steps and cast." Pahl tried and nothing happened. He started over and again failed without a hint of the illusion becoming visible. Again he tried and this time sweat began to collect on his forehead, but still he did not succeed. Gently, Master Baerd put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't push it, Pahl, just let it happen. Do not think, just act." Pahl nodded and closed his eyes. Almost instantaneously a bowl, plate, silverware, and a gourmet dinner appeared on the table before them. Pahl opened his eyes and the entire illusion disappeared in a flash of brilliant light. "I did it!" Pahl exclaimed. And then more somberly said, "But it didn't last." "Ah, but it did," said Master Baerd. "When you opened your eyes, your natural reflex caused the flash of light canceling your own spell! A lesson, I have not yet taught you!" Pahl beamed with pride as a worried Derek burst into the room with sword in hand and sweating from his exercises. "Is everything all right?" Pahl said, "We're fine Derek, why?" Derek said, "I thought the library caught fire after I saw that bright light." Understanding mirrored on Pahl's face. "Oh, that light. Yes, that was me. I am beginning to progress," Paul said giving his startled brother a bear hug. Pahl backed away and scrunching his face he said, "You need to bathe, brother. You stink." Master Baerd chuckled while the two brothers from Aubon erupted into uncontrolled laughter. The next day, Pahl and Derek practiced together under the watchful eye and ever correcting hand of Master Baerd. Pahl would create illusions of attacking soldiers, while Derek would combat them. Pahl would make them disappear if Derek hit a vital or crippling point. The images as yet remained inanimate and lacked a solid contact, but Pahl made up for this by placing wooden figures throughout the training field. Master Baerd would periodically stand behind those figures and poke at Derek his staff. The practice sessions where Pahl and Derek worked together became a friendly competition between the two brothers. Pahl, would attempt to trick Derek by placing different sizes and numbers of foes around him. This allowed Master Baerd to catch Derek in the ribs or side with his staff, knocking him to the ground to Pahl's delight. Derek's objective would be to eliminate all of the figures and then tackle his brother disrupting his concentration and removing the illusions. The competition excited the young apprentices and Master Baerd allowed them to compete in the afternoon while constraining them to individual study in the morning. This went on for the next week and Pahl suddenly realized that Hawk had been gone for close to three weeks. This alarmed Pahl, because already snow had fallen in the mountains where Hawk had gone. ********** Hawk sat resting on the edge of a beautifully serene plateau. The countryside from his vantage point was the most awe inspiring he had ever seen. Despite the elevation and surrounding harsh landscape, this hidden glen looked as if perpetual springtime prevailed. Lush, green grass filled the area, surrounded by yellow and blue wild flowers in all stages of growth. Willow trees, not pine common to mountainous regions, grew in an oddly scattered fashion. Experienced in botany, Hawk knew that this entire ecosystem bordered on the impossible. Had he not witnessed it, he would have never believed it could exist. And after seeing it himself, he found it difficult to accept. The location of what Hawk now knew to be the oldest, most undiscovered terrain in Nordenland was settled deep in the mountains West of the Keep. It had taken him almost a week to reach the surrounding edges and only through several hazardous passes, nearly impossible to negotiate. But the call had come, entering deep into his very soul, drawing him to this location like the tug of the ocean's tide. Had it not been so, he doubted his own ability to find such a remote place. Even with the pull of the call, Hawk fought a desperate battle within his own conscience. It was this struggle that kept him on the edge of the plateau, unwilling and unable to enter the resting place of that ancient substance from the chaotic war. Since he had resolved to undertake the journey after his discussion with Jeshur Baerd, he had to recommit himself every step of the way. More than once, he had turned around to give up. Only the belief in his former master and his own unwillingness to fail carried him to this final location. Here is where my life will change, thought Hawk. But do I want it to change? These questions taunted him like a cat and dog fighting in the night. He knew that by entering the cove his decision would be final and his way of living would change dramatically. This knowledge frightened him like nothing else in his entire life. On the edge, Hawk sat. For two days he thought of every conceivable reason to enter and every viable argument to leave. He did not eat or drink. He did not need to. He had entered into a trance-like state that left him somehow outside of the realm of the world. With giddy awareness Hawk realized that he could probably remain this way for months without harm and only with iron will, he broke away from that soothing train of thought. In the end, a simple promise to a family he had barely known made his decision. Breaking the spell of trance, Hawk stood and with firm resolve walked into the grove. Immediately upon entering, Hawk felt the weight of years of guilt disappear and a strong sense of rightness replace the void. Following the inner voice that called to him, he walked for what seemed like hours. He stopped at a section of the plateau that consisted of a substance that looked like nothing as much as white sand. Walking upon the sand like substance, Hawk drew in a deep breath. He could feel tremendous power radiating from beneath his feet and the inner voice became a chorus of musical reverberations singing triumphant victory mingled with saddened loss. A wash of emotions and power burned into Hawk, causing him fall onto his back in stunned ecstasy. He lay prone in the sand listening to a concert of epic proportions. As the sound intensified, images flashed into Hawk's mind of the struggle that had taken place several millennia ago. Light and Darkness, releasing power and majesty beyond comprehension battled in the heavens sending bolts of brilliant light through the stars. Streaks of color so dazzling they brought tears to Hawk's eyes careened through the stars while shearing globes of utter darkness ripped at the very threads of the universe. Astonishing beyond belief, the battle raged and within it substance of both good and evil collided into the planet where Hawk lay. The images shifted to thousands of years after the struggle had finally ended and the forces of Light prevailed. In the location where Hawk lay prone, a being of intense power and knowledge rose from the sand. All around him tiny fragments from the previous battle collected until they formed into two intensely white cylinders of perfect design. The being lifted the first Protectorates and held them high above his head. Blinding, white light shot forth brightening the entire countryside and then subsided. Hawk realized that the being that stood where he lay was the Holder of the Light, caller of the Retter. Time passed. The images shifted and the Holder of the Light remained in the center of the plateau, a beacon of power. Men and women from generations long sense forgotten found the plateau and the Holder of the Light handed Protectorates to those worthy of their receipt. Time passed again. The images faded, replaced by those of darkness and evil power. The respite from the chaos war was over and out of the south an enemy emerged. One of extreme power who converted some of those Retter and destroyed those who challenged. Terror reigned for a brief time, before the enemy was crushed. Time passed once more. Hawk saw his own image approach the Holder of the Light. The Holder stretched forth his hands, burying them into the white sand and returning with two cylinders that glowed with life and appeared to Hawk like ivory rods. Turning toward Hawk, the Holder of the Light handed the cylinders to him. The images faded and Hawk awoke. He found himself under a willow tree on the grass. He couldn't remember walking there and stood up to get his bearings when something caught his eye. On the ground, not three feet away, lay the two feet long, white Protectorates Hawk had scene in his vision. Hawk also noticed that his entire outfit, including his boots, radiated in whiteness. Hawk picked up the Protectorates, and finding them warm to the touch he placed them in a carrying case Jeshur had provided him before he left. He did not know how long he had been on the plateau, but he was famished and quickly recovered his backpack, he had hidden next to the grove. Smiling with a sense of rejuvenation and new beginnings Hawk ate an appetizing meal and started his trek out of the hidden pass. Snow fell, but Hawk could tell it was midmorning and he would try to reach the outer pass by nightfall. He did not fear the return trip, knowing that his own powers now dwarfed those he had previously possessed and any dangers he might encounter in the mountain would prove uneventful. The Protectorates provided warmth and reassurance that all would go well. ********** "Hawk's returned!" Shouted Derek, from the training field. Master Baerd and Pahl arose from their chairs in the library and left several scrolls on the table. Pahl came out of the main chamber of the Keep at a run. This day marked the second day after the third week since Hawk had left and Pahl felt elated that Hawk had finally returned. "Where?" Asked Pahl, coming to a stop at Derek's side. "Just North of those trees," said Derek pointing in the indicated direction. "He's dressed in white," Pahl observed absently. Master Baerd arrived to hear Pahl's comment. "Then he has succeeded in his quest," he said, almost to himself. The two brothers looked at their master briefly, then back to where their friend approached. Pahl smiled from ear to ear. He couldn't help feeling that events would now begin to take on a structured shape and that he would play a role in the shaping. Hawk greeted his old friend with an uncharacteristic hug. The two talked and laughed into the afternoon about old times, while Pahl and Derek listened in satisfied silence. As afternoon turned to evening Master Baerd bade the two young men demonstrate some of the skills they had learned. The brothers complied and found Hawk astonished by their accomplishments. Shortly thereafter, they ate dinner and the discussions turned toward serious matters. "We must leave at first light," said Hawk with a hint of sadness in his voice. "That would be appropriate," agreed Jeshur. "We were expected in Surik a week ago," continued Hawk, "And I feel that any further delay may have consequences." "This is true," Jeshur said. "Timing may become critical shortly." Hawk looked down at his currently white clothing. Then gave Jeshur a knowing look. "Despite traditions of the past, you know I cannot remain in these clothes." Jeshur almost laughed, "Not if you want to stay alive." He stood and instructed Hawk to stand as well. Raising his staff he made a motion in the air. The staff turned bright white and Jeshur pointed the end at Hawk's chest. Using a back and forth motion, Jeshur moved the staff across Hawk's clothing. After several passes the white coloration began to glow and then fade to a crude black. The four men spent the rest of the evening preparing for their journey to Surik and possible return to Aubon. Even though Pahl and Derek were clearly involved in whatever might transpire, they both accepted that visiting their home and their family superseded any further adventure. Jeshur Baerd again emphasized the need for caution and not to trust anyone. Pahl thought the admonition academic since he planned on trusting no one and playing caution to the hilt. And even though he had learned much from this old man he felt insecure in leaving him--Jeshur had reminded his companions that he would remain at the Keep awaiting their return. That night Pahl slept restlessly. He could not shake the feeling that he would prove inadequate when a real confrontation came. And come it would. He was certain of it, more certain than his feelings for Ti Anniomi. Funny that he should remember her full name, since he had always called her Tia. He found some comfort in the memory of the Sojourn thief who had rescued him from captivity. He vowed that he would be the one doing the saving the next time they met. Paul shuffled, curling his legs to get more comfortable. He knew that midnight had already passed and he still had not gotten more than a few minutes sleep. He glanced sidelong at Derek listening in envy to his slow, steady breathing that indicated somber rest. In exasperation he sat up sharply dislodging the wool blanket over his legs. Crossing his ankles he motioned through a short version of the first mahte' and closing his eyes cast a spell learned from a medicine book in the archives. The content of the spell purportedly caused sleep in preparation for an operation. A Retter would normally cast it upon a wounded person, but Pahl thought he could change the directives and it might work on himself. His last thoughts were those of a dark skinned girl with flowing black hair then he drifted into unconsciousness. The next morning Pahl rose early. Though he had only slept for a few hours he felt invigorated. He resolved to commit the previous night's spell to memory for further use when necessary. Pahl heard the faint sounds of horses in the courtyard and knew that Hawk and Master Baerd had risen earlier to prepare for their departure. He dressed quickly and woke Derek. The brothers ate a quick breakfast and met the others in the courtyard. Pahl and Derek helped Hawk finish tying down provisions on their horses while Jeshur Baerd went in and out of the Keep retrieving bundles for the journey. When they were finished the four stood staring at one another, no one wishing to speak and say the required good bye. Finally, Hawk broke the silence and turning to Jeshur he said, "Uncle, thank you. Thank you for believing in me." His voice was filled with emotion and Jeshur wept openly as the two embraced. "Just make sure you believe in yourself now," the old master said in a halting voice. "I will," Hawk said, breaking away and wiping his own eyes. "I have seen the vision and accepted my destiny." Jeshur smiled broadly and turned to his young apprentices. "Young Kempters, I have already given both of you the best gifts I could during your training. It will be Hawk's duty to continue that. Still, a final word of caution: rely on each other, alone you will fail, but together prevail." Pahl expected a different warning, but nodded nonetheless. After a pause, Jeshur hefted an object wrapped in oiled leather and handed it to Derek. "This sword is old but forged from a metal belonging to an ancient era," Jeshur said. "It will not break and contains some magical properties as well. Care for it as you would a babe and it will care for you." Derek removed the leather covering and inspected the sheath. It was ordinary and practical, and the protruding handle of the sword looked old and worn, but effective. When he pulled the sword from the sheath his breath caught in his throat. The blade gleamed like it had just been forged and polished and when he held it he could barely tell that it had any weight. He quickly returned it to its sheath and wrapped the water resistant leather over it. "Thank you, Master," Derek almost whispered. Jeshur Baerd nodded and then picked up another smaller object also protected by soft leather. He handed this one to Pahl. "Do not remove the covering now," Jeshur admonished as Pahl had begun unwrapping his gift. "Inside is a special book from the archives. It is a catalyst to the other books in the old library and from it you can read any writings in the library no matter how far away you are. "Be especially selective when using it, because it only has limited contact ability and you must wait between readings. Also, it takes great concentration to use and can be detected by scrying magic from your enemies. "One more thing. You must destroy the book rather than let dark powers possess it." Pahl nodded and put the wrapped book into a pack on his horse while Derek strapped the covered sword to the back of his saddle. With a final farewell and shaking of hands, Hawk, Derek, and Pahl mounted their horses and began an early morning trek on Old Keep Trail. The first snow had fallen the previous night and continued lightly making the trail appear serene in the whiteness, despite the lack of sunlight. As they passed the tree entwined archway that marked the entrance to the Keep, a feeling of remorse and dread washed over Pahl and Derek. They both looked at each other in surprise and halted. "Relax," said Hawk turning toward them. We have passed the parameter where the original spell lay over us. You have grown accustomed to its effects and are only feeling its release." "Warn me next time," Pahl said still shaking. Hawk smiled, "I will." The brothers pulled their cloaks tighter about them and rode on, accepting the fact that comfort would not be a commodity they would soon enjoy. Like their ride in, the three had an uneventful trip on the trail, down the highway and into the river town. When they arrived in the prosperous logging town, the snow had stopped and evening approached. Hawk had decided to take the return journey slower to ensure safety and nearly doubled the time it had taken them to originally travel the same route. The river town bustled with activity that alarmed the three travelers. The Inn was full and the tavern boasted more than three times the patrons as their last visit. An unusually large number of soldiers sat around the hearth talking loudly and drunk with ale. This concerned Hawk as he and the Kempters ate a modest supper. The soldiers numbered twice the size of a large patrol in Surik. The bar tender seemed unconcerned and happily filled their mugs while he filled his coffer. By listening to the boisterous conversations throughout the room, Hawk gleaned that the king once again sat on the thrown and the confusion that previously reigned in the Magistrate had dissolved. This led to a rise in spending and lowering of tariffs that all enjoyed. He also learned that the number of soldiers represented an increase in the size of the Royal Army and patrols this size roamed the highways regularly. Watching the men that made up this patrol, Hawk deduced that the increased size in the army primarily consisted of freelancers, hired swords, and inept draftees. He hoped fervently that the bulk of the army did not match this lack of quality. With the inns full, several caravans and travelers camped just outside the town. Hawk decided to join the campsite and offered the lead teamster watch duty in exchange of sharing their fire. The teamster almost declined, but the sword strapped to Derek's horse and the two daggers hung visibly at his sides convinced him that Hawk's group could hold their own. Pahl smiled inwardly at his brothers new demeanor--he did look like a young mercenary. Light banter filled the air as the men and women around the campfire talked loosely. Hawk need not have warned his companions to remain vigilant and distant in their conversations. The young men already respected the gravity of their mission and kept silent for most of the evening, only interjecting an occasional agreement or laughing in concert with others. As the evening became late most of the travelers prepared their beds. Pahl drew first watch with four other men and donned an extra heavy, wool inlaid coat. The other men wore an assortment of cheap weapons and one held a short bow. Pahl's lack of a weapon except for his short dagger did not seem to bother the others. Everyone knew their main duty involved rousing the camp if bandits attacked and not to engage in a fight. Not uncommon for a watch so close to a town, the five men ended up around the fire an hour after the camp slept. Their assigned stations lay around the fringes of the camp, but with the chance of a raid so slim the fire called to them like a magnet to metal. Pahl took his place around the fire, knowing that he should keep watch, but unwilling to defy the other guards. "Where you from, boy?" Asked a bearded man holding a cup of steaming coffee. The gruff man's use of the term `boy' did not bother Pahl. Most of these men were twice his age and Pahl's eighteen years were far from what experienced teamsters would consider a man. "Aubon," Pahl said, not wishing to lie. "Aubon?" Asked the man raising an eyebrow. "Pretty far for the three of you." "Yes," Pahl said, concerned about the direction of the conversation. "Where are you headed?" He asked a little to casually for Pahl's liking. Pahl took a short breath and before answering cast an illusion of movement in the nearby trees, making sure that more than one of the men noticed it. He stood up and pointed. "I think I saw something." Pahl said adding some alarm to his voice. "Probably just a `coon," the gruff man said. "No, I saw it too," another man affirmed. "We better take our posts." He stood and picked up the short bow. The other men rose and went back to their assigned stations, while the man who first talked to Pahl looked at him suspiciously. Pahl shrugged and returned to his position. At midnight, the watch changed and Pahl fell asleep forgetting about the man who questioned him. In the morning, the camp disbanded and each went his way. Several groups headed for Surik, and Hawk's group left early to get ahead of them. By noon they had reached the Northern toll gate that led to Surik. Hawk paid the toll guard one copper and he and his companions passed. In two hours they had ridden to the outskirts of Surik where nearly a month previously they had left Tia and Lorina. Despite the previous day's snowfall and the cold weather, the roads seemed overly active with caravans and lone riders moving in both directions. The attitude of strangers seemed cheerful near the capitol, a mirror image of that in the river town. Hawk did not share the optimism. After lunch he instructed Pahl and Derek to rehearse the four mahte' they had learned, while he meditated. When finished, they found Hawk sitting cross legged holding the two strange Protectorates in both hands. The white cylinders glowed brightly and then faded as Hawk looked up. "Sit," Hawk instructed. Both Derek and Pahl sat on the cold ground.. "Lorina is not at the capitol," Hawk began. The brothers exchanged looks but remained silent. "If she has left the capitol it can only be for something of importance. We must find out what that is." "Is she in danger?" Derek asked, not questioning how Hawk knew of her location. "Not yet, but that may change," Hawk answered. I assume that Tia is with her and possibly others. I have been tracking her since we left the Keep. She heads east, possibly to Elvendan or a northeastern kingdom city." The young men looked at their companion in wonder. "She wears a special token that has magical properties," Hawk explained to their unvoiced question. "I can locate her, much like a ship's captain follows a lighthouse in the fog." "She is a special person," Hawk continued. "A princess of the crown." He paused as the young men absorbed the significance of that statement. "If she is on a mission, it will be one of utmost consequence. "We will skirt Surik and attempt to catch up to her party near Baiern. We'll have to get provisions in a smaller town along the way." The last was said more to himself as Derek and Pahl stared at the unbelief reflected in each other's eyes. Derek's only comment was, "a princess!" CHAPTER 11 "I think I'm getting sick." The swaying of the kingdom ship caused Tia to grip the rail tightly, and strive desperately to hold down her breakfast. "Again?" Yeourg asked from the quarter deck. Tia shook her head affirmatively and dug her fingers into the wood railing until her knuckles turned white. Despite her brave demeanor on shore, the last two days she had fallen apart. Her tough Sojourn attitude had shattered like glass thrown on a marble floor. She had never stepped foot on a boat before and the sensations that came with sailing sent her equilibrium overboard. Yeourg had decided the envoy would go by ship on the Surik Sea as far east as possible and obtain horses in the eastern city of Baiern. They had left three days prior and stopped once, overnight, in a port just east of Surik on the first day. Tia turned her face toward the wind in an effort to suck in fresh air as Yeourg had instructed. Yeourg, the young prince whom Tia admired stood conversing with the captain at the helm. She thought of him looking at her now and almost retched. He had been polite enough the night before their departure, but had resisted her advances after they had finished the tea in his room. Finally, in a pseudo embarrassing moment he had ordered her out of his room. She did not speak to him for the next day, even after he gave her advice when she first became sea sick shortly after leaving Surik. She was unaccustomed to rejection when it came to seduction and now she felt humiliated and vulnerable. She decided she would not give him the pleasure of seeing her lose control again. After all, if she wanted a kingdom man, there was always the sweet young man from Aubon. Of course, he was not a prince, but the thought of Pahl Kempter did make her smile and almost feel better. ********** "Land ho!" Shouted the crow man. "Where away?" Yelled the captain. "East by Southeast!" The crow man pointed. "Three degrees port," said the captain to the helmsman. He then turned to Yeourg and said, "We approach New Swanston, your Highness. If the wind stays we will meet harbor up by sundown." "Inform my men, captain, and don't raise the royal banner." "Yes, M'lord. We sail under a merchant's flag as planned." Yeourg nodded and went below deck to the captain's quarters where Lorina and Tia stayed. He knocked twice and then entered. Lorina sat in front of a vanity adjusting her pony tailed hair and Tia lay on the bed still trying to recover from nausea. She looked pale and drawn despite her naturally tan skin. "We will be in New Swanston by sun down and the dangerous part of our mission will begin." Yeourg looked at each of the girls meaningfully. "The two kingdom warships that paced us are even now turning back to Surik to detract undue attention. Once we disembark our small envoy will be alone and vulnerable. I want both of you to stay near me or Jahradan. "I am going to speak to Jahradan and my men now. You are welcome to come and listen if you are feeling up to it." He turned and left. Tia held herself up with her elbows and said, "You brother thinks of us as children." Lorina smiled, "He's just protective." "I can look out for myself," Tia remarked defensively. "And that is why he invited you along," Lorina said. "Now quit acting so sensitive." "I am not sensitive." "Well, are you feeling like going to the meeting?" Tia took a deep breath and sat all the way up. "Yes, we'll be off this ship soon enough anyway." "Good," Lorina said and stood up. "How do I look?" She wore a white wool cap, sailor's breeches, and a blue high necked shirt. Tia smirked, "If you hid your hair you might pass for a cabin boy." Both girls laughed and Tia stood up to get ready. "...of greatest importance that our identities remain ambiguous." Yeourg was speaking to the assembled soldiers handpicked for this mission, when Lorina and Tia entered the main hold. The ship they sailed in had been built for merchant hauls and easily accommodated the twenty men and supplies on board." "If any of you have relatives or friends in New Swanston do not contact them." Yeourg stood in the middle of the men and held everyone's attention. "All of you know the importance of our envoy and each of you has vowed his life to ensure the mission's success." He paused. "That may be required in the future. If any of you has reservations you may voice them now." Yeourg looked around him and when no one spoke he continued. "Everyone knows the plan of leaving the ship. We will carry our hidden weapons and armor to the specified warehouse, two at a time. The sailors aboard ship will accompany us two at a time and return to the ship. After you have entered the warehouse, change into your traveling clothes and leave out the back. We will all meet at the Key Hole Tavern one hour before midnight. You will not see Jahradan or me again until then." The men stood and several raised one arm and shouted, "To success!" Then Yeourg and the entire team joined in and echoed, "To success!" ********** Yeourg entered the Key Hole Tavern just after the tenth hour. Lorina and Dellen accompanied him and the three traversed the smoke filled room to sit next to Jahradan and Tia. Tia unashamedly gorged herself on a plate of roast ham and vegetables. Yeourg took no notice, knowing that the Sojourn had not eaten well in three days. He leaned forward to Dellen and whispered, "How many?" "All but four, Captain." Dellen replied dutifully. As instructed, he refrained from using the royal title. From this point forward the Prince of Nordenland would be known only as Captain. "And the inn?" "Secured. The inkeep knows nothing more than the idea that we are rough cut mercenaries and do not take nicely to gossip." A short smile creased Dellen's face. "He may be suspicious, but will fear telling anyone about it." "Very well," Yeourg said. "When the last four arrive have everyone bunk down for the night. We leave an hour before first light." Dellen nodded and made his way around the smoky room. He informed the men assembled of the Prince's orders and then took a seat near the hearth within direct view of the entrance doors. Unlike many in the company, Dellen knew the danger and difficulty of this mission. He was an expert in his field. A trained body guard and strategist in the king's army. He had direct connections with and was responsible for many operations within the inner circle of the Magistrate. As such, he became privy to information sometimes never known by the general public. At times he wished his lot was different. This was not one of those times. Dellen believed, without arrogance, that his experience and knowledge might decide the fate of his lord and his country. He committed himself long ago to forfeit his own comfort and even his life if called upon. He knew, that time had come and he accepted it. During the next hour the final four members of the group arrived. Half of the company had already left to the inn and Dellen instructed the late arrivers of their room assignments. Over the next two hours the remaining soldiers would go to their respective lodgings. When everyone had left, Dellen paid the barman and slipped out the entrance into the cool night. He would not go directly to the inn. Instead, he would accomplish a small mission only he and Prince Yeourg had discussed. It would be dangerous, but necessary if their company wanted to make it to Bairen without delay. Mist and fog wove through the streets like slow moving rivers as Dellen shuffled along a side road quietly. He welcomed the fog because it masked his movements from any city watch that might want to enforce curfew. The only drawback was that although he had been in the city before, New Swanston was unfamiliar and the dismal light made navigating the winding roads that much worse. It would not due to become lost before he made his necessary connections. Every town had its criminal element, and while midnight was the best time to contact someone of that nature, it was also the most dangerous. Dellen stopped at a corner and leaned against the moist stone brick of a fishery. He waited patiently, knowing that he would be contacted in due course. Several minutes past and a street urchin who appeared seemingly out of thin air emerged like a wraith out of the fog. He had straggly hair and smelled of fish, but his eyes were sharp and shifted right and left in an effort to see all places at once. "Watcha lookin' for mista'?" The boy said just above a whisper. "Information," Dellen replied. He wanted to ensure the young man that he was not here as a victim, but wanted something only the night merchants could provide. And more importantly, something he was willing to pay for. Otherwise, he understood, this boy was just a first contact to measure the difficulty of a possible target. "Can be costly," said the boy. "I have the funds," Dellen said carefully, "but I also expect a service." He pulled back his overcoat revealing an assortment of weapons. The boys eyes bulged and he shook his head quickly. "Right y'are, sir, follow me." The boy led Dellen down several alleys and twisting turns. Dellen could only presume that the boy wanted to confuse him so he remained sharp. When they entered a dirty alley that had virtually no light, the boy darted quickly to his right. Dellen had anticipated the move, however, and hooked the boys ankle with his foot causing the youth to stumble. "Going somewhere?" Dellen asked as he pulled the boy roughly to his feet and drew a dagger in the same motion. "Put away your weapon," a voice demanded in the darkness. "Reveal yourselves and I might be inclined," Dellen said as he held the boy in front of him like a raggedy shield. ******* "You would be wise to throw all of your weapons to the ground and dismount." Three men armed and on horseback road out of the forest onto the trail in front of Hawk, Derek, and Pahl. Two of the men held crossbows, cocked and trained on them while the third spoke. Hawk looked behind him just as several more riders appeared from their concealment blocking any escape. Hawk and his companions had been riding and camping along the road for several days. They were only two hours west of New Swanston when the ambush occurred. Hawk thought the nearness of the town must have caused them to become more careless and therefore not notice their aggressors. The leader noticed Hawk's indecision and said, "I won't repeat myself. Throw your weapons down and dismount unless you like iron bolts for dinner." His compatriots emphasized the last by motioning with their crossbows. Hawk stared at the speaker as if to measure his intent. He then turned to Derek and nodded while speaking to the leader, "My companion is the only one with weapons. He will leave them on the horse and we will dismount." Derek removed his dagger belt and placed it on the saddle of his horse. Not knowing what Hawk intended, he and Pahl climbed down and stepped away from their mounts, following Hawk's lead. Noticing some familiarity, Pahl watched the man who appeared to be the leader. A shiver ran down his back as he realized with a cold certainty that this was the same gruff teamster who had questioned him outside of the river town. In a flash of hindsight he scorned himself for not alerting the others earlier. Now he stood with his hands at his side in frustration. Two men in back rode forward, took the reins of the loose horses and led them past the front crossbowmen. The leader rode forward and pointed at Hawk. "You are the man called Hawk, I would expect." Without surprise Hawk answered, "I am." "And the boys are Derek and Pahl?" "Who are you?" Derek asked stepping forward. The older man chuckled without humor. "You will learn soon enough. For now, it is I who will ask the questions." Hawk motioned with his left hand and said, "we are no threat to you." The leader raised his brow and replied, "On the contrary, I am a threat to you." As the leader finished his sentence a man dressed in traveling clothes with a sword at his hip stepped from behind a tree. "Enough!" He said as he walked forward. The man had long, dark blond hair and a moustache. His eyes were deep brown and at this moment rich with hostility. As he moved onto the trail and into the fading light recognition registered in Derek and Pahl's eyes. "Bojax!" Pahl shouted. "Bojax Freed." Both Pahl and Derek ran forward without regard of the crossbowmen to hug their father's best friend. "Are you all right?" Bojax Freed asked, knowing the answer before the question escaped his lips. "We're fine, Bojax," Pahl said, "How is mother?" "Worried," Bojax Freed said. "But we will talk later, first I must deal with your traveling companion." The last was said with barely contained malice. Bojax Freed pushed past Pahl and Derek and stood face to face with Hawk. "Who do you think you are leading these young men around the kingdom like a vagabond?" Pahl had never seen Bojax Freed so angry in his life. He thought he would attempt to kill Hawk on the spot. "You must understand the circumstances..." Hawk tried. "You must understand the consequences!" Bojax Freed nearly shouted. When Hawk said nothing Bojax Freed continued, "I will have you thrown into shackles in Gahlen when we return." Hawk gestured to the young men and said, "they cannot return immediately." "They will return! Even if you dead body must testify it!" Bojax was livid with anger. His hand fastened tightly to the hilt of the sword that hung from his waist. "Bojax!" Both Derek and Pahl exclaimed in unison. He turned toward the two young men he had known since they were boys. The look on Pahl's face struck him most forcefully. It was older, wiser, and more understanding than he had remembered. In a strange, almost neurotic way, he thought the boy could read his mind. Pahl stepped forward and with a slight gesture of his hand, motioned toward Hawk. "This man is as close a friend, teacher, and protector of us as you have been, Bojax. Please, listen to him. The danger he must speak of is real, and Derek and my part in it are just as real." There was something in Pahl, that Bojax Freed would never again be able to describe. He would only remember that during a brief instant he felt like the student and his friend's son the master. In subtler tones he answered, "I will listen, but I still intend on taking you back to Aubon with me." With that, the other men lowered their weapons, but remained on guard. Hawk moved forward and taking Bojax Freed by the arm, led him a distance from the group. Out of earshot he related the events that brought them here, leaving out the more personal portions of the journey and emphasizing those of their nation's security. Bojax Freed listened calmly and once again felt the similarities between himself and this wanderer like he had in Aubon. Bojax had grown up in a harsh land without parents and understood the dangers that existed in the south. He did not doubt the words of Hawk, but only doubted his own ability to protect the sons of his best friend. For during the telling of the story, he had decided his course, and sought the other’s request for his help. He would not ask, but he also would not let the young men fulfill this mission without him. Hawk noticed the change in his listener as he related the story. The magic swelled in him like a spring river during the telling and images of Bojax Freed's past settled through him without request. It was strange to see another's past without seeking it, and before he had finished he stopped mid sentence and placed a hand on the other’s shoulder. "You must come with us," Hawk said sending some of the magic into his listener. Bojax Freed barely paused and answered, "I must." The two men returned to the others. Bojax Freed addressed the gruff teamster and said, "Mietel, you will send two men to Aubon. They will seek out the Kempter's and tell them this, `I have found the boys and we must continue a mission of great importance. They will be safe. I promise.'" "What trickery is this?" Mietel asked frowning. "No trickery, my friend," Bojax Freed replied. "Any who wish to accompany us can. If you still respect my leadership, you will. But I will not ask you to remain." "We're with you, Sergeant!" Some of the men shouted and then the rest repeated their commitment. Derek and Pahl turned questioning looks at Bojax Freed upon hearing the appellation, but he ignored them. "Very well," Bojax Freed said and facing Hawk he asked, "what course?" Mounting his horse Hawk replied, "New Swanston." **********