NexLord: Dark Prophecies
Author: Philip Blood
Date: 2010-04-12 04:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Fantasy
Description: This is the second edition of NexLord: Dark Prophecies, with many small corrections, but no changes to the story. It also includes a new cover of the book. Librarian Note: This is an alternate cover edition, the original ISBN number is: 9781452359540
Publisher: Smashwords

Nexlord:

Dark Prophecies

Book One
by

Philip F. Blood

SMASHWORDS EDITION

Version 3.0

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PUBLISHED BY:

Philip Blood on Smashwords

Nexlord: Dark Prophecies

Copyright © 2010 by Philip Blood

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

Smashwords Edition License Notes

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

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Friends I’d like to thank.

This novel is about the bonds between friends, and I have many to thank for their support. Thanks, Ron DeRuyter for all the editing and suggestions, you’re always there when I need you. Thank you, Rhonda St. Laurent, my sister and English teacher for your skills and understanding. I’d also like to thank Phil R. Blood for encouraging me to write. Sadly, my father did not live to see my books published, but he did get the chance to read early versions of this novel series.

And last, but by no means least, thank you, Marianne Wilhelm, for living with me and my main characters: Aerin, Gandarel, Dono, Lor, Katek and Mara, and putting up with them as if they were family members. We all appreciate and love you.

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Nexlord: Dark Prophecies

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Chapter One

“…and in this vision, I saw the return of evil twice banished.  It was a strange vision where two go as one to become the opposite faces of darkness and light.  But the future blurred; for I saw a meeting in a far place where the bleakness of hate met the fullness of friendship, and the future was left in the Dreadmaster’s hands.  Yet it was the NexLord who saved us all.”

-  From the Prophecies of Gold

Fear only strengthens the enemy.

Aerin’s father had told him this many times, but right now the young boy was terrified.  He clutched at the insides of the swaying canvas covered wagon as it hurtled down the bumpy dirt road with reckless speed.  From the front of the rumbling wagon, his father’s voice rang out urging the two horse team to even greater efforts.

Their pursuers were gaining.

The boy's mother guided her twelve-year-old son down onto the floor, wedging him in between the side of a large clothing trunk and the corner of the wagon.  She pushed his head down until it was below the top of the rough wooden sideboards.

The dull staccato of hurtling hoofs pounded angrily against the hard packed dirt as a horrid guttural voice barked out a war cry. That deep voice could not have issued from a human throat, it seemed to vibrate the very air inside the wagon.

Aerin tried to contain his terror, but it seeped from his mind like sweat from the pores of his skin.  With wide eyes, the frightened boy watched his mother scramble over fallen boxes and clothes until she reached the back of the lurching wagon.  Her slim hand grasped the edge of the canvas and pulled it slightly open so that a thin blade of sunlight cut into the shadowed interior of the wagon.   She peered out and a gasp of dismay escaped before her hand came up to swiftly stifled the involuntary sound of horror. She knew she must be strong for the benefit of her son.

The sound of the pounding hoofs drew closer.

Sariah released the canvas and turned to lock desperate eyes on her young son as if her gaze alone could protect him.  As their eyes met a ray of light pierced the dim interior through a new hole in the canvas and his mother lurched forward.  A red circle of blood appeared on the left shoulder of her cream colored dress.  Her hand lifted toward her son, but then she fell forward revealing an ugly black barbed shaft projecting from her upper back.

Aerin cried out and started to get up from behind the crate, but Sariah gasped through her pain, "No, Aerin, stay down!” She crawled her way toward her son, determined as only a mother can be when protecting that which is most precious, her child.

The hoofs grew louder and the boy could hear them on either side of the hurtling wagon. An arrow struck the wood near Aerin's head as three more of the ugly shafts penetrated the canvas. Beams of sunlight stabbed the darkness emerging through the new holes and crisscrossing the shadows like some crazy nightmare.

The wagon swayed wildly and the cutlery drawer fell out crashing loudly to the floor near the boy's hand. The noise, violence, and disorder were akin to what was now happening to Aerin’s once peaceful life. He reached out and picked up one of the small sharp knives.

The deep guttural voices barked from all around them in a strange harsh language.  There was a horrible wet thud from the front of the wagon, and the wagon began to slow.

From the covering that hid the driver’s bench at the front of the wagon, a hand fell in under the edge of the canvas with a single trail of red blood winding down the wrist and across the palm.  Aerin reached out tentatively for his father's limp hand, fearing the truth it screamed.

But before his small shaking hand could finish the journey the wagon slowed.  Sariah struggled to her feet and took her son's reaching hand.  She used it to pull Aerin out from the corner and led him to the back of the wagon.  Quickly she pulled the stopper from their flask of lantern oil and shook it out over the canvas wagon covering, splashing the liquid around liberally.  Next, she opened the metal pot where she kept the hot embers for a fire.   She gasped with pain as her movement caused the embedded shaft in her shoulder to scrape along the bone.  Working through her pain Sariah dropped a light cloth across the coals.  She fanned the hot coals with her good hand and the cloth burst into flame.  She grabbed the edge and tossed the burning cloth across the oil-soaked canvas.  The liquid caught fire and the dry canvas started burning within seconds.

Low barks of surprise came from outside as the flames were seen.

Sariah parted the canvas a crack at the back of the wagon for a furtive glance at their enemy's positions.   As the wagon rolled to a complete stop she whispered to her son in a quiet voice of iron control, "Run for the trees, and don't look back... ready?"

He nodded and she flung the canvas aside.  As they jumped down to the hard road Sariah stumbled from the pain but recovered quickly.   They started running across a small meadow toward the nearest portion of the thickly treed forest. Aerin clutched his mother's hand as they ran.  Behind them, a curt bark sounded in the strange language.  It heralded a horrid wet, "thunk" of an arrow striking flesh.  Sariah stumbled again and released Aerin's hand as she fell skidding across the grass.

"Mother!"  Aerin cried out and stopped, dropping to his knees by her fallen form.

A second black shaft now projected from the small of her back.  Though weak she called softly to her son, "Run... Aerin."

The scream started deep in Aerin's small frame and grew as it found a voice, "Noooooo!” the young boy's grip on the small cooking knife tightened as he stood and turned back toward the burning wagon.  For the first time since the terror began, Aerin saw the creatures that had murdered his parents.  They were horrible to behold, but the small boy stood his ground over his mother’s body and prepared to defend her to the death.

Gandarel Trelic, the twelve-year-old heir to the Seat of Stone and future Warlord of the Borderlands, hated his dress coat collar.  For the twentieth time this day he hooked his fingers into the offending material and pulled, hoping to gain some slack.

When Niler Corbin, First Seat of the council, aimed his overly bushy eyebrows at him with a stern look Gandarel desisted his tugging.

Gedin strike me down, I'm bored!  Gandarel thought to himself and was pleased; he loved getting away with a curse in the presence of Niler, even if it had only been in thought.

Mercifully the tithing report was finally concluded and Gandarel was hustled off to his next appointment, requiring yet another change of clothing.  As he pulled on the stiff leather fencing armor Gandarel frowned as he gazed out the nearby window.  The scene extended beyond the far wall of the castle to where the towering buildings of Strakhelm beckoned.  He longed to be out exploring the great city instead of being 'safely' locked up in the musty old castle.

One of Councilman Corbin's underlings escorted the twelve-year-old heir down to the arms courtyard where the new battle master, Herus, waited by the sword rack.  Gandarel missed his father's battle master, but he had been 'retired', as Councilman Enolive had explained.   Herus beckoned him over, thick meaty hand waving and false smile showing feigned encouragement.

In his gravelly voice, Herus barked, "Good, you look fit today, young man.  We will begin with hacking practice.  Here is your broadsword," the ox-like man proclaimed, leaning the heavy sword hilt toward the boy.

Gandarel scowled and took the grip with both hands, then dragged the massive sword across the ground, letting the tip dig a deep furrow from the forty pound weight.  He eyed his destination with hatred, a large wooden hacking post sunk upright in the ground.  Countless sword hacks had worn it to roughly circular proportions around the middle.  Arriving at the post, with sweat already beading on his young brow, the boy used all his strength to lift the heavy broadsword and clumsily swung it at the wood.

"Again," Herus growled, "and put your back into it, you'll never crush an enemy with a blow like that!"

Gandarel muttered under his breath, "I can barely lift it, let alone crush anyone with it, Fool."  But he knew better than to argue, or he would be swinging the heavy blade until his arms fell off.

His thoughts went to his father, dead now six months.  Father would never have allowed them to do this to me, he thought and his anger and hatred seethed beneath his skin. He managed a slightly better cut at the wood as he pictured Herus' leg as the wooden beam.  He would have wished this hard work over and done, but he knew what fate had in store for him: Courtesy and Protocol class.

Glumly he wondered what other children his age were doing at this moment; having fun he had no doubt.

Standing over his fallen mother Aerin faced the creatures that had struck down his parents.  The young boy had never seen a Togroth before, but the six snout-faced brutes that approached him, with slavering razor-toothed maws, were more horrible than he had ever imagined.  Muscles bunched on their shoulders, making their heads seem almost embedded without a neck.  Dull and rusted pieces of mismatched armor attempted to cover their thick hides unsuccessfully as coarse bristly black hair protruded from the armor's joints.

Two carried small metal bows with short ugly shafts notched and ready.  The others brandished axes and nicked swords.  Even to a large human their size would have been formidable, each beast easily weighed 300 pounds, but to the small boy they were giants.  Piggish red eyes without whites were locked on the boy, who stood above his fallen mother.

"Naugz tar gutuk!" one barked at the others.  They started to close the distance, fanning out with sick grins of blood lust showing their black teeth.  Looking at those teeth, Aerin’s fear grew as he remembered the stories that said Togroths ate their foes raw.

From behind the burning wagon, a large man on a white horse trotted into view.  He was obviously a warrior; muscles bulged across his shoulders, arms, and nearly naked chest.  His normally white colored skin was well tanned. The hilt of a Great Sword projected upwards from behind his back and his bare wrists showed the golden chain marks of the legendary NexLord warriors. He had a strong jaw, deep-set dark eyes and short bristly blonde hair that was nearly flat across the top. Dominating his face was a somewhat long nose, arched at the bridge. His face was unconcerned and confident, even in the face of these monsters.

He was like some great hero out of bygone ages, the likes of which Aerin's father used to read about to his son; tales from the old books that told of the mighty NexLords who saved the world.  Hope played across Aerin's face. "Help me, please, my mother is hurt!” the boy cried out to the man.

The man spoke in the guttural tongue of the Togroths, though his voice was not as deep as the beasts.  "Kag, vabok Nas!” he barked to the six brutes.

Aerin didn't understand his words, but the short pulling motion of his forefinger across his neck told the story plainly.

The Togroths moved forward a little faster, behind them the man on the horse dragged Aerin's father from where he was draped lifelessly across the wagon seat and let the limp body fall to the ground.  Next, he tried to cut away the burning canvas before it caught the rest of the wagon on fire, but he was too late.

There was a zipping sound of an arrow cutting air, followed almost instantly by another.  Feathered shafts abruptly appeared projecting from the foreheads of each of the two Togroth archers.  They fell heavily to the ground.

The others barked loudly in confusion, but when a third fell to another of the deadly arrows, the remaining three charged toward Aerin and the lethal hail of arrows.

Out of the trees behind Aerin a cloaked man appeared carrying a dull gray staff, he was moving so fast his legs seemed almost to blur.  Although the Togroths were closer the cloaked man reached Aerin first.  As he passed Aerin his momentum did not diminish, the gray staff blurred in a horizontal arc that smashed the nearest Togroth's head to pieces. Hardly slowing, the blurring staff continued in a circle with the angle shifting downward.  The opposite end struck a thrusting sword, breaking the metal with a loud 'chink' sound.  Before the Togroth could do more than gape at the worthless hilt it grasped, the other end of the staff came down on the top of its misshapen head, not stopping until it reached the bunched shoulders of the dying beast.  The body dropped.  The sixth Togroth was already dead due to another feathered shaft protruding from its eye socket.

The sound of galloping horses was all that stirred in the forest meadow, as the muscle-bound human who had commanded the Togroths rode away leading the Togroth’s large mounts.  The fleeing man rounded the corner of the road a moment later and disappeared beyond the trees.

Aerin fell back to his knees at his mother's side; he lifted her limp hand and spoke softly, "Mother?"

The large cloaked man with the gray staff knelt down on one knee beside him and leaned his head down near Sariah's face.  Then in a low deep voice that rolled the ‘r’s in a strange accent that was full of compassion, he spoke, "I'm sorry, boy, but your mother is passed all pain now.  She goes to her reward in faraway Nevarian."

Aerin collapsed on his mother's still body and wept.  After a time, he sat up and turned his tear-stained face toward the wagon, "Father!"

The cloaked man next to Aerin looked toward the burning wreckage of the wagon to where another man holding a bow knelt by the body of Aerin's father, a look passed between the two men.  The large man with Aerin placed a black gloved hand on the boy's shoulder and shook his head sadly, sending Aerin into renewed tears of grief.

The creaking sound of moving wheels heralded the approach of another wagon, which finally stopped a short distance from the scene.  Aerin looked up through tear clouded eyes and saw an old woman with long gray hair.  Her blues eyes were nestled in a well-lined face, old with age and wisdom. There was a proud strength in the set of her shoulders, yet compassion in her expression as she climbed down from the wagon and approached.

The old woman's keen gaze took in the scene.  The story was plain to see.  "They'll need graves, over there by that copse of trees, where they'll have shade during the hot part of the day," she said to the accented man by Aerin. "They'd like that, wouldn't they boy?” her voice softened when she spoke to the grief-stricken orphan.

Aerin couldn't speak, but he nodded.  He stayed by his mother's side until the graves were dug.  When the cloaked man lifted Sariah in his large arms Aerin followed along behind, his head bowed.

Soon they went to get his father's body.  Aerin saw the book that his father had been reading to him earlier that day; it lay in the dirt by his father's hand.  The history book was Aerin's favorite and they had spent many an hour reading together about Ragol, last of the NexLords.  Aerin took it carefully into his arms and then followed as the cloaked man took his father's body and laid it next to his mother’s.   Aerin stood before the open graves to look upon his parents for the last time.  Still clutching the old book in his hands, he spoke softly, "I'll never forget you."  His tears fell on the old leather binding and then ran off to fall on the earth that would soon cover his parents.

The old woman spoke quietly to him, "Remember your love for them, boy, don't dwell on the pain.  You don't want to stain this place with only sorrow."

Aerin nodded, it was something his mother would have said.  He forced aside his grief for a few moments and remembered some of the good times and the love he had shared with his parents.  He almost smiled as he recalled the many nights sitting by the fireplace with his father reading wondrous stories, never tiring of his son’s endless questions.  His mother would sit with them, usually knitting, smiling, and sharing in the warmth of their family.  Aerin promised himself that he would remember his parents like that, and try not to think of how they died, only how they lived.  His parents had been caring, gentlefolk, that he loved above all else.  He couldn't watch as the cloaked man covered their bodies with the earth, mixed with tears and memories of love.

Aerin stood silently with his eyes closed even after the sounds of the shovel had stilled, but when a new voice spoke Aerin looked up and found an archer standing four paces before him, a long bow slung over his shoulder. The man was thin, and he had lavender-tinged skin, obviously one of the willowmen race.  He spoke in a soft voice, "What were your parent’s names?” He held two young saplings, recently uprooted.

Aerin mumbled out his parent’s names, and the willowman concentrated briefly on each of the saplings. Aerin’s parent’s names seemed to grow right into the thin trunks, appearing vertically.

When the willowman was done working with the saplings, he said, “Do these meet with your approval, young master?” And then before Aerin could answer, added, "Their names will grow with the trees that mark their resting place."

Aerin nodded to the lavender man in gratitude.

Soon the two trees were planted and Aerin had to face his future.

The old woman gazed deeply into his face, and Aerin met her keen stare with his red-rimmed eyes unblinking.  "Do you have other kin, boy?"

Aerin shook his head; his only uncle had died last spring, and both sets of his grandparents had passed away before he was born.  "We were going to Strakhelm, so my father could write the chronicle of the new NexLord," he explained dully.

Mara raised an eyebrow at this disclosure.  "Your father was a scholar then?  That is an interesting occupation for a man in these hard times.  No matter, now you may come with us, we too travel to Strakhelm.  I'll see you are taken care of once we arrive."

The large cloaked man finally pulled down his hood, revealing his completely hairless head.  Bronze irises with golden flecks sparkling within looked into Aerin's eyes.  "When his mother fell he didn’t run, he turned to face them with naught but a butter knife; he has courage Ma-r-r-ra," the Quarian rumbled, his accent rolling the 'r'.

Aerin looked with awe upon the strange man, he had often read about the mysterious Quarians but had thought them a mere legend.  He wondered about the Quarian’s hands, but the long sleeves of his cloak kept them covered.

Mara looked Aerin over again, and then a small smile crept to the corner of her mouth.  "Yes, Tocor, perhaps there is something here worth a look.  Do you remember that section I've pondered for some time?  `Common, but uncommon, and matched in grief, they bonded closer than any before.'  They have both lost their parents now."

The Quarian didn't answer, but he nodded, his bronze eyes never leaving Aerin's face.

The young boy took no notice of their talk, his heart ached for his parents, and his mind was far away in the past.

Aerin's wagon had completely burned to the ground, so with nothing but the history book, and no family, he climbed up into Mara's wagon to begin a new and greater journey.

Chapter Two

“...and I saw the savior of the land marked by the death of his father at an early age.  Son of the Warlord and a future Lord of the Nexus: metal heated by the fire of loss, shape molded by the teacher’s hammer, strength quenched in the blood of adventure and razor edge honed by the loyalty of his friends.  This I saw… Tremble Dreadmaster, cower Wraiths, for into this world comes a NexLord, and the strength of his Bond spells the end of an evil renewed since the beginning of time.”

-  From the Prophecies of Gold

Gandarel was plotting his escape.

While Kimmerman, his Courtesy and Protocol instructor, droned on about proper lengths of lace cuffs and when and how low to bow to whom, Gandarel was considering how he was going to get out of the castle, and more importantly, out of his lessons the following morning.

He nearly had it worked out now, first, he needed a diversion.  He had noted that one of the large sows in the animal pens out back had given birth to a pack of piglets a few weeks ago.  His plan called for the piglets to escape their pen and somehow get loose inside the main castle halls, in fact, very near to his first classroom session.  He decided to make sure they were well-covered in excrement to make them extra slippery.  Gandarel pictured the rotund Kimmerman trying to capture the slimy piglets as they ran squealing around the room, but he couldn't make his mind up if it was the piglets or his teacher squealing the loudest in his imagined comedic scene.  A small smile crept onto his young face and he tried to hide it, which of course made it even more difficult to contain.  A small shaking of his body and his eyes watering gave him away.

Kimmerman fixed him with a stern gaze.  "What do you find so amusing about proper choice of colors to wear to a funeral?

Gandarel swallowed hard, biting his tongue on purpose to stop his laughter, it wouldn't do to let Kimmerman know his fate before it transpired.  His teacher had a date with some pigs. That thought nearly started him laughing again, but he managed to contain it this time.  "Nothing... really, about a funeral, something else just struck me as funny."  He told his teacher.

Kimmerman just stared at him for a moment.  "Don't blame me someday when you're embarrassed because you're wearing an inappropriate jacket to an important dignitary's funeral.  Then we'll see who is laughed at!"

With a straight face, Gandarel said, "I'll do my utter best to follow your guidelines when it's time for me to go to your funeral, Sar Kimmerman."

"Well, you better listen if... MY funeral?” the chubby teacher gasped.  "What makes you say a horrid thing like that?"

Gandarel looked innocent.  "Well, everyone dies sometime; I was just trying to reassure you that you needn't worry about me embarrassing myself at your funeral."

Kimmerman was completely flustered now.  "Enough of that, let's get on to proper shoes.  You know well enough that I only have three years left to pound you into shape before you are required by law to make the journey to the Great Court and present yourself before the Regent.  That's no backwater city; it's the capital, where all the great Worthy of the court reside.  Gedin help us if you make a fool of yourself.  How would you like it if the Regent decided you were unworthy and sent in one of his Blue Coats to take control of guarding the border?  What would your father and his father think of your losing their hereditary post of Warlord of the Dragonback?"

Gandarel sighed, he was well used to these threats; he cared little for what was three years away; that was nearly forever to a bored twelve-year-old.  He went back to planning his escape.

He figured with the castle staff in an uproar over the pigs in the hall, it should be easy enough to slip in among the crates on the blacksmith's wagon. Tomorrow was Seconday, and the blacksmith always went into the city for new supplies.

Once out of the castle he would have the whole day to explore the city, and later he could just slip back in when the blacksmith returned.  Then he could just claim to have been studying all day.  What could they do to me, anyway?   He thought; Get a new heir to the Seat of Stone?

When Gandarel finished his Courtesy and Protocol lesson he fairly bounded out the door, his emotions flushed with the excitement of his bold plan of escape and adventure.  With boyish energy, he rounded the corner into the south wing and suddenly went sprawling forward as his feet were cut out from under him.  He skinned his elbow on the hard floor and cursed, "Gedin's blood!"

Then Gandarel's own blood ran cold from the voice that spoke from behind.  "Those that corrupt the ground with anger in the Lord's name will be tortured by the evil one through all eternity, so sayeth The Hand of God."

Gandarel looked up and saw Hork, High priest of The Hand, the church of Humanity.  The crippled man stood on his good left leg, his large ivory cane helping support his withered right leg.  He wore the simple white robe of The Hand's priesthood, and his piercing gray eyes bore through Gandarel's.

Hork's eyes narrowed.  "Boys should take more care with the body Gedin has blessed them with, and not run haphazardly through the hallways where they might fall and damage themselves and others.  Go in servitude, young Gandarel."

Gandarel got painfully to his feet, eyeing the cane in Hork's hand; he thought he had seen that cane for a split second as it darted out and tripped him, but he kept his opinion to himself.

"I will be more careful, your Holiness," he promised in a tight voice, eyes downcast.

Hork gave him the church's traditional prattle, "Follow the way of The Hand."

Anger seethed within Gandarel, but he swallowed it and nodded to the High Priest and then walked away at a normal pace.

He could feel Hork's fanatical gaze on his back.

Chapter Three

“Warlord and NexLord are lofty titles, yet during one vision I saw common folk becoming the friends and bonds.  Before any titles are bestowed, while yet heir to his post, I saw the Warlord's son meet his closest friend.  That meeting began with competition and ended in cooperation, and blood sealed their pact.”

- From the Prophecies of Gold.

Mara's wagon hit a particularly nasty rut in the road and jerked heavily, but the old woman made no complaint, her keen gaze was locked on the silent young boy beside her.  In the day since the Togroth killing party had slaughtered Aerin’s parents he had hardly spoken a word.  He still clutched the leather bound book in his lap.

"What is that book about, Aerin?” she asked, hoping to get him talking, she did not think this silence good for him.

"It's the true story of the last NexLord, Ragol," he answered, still speaking without much animation.

Mara frowned slightly, but almost immediately wiped it from her face.  "I wouldn't believe all you read, history is written by the victors, and told as they see fit."

Aerin's eyes were glued to the leather cover of the book.  "My father said this is the most accurate account of the last NexLord."

Mara shrugged.  "That could be true; it just means it lies a little less than the rest. That all happened over three hundred years ago… time enough for exaggeration, lies and falsehoods to be written, but tell me, why the interest in Ragol and olden times?"

"My father was a scholar, we were on our way to Strakhelm so he could write the story of the new NexLord," Aerin explained.

Mara smiled slightly at this.  "And who might that be?"

Aerin felt she was challenging his father's word, so he looked at her defiantly, "Gandarel Trelic, heir to the Seat of Stone, future Warlord of the Dragonback."

Mara laughed lightly at his stern look and words.  "Relax, boy, I was not disparaging your father's beliefs. I happen to know he was right, the young heir is destined to become a NexLord."

Aerin suddenly remembered the muscle-bound warrior who had led the attack on his parents, the one with the golden chain marks of a NexLord on his wrists.  "You're right, Mara, history has it all wrong, NexLords are cowards and murderers," he almost whispered, anger and hatred warring on his face.

Mara lifted her gray left eyebrow and inspected Aerin briefly. The emotions running deep within him were easy for her to read.  "Why the sudden change of opinion?"

"That man, the one who led the Togroths, he was a NexLord," Aerin explained, tears filling his eyes.

Mara was intrigued; the man Aerin was talking about had been gone before her wagon had come around the bend of the forest path.  "Why do you say that?"

Aerin lifted his left hand, pointing to his other wrist with a forefinger.  "He had the chain marks of a NexLord."

"Ah, now I see," said Mara, while smiling slightly.  "If we stop the wagon, and have Tocor come over with some paints and mark my wrists with some golden chains, I guess that will make me a NexLord."

Aerin frowned, considering this for a moment.  "No, that would just be a fake! Besides, you're a woman and the NexLords were mighty warriors."

"So chain marks are not what makes you a NexLord?  Then how do you know this man was one?  Didn't your father say he was going to write the account of the new NexLord, the first since Ragol?"

Aerin nodded.

"Then," she said, reaching over and touching his nose lightly with her forefinger to emphasize her point, "what makes you think that evil man was a real NexLord?  Did he act like one?"

"No," Aerin agreed.  "So he was an imposter?"

"Most definitely, and he is not the only one traveling the lands these days.  It's become quite fashionable, and more to the point, profitable for men to fake that title.  They get false respect and deference from the masses.  In addition, they fetch higher money for work as bodyguards and other militant endeavors," she explained.  She watched his face to see if she had been talking over his head, but her words didn't seem to confuse him.  She chalked it up to the education his scholarly father had begun.

"It isn't right," he exclaimed, "they shouldn't be allowed."

"Who is to stop them?  But don't worry; they'll get their just desserts in the end.  Most of these imposters die quickly, as anyone with such marks becomes the first target in any battle.   Remember, lies carry their own punishment," she explained, pushing back a lock of gray hair that the wind had blown across her well-lined face.

"If only Ragol was alive now, he would set things right!"

"That was a long time ago, Aerin," Mara said gently.

Aerin glanced down at the book in his lap.  "It says, in here, that he died alone, without friends or companions, attacking the Dreadmaster, but my father said that some people say he was captured and tortured into insanity.  I like to remember him at the battle of the Kitrick Wall, ready to take on the Dreadmaster's army, his Bondsmen at his side."

Mara nodded at the boy and said, "Perhaps that is best."

Aerin looked ahead, and in the distance, he could see large amounts of smoke rising above the trees.

"Strakhelm," she said in answer to his unasked question, "we'll be there soon."

"Is it on fire?” he asked.

She laughed merrily, "Don't worry, that's just the hearths and fireplaces at work preparing the evening meals.  We're still a ways off so we will make camp out here tonight and enter the city in the morning."

The next morning Mara's wagon rumbled across the cobblestones on one of Strakhelm's main city streets.  The old woman drove the two horse team, slowly heading for an Inn with a stable large enough to accommodate her wagon.  Aerin sat on the seat beside her.  The Quarian had retired inside the wagon before they entered the busy streets and the lavender man had also disappeared somewhere; as Aerin had discovered he was often want to do.

Aerin was amazed; he had been to more than one small city, but nothing like Strakhelm.  It was huge beyond his imagination.  Buildings were mostly four stories high, and there were towers even taller!  People were everywhere; the sheer mass of humanity nearly overwhelmed the young boy.  Strakhelm was the largest city east of the Dragonback, and home to the Seat of Stone, the Warlord’s castle.

Mara noted his wide-eyed look and smiled, it dawned on her that she had come to like the quiet boy during the two days they had been together.  "Quite a sight, isn't it?” she asked him.

Aerin nodded, watching a garishly dressed merchant pass nearby with four bodyguards flanking him on all sides.

A squad of ten men dressed in brown leather armor and sheathed swords filed past with what looked like a priest in white robes leading the group. Aerin noted the symbol of an open hand on the left breast of the priest's robe.

Mara scowled, but kept her eyes straight ahead, not looking at the priest, though he appraised the wagon from under his dark eyebrows as it passed.

Aerin looked back trying to get another look at the symbol on the priest's robe.

"Don't stare, Aerin," Mara admonished softly.

He sat back down.  "What kind of priest goes around with armed men?” he asked.

"The Hand," she noted dryly.

Aerin heard the scorn in her voice.  "Why do you dislike them?"

She suddenly smiled at him slyly.  "Now did I say I didn't like them?  Can't recall it, but let's just say I don't believe what they believe."

"And what is that?” he asked with the curiosity of the young.

"More than I care to get into, but I’ll tell you this much, they are very narrow-minded about a lot of things, like all non-humans being evil, that kind of thing."

"You mean they think Yearl and Tocor are evil?" Aerin prodded.

"Yes, as I said, very narrow-minded, but let's not talk about the priests of The Hand right now, let's enjoy the more positive sights of Strakhelm!” she said to lighten the mood.

Their wagon ambled over bumpy cobblestones as Mara guided them through several streets.  Eventually, she brought the wagon to a halt and climbed off and bid Aerin to wait.  She took some food she had wrapped up earlier and crossed the street to a man who crouched in the doorway of an abandoned building.  Aerin watched intently as Mara suddenly crouched down as she neared the raggedy man.  She scooted forward, animal-like, staying lower than he was and placed the food before him.

Aerin just couldn't understand what she was doing.

A few minutes later she was back and started the wagon on its way.  From inside the wagon, Tocor asked Mara a question.  "How was he?"

Mara's voice held a note of sadness, "No change, but it's not time yet."

"I know, but can't we..."

"He won't come, and yes, I worry as well.  Leave it be… for now," she said, glancing at Aerin who was looking back at the crouched form of the man in the doorway.

“Who is he?” Aerin asked Mara.

“Just a mixed up man that I look in on now and then, don’t worry about it,” she replied.

They passed a few more streets before Mara turned the wagon into a courtyard of a suitable looking Inn.  As they entered under the arched gateway she cautioned Aerin, "Don't you go far from here for a time, big cities are like jungles," then she joked, "Large carnivores wait to pounce on weak prey, and for now, you're looking pretty plump and tasty!” she pinched at his waist as if to test his plumpness.

That got a smile out of him; it was one of the first she had seen since the tragic loss of his parents two days ago.  "Like those priests of The Hand?"

"You stay clear of them, OK?” she cautioned, fixing him with a hard gaze for a moment.

"I will, I promise," he answered.

"Good!” she exclaimed, tousling his hair before getting down from the wagon.

Aerin noted two young boys about his age sitting on the outer wall of the Inn and wondered what it was like growing up with all these people around, he couldn't imagine it.

As she climbed down from the wagon Mara decided to test the young boy.  She fished out a Kingdom Crown coin and pressed it into his palm.  "Tip the stable hand for me," she explained and then headed for the Inn's front door.  As she passed the approaching stable hand she said.  "The boy has your tip; please give him ten pennies in change."

After the horses had been detached from the wagon and the two trailing mounts they had brought from Aerin's wagon were all boarded in the stable, Aerin tipped the stable hand the silver and received his ten pennies in change.  A few minutes later Mara returned.

Aerin held out his hand.  "Here is your change, Sen Mara."

And so you are an honest lad, she mused silently in thought.  "Well thank you, Aerin, and for your good work these two pennies are yours.  I noted a sweets shop a half block away... why don't you go and see what they have?  Perhaps you could buy something you like."

Aerin looked at the two pennies in his hand; he had never had money of his own before.

"Th-thank you," he stammered.

She smiled and pointed down the street the way they had come in.  "It's right down there.  I have some business to arrange, but when you get back, come to room three, that's where we’re staying."

Two others had noted the coins changing hands and as Aerin headed for the gate the two children who had been perched on the wall jumped down to the street.  One boy had short curly red hair while the second had straight black hair, cut like an upside-down bowl.  The dark haired boy gave his partner a nudge with an elbow and approached Aerin.

"Hello, and welcome to Strakhelm!” the street urchin said, sweeping a low bow before Aerin.  "My name is Lor, but you can call me... Lor," the youngster finished with a sly smile.

"Hello, I'm Aerin.  How did you know I was new here?” he asked, assessing the two as boys of about his age.

Lor laughed and said, "It's written all over you," then he pointed to Aerin's chest, "See, right here it says, `Greenie'."

Aerin looked down and Lor's finger came up to poke him in the nose.

"Caught ya lookin'," Lor teased.

Aerin scowled a little.

"Now don't be cross Merris, after all, I'm your only friend!"  Lor said, putting a friendly paw around his shoulders and leading him out of the Inn courtyard and into the jungle.

"My name is Aerin," he corrected.

"And my name is Lor; didn't we go over this already?  Or are you a little touched in the head?  Maybe you need to be put over on Netter Street with the other crazies?" Lor asked Aerin in a playful tone.

Aerin tried to regain his ground.  "No you called me Merr... never mind."

"Well, Aerin, since you and I are buddies now, and as buddies we need to share things, I was wondering, I happen to be extremely hungry, but alas, I have no money.  You wouldn't happen to have any so we can share a meal and really put the glue to our new friendship?" Lor asked, gesturing behind him, where Aerin couldn't see, for the red headed boy to follow.

Aerin had never had occasion to lie to anyone in his whole life and didn't even consider not answering truthfully.  "Well yes, I have two pennies."

"Two pennies, ‘tis not much," Lor began, but seeing the crestfallen look on Aerin's face amended, "but it is two pennies more than I have, and we can certainly get something to eat for both of us!"

"Mara told me to go to the sweets shop down the street here," he explained.

Lor shook his head wildly, punctuating each of four direction changes with a word.  "No, no, no, no.  A bandit runs that shop; he'll filch you blind and laugh his way to the bank.  I know a much better place where we'll get twice as much... and better stuff!  And you'll get just as much as you would have, even after you split it three ways."

"Three ways?" Aerin asked, now totally confused.

"Dono, here," Lor explained, grabbing the redhead by the shirt front and dragging him before Aerin, "is hungry too, doesn't he look pitiful?"

Dono had been smiling at his friend’s antics, but at Lor’s suggestion, his face expertly dissolved into a pitiful and hungry look just as Aerin turned to look at him.

"Well, I don't know," Aerin began frowning.

Lor slapped him hard on the back.  "That's the sport!  I knew you and I were going to be good friends, and friends always share!"

Aerin sighed.  "All right, I suppose."

Lor immediately stuck out his hand.  "Ok, then give me the money, after all, I'm the one who knows this city, and there are pickpockets everywhere!  We don't want anyone stealing," and here he shuddered at the word, "our money from us, now do we?"

Aerin looked at the open palm blankly for a moment.

"Come, come, or don't you trust me?" Lor asked in a hurt tone.

Aerin reached for his pocket.

The voice of another boy spoke from nearby.  "I would keep hold of my own coins if I were you."

Lor whirled around to see whom it was that had spoken.  His gaze landed on a well-dressed boy of their age who was standing with crossed arms a few feet away. He had long brown hair and light blue eyes and a devil may care grin on his face.

"And what have you to do with a transaction between my friend and me?" Lor asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Absolutely nothing, I just happened to overhear the conversation."  Then he turned to Aerin and continued, "You'd best keep your money in your own pocket if you wish it to still be yours."

Lor gasped in theatrical surprise, eyes blinking rapidly and hand touching the center of his chest.  "You imply that I am a thief!"

Aerin glanced between the two sparring children.

"Nothing of the sort, I am merely giving a little advice for the future.  However, if it will please you, to show I meant no offense, may I have the pleasure of buying you all something to snack upon?"

Lor again noted the wealthy dress of the boy, and suddenly his anger evaporated and he delivered a smile.  "Well, that's different!"

"But," the boy noted, "I will carry my own coins."

Aerin was a little startled by the swift changes and he felt like he was losing Lor's attention to the well-dressed boy.  "I have my own money so you needn't pay," he explained.

"Ah!” the new boy exclaimed.  "I'll tell you what; the last person to the end of this block does NOT get to pay!"

Aerin had to laugh.  "All right, you're on!"

The other boy said, "By the way, my name is Darel, and yours is?"

"Aerin."

"Well met Aerin… and… go!" Darel exclaimed.

The two boys broke into a run, both headed for the end of the block as though the Togroths were after them.

Lor looked at Dono with a frustrated sigh.  "Two frippen Greenies and they're running a race away from us… what are we, amateurs?"

Dono shrugged.  "You win some, you lose..."

Lor interrupted him, "I never lose anything!" And with that proclamation Lor leaped onto the back running board of a swiftly moving coach and soon passed the running competitors; he was waiting for them with a smug look at the finish of their race.

Having purchased a bag of boiled hard candies, the four children left the sweets shop and went further down the street. They stopped where an old building had been demolished and the framework of a new one was going up on the lot.  The construction site was squeezed between two other four-story buildings.  The children perched themselves on a pile of rubble and dug into the bag of sweets like starving horses with feed bags over their heads.

Darel looked over the other three children, noting the coarse material and loose fit of both Lor and Dono's clothing and the tidy, yet simple and well-fitting clothes of Aerin.  "So which part of the city do you two call home?” he asked, addressing Lor and Dono.

Lor answered him, "Everywhere and nowhere!"

"My that's a big house," Darel noted with a grin.  "But where do your parents reside?"

"I have no parents," Lor proclaimed.

Dono looked at Darel defiantly.  "And I know where my mother is, but she has no use for me.  My mother doesn't fuss over me and make nice clothes like Aerin's here must do."

At the mention of his mother a wave of pain crested over Aerin's body.  The waves had been coming on and off ever since his parents had died.  He tried to hold it in, but his eyes misted over and he averted his face from the others.

Lor noted the sudden emotion.  "What's the matter, Aerin?"

Aerin took a deep breath, trying to regain some control.  "My parents were both killed two days ago," he stated flatly, barely holding onto his voice control.

That silenced the other children for a moment.

"Here," Dono said, holding out two pennies to Aerin.

Aerin looked at the two coins blankly.  "I have my own money still."

"I warned you there were pickpockets around," Lor said with a small smile.

Aerin reached into his pocket and found his coins missing.

Dono looked sheepish as Aerin reclaimed his two pennies.

Lor leaped to his feet.  "Here, you wanna see something great?"

Aerin smiled wanly and said, "Sure, I guess."

Lor winked and replied, "Then follow me, if you can."  Then he took two bounding steps and leaped toward the nearest metal pole of the scaffolding.  He sailed the five feet head first with his hands outstretched.  He grasped the pole and let his momentum swing him around gracefully and when he released his body doubled over and he flipped through the air and landed on his feet on the next platform.  The move had been so fluid and graceful that it had almost seemed easy, yet it showed a control of balance and skill beyond Aerin’s belief.

Darel and Aerin were both gaping at Lor so he placed his hands on his hips and laughed at them.  "Come on, start climbing up here!  Last one to the roof is a horse's butt!"

Dono bounded up after Lor only slightly less spectacularly.  Lor waited until Dono had passed his level and until Darel and Aerin started climbing before continuing.  Leaping, swinging and climbing without the slightest pause or misstep, Lor reached the rooftop ahead of Dono, and minutes before Darel and Aerin arrived.

"Hello, Horse Butt!" Lor greeted Darel, who was slightly behind Aerin as they arrived.

Darel started to scowl but then shrugged and laughed.

Lor swept his hand horizontally, taking in the sea of varied rooftops across the city.  "You asked where I live, this is my home!"

Aerin looked out over the rooftops of Strakhelm; from this view, the city was a veritable maze of endless shapes and textures.  There were high spiraling towers, churches with fantastic statuary decorating the corners and plumes of smoke rising like shifting shafts of dark billowing cotton.  In the distance, to the west, the towering battlements of the Seat of Stone overlooked all.  It was a sight he would never forget.

"This is what we call the High Road, and here I am King!  Come on." Lor encouraged, and with a running start, he leaped across the six-foot gap between the newly constructed building and the edge of the next building's roof.

Aerin looked at the long drop below dubiously, but Lor yelled across.  "Come on, Greenie, you too scared?"

Aerin swallowed hard, and then took three running steps before leaping for all he was worth. He landed far past the edge.

"You'll need to work on that if you're going to travel the High Road," Lor noted, then ran along the thin roof edging. The long drop was to his left and the slope of the roof went up on his right.

Dono and Darel leaped across, and then the three boys followed Lor.

Darel called from the back.  "Where are we going?"

"To the ends of the earth, but today we’ll just do the grand tour of Strakhelm!" Lor called back theatrically, not realizing the prophecy of his words.

Aerin's heart was pounding in his chest from the nearby drop to the far ground, but he wasn't about to let the other three know, so he kept moving.

Lor brought them to a corner ledge where they could look down on a market square; the sales booths were in full swing.  They could see all the multicolored tent tops covering each seller's area. People were milling around in shifting eddies and tides that were only evident to the boys watching them from high above.  It was a strange feeling to travel above the world; no one looked up or took any notice of the kids.  Aerin suddenly had the impression of people going through their lives without ever knowing what they missed; focusing on their little world while events and opportunities they didn't even notice passed them by.

After a little time observing the market, Lor motioned for their attention, "Follow the leader," was all he said.

For the next hour, they traveled the rooftops.  Each time Lor leaped across a building each boy followed in single file, or when he slid down a smooth sloped roof to a lower area they slid down behind. It became a game to follow exactly. They tried to place their feet where the person before them had stepped, and little did Aerin and Darel know, but their instruction in the art of the High Road had begun.

Aerin and Darel both found themselves becoming more accustomed to the height as they spent more time leaping between buildings, scampering along edges and jumping up and down varying levels of roof heights.  They passed tall churches, walled in gardens surrounding impressive villas, narrow streets with stores packed in tight and even the large gladiator arena.

Exhilarated from the danger and flushed from their exertions, Lor eventually took them to a place where a series of shorter and shorter buildings brought them back down to nearly the street level.  He finally found a place where the new boys could jump down to some crates in an alley and reach the street level.

Dono looked around and then motioned to Lor, pointing out a scratch in the stonework on the corner of the alley.  The mark was a rough circle with three dots, two above and one below.

Darel noticed the look that passed between the other two boys so he poked Dono in the side with a finger.  "What's that mark?"

Before Lor could stop him Dono said, "Skull mark."

"It's nothing," Lor muttered.

Darel looked skeptical and said, "Tell me about 'nothing'."

Dono ignored him and spoke to Lor.  "Let's clear out over the roofs before we're spotted."

Darel crossed his arms and scowled at the two boys who were ignoring his questions.  "Spotted by whom?"

Lor ignored Darrel again and answered Dono.  "Don't sweat about it, they can't catch me."

Darel had enough.  "Look, are you going to tell us what's going on?"

Dono shrugged at Lor and then turned to face Darel and Aerin.  "We're in the Skull's claim.  They must have made a move yesterday, this was notown last we knew.  We best get out before one of their vultures spots us."

Aerin was confused, "What do you mean, what are vultures?"

"We're in Skulls Town now, but don't worry, I know the ropes, so if you stick with me you'll be ok," Lor explained.

"Skulls Town?" Darel exclaimed with a puzzled frown.  "I've seen many maps of Strakhelm, there's no quadrant called Skulls Town."

Lor kicked a piece of stone at a nearby rat, which scampered into a hole in the wall.  "Skulls Town ain't on no map, nor could it be as the lines keep changing, but you're in it now, that’s a Skull mark."

Dono looked toward the alley entrance nervously, watching the occasional person passing the opening.  He spoke without taking his eyes from where he watched.  "Ratpacks, they rule the streets around here; certain areas are notown and other places are claimed.  It's ok to drag your butt around if you don't do nuthin' wrong, but the Skulls recruit pretty young."

Darel scowled.  "Recruit?  What are these 'ratpacks'?  What do they do?"

Lor shook his head at Darel's naïveté; "They exist, that's their purpose.  Oh sure, they organize ratfights, where other ratpacks meet to decide who owns what street this week.  They steal but have to turn in their loot to the leaders. They have wars that no one knows how they started, but in the end, they do nothing but get us kids hurt, killed or arrested."

From the rote way Lor spoke, Aerin could tell he was repeating something someone had told him nearly word for word.  "Who taught you that?"

Lor rounded on him quickly.  "Who said anyone taught me anything?"

"I was just asking," Aerin replied.

"Well don't, I speak my own mind."

Dono suddenly hissed and they all looked up the alley just in time to see someone disappear around the corner.

"It was that jackal, Berver, and he spotted you, we're in for it now," Dono said fatally.  "He's running to spill his guts to Eddo, no doubt."  To the other boys, he added.  "Eddo has had this craving for Lor all of a sudden, wants him to be a Skull in a bad way."

"Let's fade, I don't belong to no Ratpack, and never will… I'm freelance!"  Lor exclaimed.  "Come on, no one knows these streets better'n me!  We'll lose them faster than a Wiggin’s honor."  He turned and headed the opposite direction from where they had been spotted.

They ducked down a smaller alley and popped out two streets south next to the hanging pot of a Tinker's shop.  There were a couple of high-pitched warbling whistle sounds from a street away.

Dono scowled.  "That sounds like a full-scale hunt! There must have been a group of Skullers just down the street.  Come on, Lor, get us out of this."

Aerin picked up the worry in Dono's voice and knew that this wasn't a game anymore.

Lor bit his lower lip for a moment and then spoke, "We'll head over the roofs to Mucuck Street, then past the Keper Cathedral and we'll be in Drake Town, they won't bug boys our age there, and Skulls won't dare follow."

Dono started across the street.  "Let's move then!"

A shrill whistle came from just up the street and Dono froze.  "Gedin, they're on us!"

"This way!" Lor called, running up the street.

They followed him through the thin crowd of people who took little notice of four children dashing through the streets.  The crowd began to get thicker, slowing them a bit, and the occasional whistles from behind them started getting closer.

They rounded a corner into one of the large open-air market squares and Lor led them into the throng of buyers.

For all Aerin knew this was the very market they had looked down at from above earlier.  He tried to spot the building corner where they had been perched and ran smack into the belly of a very round man.  The young boy rebounded, landing hard on his rump when he hit the ground.

"Watch where you're running, boy, and speaking of running, stop that too!” the fat man exclaimed, then stepped around Aerin and continued on his way, nose held high.

Aerin started to his feet but was suddenly grabbed by either arm.  He looked up and found himself staring at two strangers.  Both boys were around sixteen, and they were smiling wickedly.  "So, boy," one hissed, "you're in Skulls Town and you don't have no leave to be, now we'll be teaching you what happens when you run from the Skulls!"

Aerin saw a small earring pierced through one boy's right ear, it was in the shape of a cheap looking silver skull.

The crowd parted slightly and the boys each kept a grip on one of Aerin's arms as they started walking him down the row of seller's booths.

"Don't say nothin' or call out or I promise we'll break your arms," the boy on his left said and smiled, showing one of his front teeth broken half off at an angle.

Aerin shuddered.

Then Lor was standing before them next to a booth displaying small gold inlaid jewelry boxes.  The owner was busy with a patron so his back was half-turned away from Lor.

Lor reached back and in one quick motion snatched one of the boxes and tossed it to the cracked tooth boy holding Aerin's left arm.  "Catch," Lor exclaimed.

In reflex to keep the box from hitting his face, the boy released Aerin's arm and caught the box.

Lor immediately pointed and yelled at the top of his lungs, "Thief!"

The Skulls gang member's mouth dropped open as the large shopkeeper spun and saw one of his jewelry boxes in the miscreant's hands.  "Stop that thief!” he seconded, pointing a chubby finger at the shocked boy.

"It wasn't me, I..." he started, still holding the box, but when some angry citizen's started closing on him he yelped and darted away through an opening between two tents, still holding the box.  "Stop him!" someone yelled, and the chase was on.

The crowd closed in on this interesting action and Aerin was pulled away from the other Skulls boy.  He lost sight of Lor and just tried to keep from getting trampled.

Hands grabbed his collar and dragged him between two tents.  Aerin yelped, but it was Dono's voice that said, "Quiet, it's us, you Drakwolf!"

Aerin was relieved to see Dono and Darel crouched down between the two tents.  A few moments later Lor slipped in and gestured for them to follow.  They played a game of cat and mouse with a few of the Skulls who were hunting them through the market but finally slipped out into a side street.

"I think we've lost them," Darel noted while looking back down the street over his shoulder.

A shrill whistle let out from nearby and they all spotted a fairly young boy who was about their age. He had two fingers in his mouth to assist his whistling.

Dono scowled again.  "It's that stinkin' son of a Wiggen, Berver, again!  I'm gonna pound his ears!"

"Later," Lor suggested and then dashed down the street. The other three boys followed. Behind them, they once again heard the whistles of the Skulls hunting pack resuming the chase.

"Ok, Lor, this is your great moment to impress us," Darel exclaimed from the back as they ran.

Dono pointed to a wagon that was parked close enough to a lower roof edge to start them up onto the rooftops.

Lor took one step toward it but then stopped.

Dono nearly ran into him.  "What are you waiting for? They'll be here any moment!"

"They'll know we went to the roofs," Lor exclaimed.

Dono started forward again.  "So, who's king of the High Road?"

Lor glanced at Aerin and Darel.  "You forget these two are Greenies?  The Skulls will be all over us like crap in the sewers... wait, that's it!  Since they know I'll go up, we'll go down, follow me!"  Lor ran to the side of the street where the large black opening of a sewer drain split the curb.  He ducked down on his belly and lithely slipped in. "Come on, hurry!" his voice echoed from the dark interior.

Aerin got down and dropped in after him and Dono followed.  Darel stopped when he got close and could smell the rankness coming from the hole.  "Gedin's breath, I'm not climbing into that foul hole!” he exclaimed from where he had just lain down.  He started to get back up, but a hand darted out of the opening and grabbed the fine collar of his shirt. With a yelp, he was pulled headfirst into the drain.

It wasn't a moment too soon.  The sounds of running feet passed above a moment later and the whistles of their hunters echoed in the round stone tunnel where they crouched.  Lor had a hand over Darel's face, which stopped most of the mumbling sounds.  As soon as the footsteps were gone he released the struggling boy.

"Of all the foul and disgusting things I've ever smelled or done… this takes the ribbon!” he exclaimed and backed away from the thin river of slime that ran down the center of the tunnel.  "Can we please get out of here… NOW!"

Lor grinned at him.  "Too dirty for you, pretty boy?"

Darel scowled at the other boy, "I'm not your pretty boy, and I can handle anything you can."

Lor started down the tunnel deeper into the sewer.  "Good, then follow me, if you dare."

After traveling some distance from the place where they had entered the sewer they came to a branching of tunnels. After a little discussion between Lor and Dono, they picked one of the larger ones. As they began to realize that they had truly escaped the Skulls their relief turned to euphoria.

"THIEF, he yelled," Aerin exclaimed, imitating Lor's shout.  It echoed down the sewer.

Dono snickered and that made Aerin start to laugh.  Darel was trying to be sullen, but the echoing laughter of the other two boys was infectious and he was soon laughing with them.

"Did you see that look on his face?" Lor exclaimed while imitating the Skulls boy's look of shock and surprise.  "And when he bolted, that was perfect!"  Lor then splashed off down the sewer tunnel.  He waved his hands frantically in panic above his head giving an exaggerated performance of the running Skull Town boy.

The other three boys yelled, "Stop thief!” Then laughing, they ran down the sewer tunnel after Lor.

They were still laughing and running when the body dropped from high above to land directly before Lor.  In real panic Lor tried to stop and slipped in the mossy water, nearly skidding into the thrashing body. Red blood pumped from the slit throat of the dying victim.

The man was not yet dead and he tried to speak, but only bubbles of blood came out of his mouth.  Using his trembling finger and his own blood he drew a triangle with a single dot in the center on the slimy stones of the sewer, and immediately below he wrote four letters, "T-o-g-r," then he convulsed massively and died.

Aerin's face was white; the blood covered body brought back the horror of his murdered parents.

Even though the man was dead the massive wound in his throat still poured a trail of red blood into the stream of fetid water running through the sewer.

A feeling of terror rose in their hearts and as one, the boys turned and ran from the grisly sight.  They ran in blind terror for a few minutes through the dank sewers, but finally, Aerin slowed and Darel turned to look back over his shoulder.

"What are you doing?” he demanded, slowing as well.

Aerin stopped and the other three boys came to a halt as well.  All of them were shaking from the cold, the exertion and the terror.

"We have to go back," Aerin concluded.

Darel shook even more than the rest of them, but he said, "He's right; we have to go back and see if there is anything we can do."

Lor scowled at him, "Why?  We had nothing to do with this murder.  He's dead, and going back isn't going to bring him back to life, and it could get us killed."

Darel took a deep breath, "No, Aerin is right; we have a duty to see if there is anything we can do. This is murder."

"Exactly, and I don't want to be next," Lor stated.

"Suit yourself, but I'm going back," Aerin answered and headed back down the sewer.

Dono and Darel followed, and then a reluctant and mumbling Lor came along as well.

As they neared the location of the body their feelings of terror returned.  The boys stopped thirty yards away; the corpse was around the next bend.

"Gedin, do you feel that?" Darel said in a quivering voice as all four boys came to a halt.

Aerin nodded, swallowing dryly.

"It's the evil one's power," Darel whispered. Then he spoke repeating teachings he had learned, but ignored until now, "When a murder happens the Dreadmaster comes to stain the world for all to know and fear Gedin's wrath," he quoted from the Book of The Hand.

Aerin spoke in a quivering voice as he tried to master his fear, "My father taught me that the feelings of fear and terror are the power of the Dreadmaster, but that we must not give in to them or we feed his power."

He took a step forward and felt the terror increase.  The other three boys followed him and he managed to take another step.  With each step forward the next became a little easier, but as Aerin neared the corner he imagined the dead bleeding body of the man standing and waiting for the boys to appear.  His terror increased and Aerin couldn't make himself step around the last bend.

It was then that Aerin heard the low whispered voice speaking from just around the corner, it gurgled as if bubbles of blood were forming on the lips of the speaker, "Come to me and we will join and be together forever, for I am legion."

Aerin's heart lurched in his chest in such fear that he nearly threw up.

His body shook, and he would have run, but he was too afraid to turn his back.

The low whispering voice spoke again, "You called me from my slumber, but we have not met.  Come... Aerin..." the voice called, pausing as if just finding out his name.

Aerin wished he had the strength to run; he knew he was about to die.  He knew the creature was just around the corner, just two feet away.

Behind him Lor spoke, "Well if we're going back then let's hurry up and get it over with!"

His mundane impatience gave Aerin the strength he needed, so he leaped to the side of the sewer so he could see the horrible creature that knew his name.  A bloody hand did not come down on his shoulder, as he had expected, instead, he saw the fallen form of the dead Guardsman still lying in the sewer. The dead body had not moved.  With his imagination finally under control, Aerin found it easier to move forward, though the terror still huddled just under the surface of his control.

Following his example, the other three managed to come around the corner after him.

"Did you guys hear that voice?” he asked his friends.

Lor puzzled voice answered from close behind, "Voice?"

Aerin was afraid his friends would think he was a coward and imagining things, so he said, "I guess it was just an echo."

As they approached the fallen body they recognized the color of the man's clothes.

"Gedin take me, it's a Guardsman," Dono exclaimed, his eyes taking in the dead man's uniform.

Lor backed away from the ghastly corpse lying in the sewer.  "Who would dare kill a Guardsman?  They'll turn over ever stone in the city, hunt down the killer and feed his liver to the fish," Lor whispered.

Darel swallowed his fear and crouched down near the Guardsman to study his face.  "I know this man."

Dono gave Darel a puzzled frown.  "Know him, how?  In Gedin's name, I thought you were new here!"

Darel glanced at Dono who stood above him.  "You said that, not me.  I've lived in Strakhelm all my life.  We should go to the Guardsmen and tell them what we know."

Lor looked horrified.  "I will NOT!  Do you have any idea what kind of questioning they'll put us through?  Or maybe some dank cell full of rats and... and... and who knows what?  No, we forget we ever saw this, let the Guardsmen find out for themselves."

Darel stood up and faced Lor.  "No, that wouldn't be right, we have a duty."

"Duty… to what?  I have a duty to myself not to get locked up," Lor complained.

Aerin stepped between the two boys.  "You're both right, but this man has put an onus on us.  He entrusted us with his final seconds of life when he tried to identify his murderer; we cannot fail him."

That caught Lor and Darel's attention.  "What do you mean?" Lor exclaimed.

Aerin pointed to the blood on the stones of the sewer.  "He felt it important enough to write this message in his own blood, and he wrote it to US.  I say we try to find out what it means, and if we do find something worthwhile that might help solve this crime, we leave a note for a Guardsman.  That way we turn in the information without telling them who we are."

Lor was frowning at the strange marks on the stone.  "I don't know... maybe."

Darel looked determined and one of his brown eyes narrowed slightly as he spoke.  "I'll agree if it's understood that we must tell them what we know, regardless of what else we uncover, they might figure this out from the message better than four kids."

Aerin nodded.

Lor pointed at the short word the Guardsman had scrawled.  "What does that say?"

Darel studied it for a moment.  "I'm not sure..."

"You don't read either?" Lor asked.

"Of course, I read, it's just not a word," Darel replied.

Aerin crouched down next to Darel.  "Maybe it is two words, with the second unfinished.  To gr...," he sounded out the second syllable, sounding like a growl.

"What about this?  Is it a word?" Dono pointed at the triangle with the dot in the center.

Aerin shook his head.  "No, that's not a letter or word; it's a symbol of some kind."

"You can READ?" Dono exclaimed.  They hadn't been too surprised that the well-dressed Darel knew his letters, but this country boy?

Aerin looked at them defiantly. "Yes, it's not magic or something you know.  Anyway, have any of you seen something like this symbol before?"

None of them remembered it.

Aerin stood up. His feeling of terror still remained, but now it felt more like the fear he felt when standing near the edge of a high place, present, but manageable.  "Well, it’s getting time for me to get back; I didn't say I'd be gone this long.  Why don't we get together soon and see what any of us has come up with."

Dono nodded.

Darel said, "If I can."

After a glance at Darel, Lor said, "We must all swear not to speak of this to anyone else until we leave the note for the Guardsmen, and then never again unless we all agree."

Aerin put out his hand, palm up.  "We'll form a pact, we only speak of this when we’re together, and we come if the others need us, no matter what… and we never betray one another."

The other three put their hands together on top of Aerin's.  "Now think of the most important thing in your life and hope to lose it if you break this pact," he explained, remembering a story he had once read.

Each boy thought for a moment and then nodded.

"Our pact is sealed. Now when do we next meet?" Aerin asked.

Lor answered.  "I say tomorrow; we’ll meet at one hour past noon outside the Inn where we all first met."

Darel looked troubled but nodded.

Dono and Aerin agreed.

Aerin looked around the sewer, occasional openings above cast beams of light across the round walls every so many yards.  "Lor, can you lead us away from here?  I don't want to run into whoever killed the Guardsman by climbing up here and right into their knife."

"I can get us somewhere near Ragol Square, then we can climb out and take a look," Lor decided.

Lor led the way down the tunnel with Dono and Darel right behind him, Aerin brought up the rear.

Aerin once again thought about the evil whisper he had heard earlier and wanted to look back to make sure the corpse wasn't moving behind him.  He shivered and suddenly felt a cold presence.  He stopped as if frozen, standing in the mucky water.  His friends continued on ahead.  Aerin felt someone's breath on the back of his neck and smelled blood in the air.  He was just about to spin around when the voice whispered from right behind his ear, "I'll be seeing you soon, Aerin."

Aerin ran, not caring about the fetid water he splashed and not daring to look behind him until he caught up with his friends.  When he finally gained enough courage to look down their back trail there was nothing but the disturbed water behind them.

Once out on the street Darel bid them goodbye and headed away quickly.  Lor and Dono took Aerin to within sight of his Inn and then waved at their new friend before fading into the city streets.

Chapter Four

“And by promise broken, the teacher will find her student."

- From the Prophecies of Gold

Gandarel's return to the Seat of Stone was as bad as he had anticipated.  Once they recognized him through the caked mud and filth on his clothes, the guards admitted him through the gate and escorted him to the main hall.  Standing on the landing at the top of the entry stairs was Niler Corbin, first seat of the council, and Gandarel's personal nightmare.  The young boy could almost swear there was a small thundercloud actually hovering above the scowling councilman.

"Where have you been, Gandarel Trelic?"

Twenty lies came to mind instantly in the face of the anger on Niler's face, but what came out was the bald truth. "I... wanted to see the city," he sputtered.

Niler shook his head sadly at Gandarel.  "After all, I've tried to teach you since your father died; he would be so disappointed in what you have become."

More than anything else that Niler could have said, that blow hurt Gandarel.  He looked down at his muddy feet in shame.

Niler continued, "Perhaps I have been too lenient, and it's my fault.  Shall I order my own head struck from my body?  Indeed, perhaps it IS my failure?  Have you any idea what you have done?  Half this day has been spent in search of you. Rescue parties have gone out and an emergency meeting of the council has pondered what enemy might have abducted or killed you.  Was it some horrid Drakwolf assassin?  Perhaps a Togroth killing party had you roasting on a spit?  Had some unnamed rival of your family removed the final link to the Trelic line?  No, you were on holiday, without a word to anyone, without a single guard, without a single brain in your head.  Well, I'll tell you this, Gandarel Trelic, you will rue this day! I will not fail my responsibility to your father!"

Gandarel tried to keep the tears in, but two escaped, cutting canyons through the caked filth on his cheeks.  His head was hung so low his chin rested against his chest.

He wanted to say, "If you had given me time to be a boy, perhaps I wouldn't have had to sneak out and cause all this trouble," but his tongue felt thick with shame.

"Go to your room and wash that filth off.  Have those clothes disposed of and then meditate upon your sins.  There will be no supper for you tonight and by tomorrow, you had better be able to quote, word for word, the first three pages of the merchant's law, chapter four."

The merchant's law book was one of the driest books Gandarel had ever studied, Niler knew he hated to even read it, let alone memorize pages of the legal language.

Gandarel nodded slightly and started toward his room.

Niler spoke before he could leave.  "I had better send someone to watch over your trip to your rooms, who knows if you might decide to sneak off again and cause more anguish."  He beckoned someone forward with a wave of his hand.

With a glance, Gandarel recognized Enolive, the bone skinny councilman.

"Enolive," Niler ordered, "escort the child to his chambers."

The other council member moved up from behind Gandarel and took the small boy by the upper arm to guide him in the direction of his chambers.  Gandarel hardly noticed the cold grip of his fingers.

Once they were around the first corner away from Niler, Enolive released his arm and Gandarel was shocked to hear a quiet dry chuckle from the bony councilman.

"I haven't seen old Niler in such a rage in quite some time; did you see how red his face had become?"  Enolive asked with amusement in his voice.

Gandarel was speechless.

"You can relax; I'm not here to berate you.  Unlike Niler, I still remember what it was like to be a boy.  What you did was still wrong, though..."

Gandarel's surprise abated somewhat; he figured the lecture from Enolive was now forthcoming.

"... you should have done it a different way."

"What?" Gandarel blurted out, looking over at the bony head of Enolive, the man's white skin always seemed thin and stretched, but right now the mouth was showing a toothy smile Gandarel had never seen there before.

"You cannot just disappear without anyone knowing what happened to you, people get in an uproar! You are the heir to the second highest seat in the land, my boy," the councilman reminded him, poking him in the side with a bony finger for emphasis.  "What you should do is tell them you need a certain amount of time set aside for yourself."

"They wouldn't let me, Sar Corbin would definitely forbid it; he considers my time to be his time."

"He cannot stop you, my boy.  You see, even though you are too young to take the Seat right now you still have certain rights and powers.  As heir no single councilman can overrule you, only a unanimous vote of the council can do that, and only until you take the Seat."

"Are you sure?" Gandarel exclaimed.

Enolive smiled.  "You really should look at those law books that Niler keeps trying to coax you into reading, they explain this very clearly.  When we get to your chambers I'll point out the very chapter and you can read it for yourself.  But mind you, Niler will try to overpower you by sheer will; however, as long as you have one friend in the council he has little real power over you."

Gandarel sighed and said, "The council will just follow whatever he asks for anyway, and they will overrule me."

"Don't forget, I am a council member.  Without my vote, they cannot overrule you.  If you ask reasonably for some time to be set-aside for yourself I promise that I will back you up.  I would say that three days a week your classes should end by noon.  I wouldn't call that unreasonable."

Gandarel was nearly speechless, and as promised Enolive showed him the chapter in one of the law books that covered the powers of the heir to the Seat.

Mara's method of discipline was much more direct; she grabbed Aerin by his ear and led him straight across the Inn courtyard to a horse trough, where she promptly pushed him in.  He came up sputtering from the cold shock of the water, but as soon as he had a breath she pushed him under again.  After his third dunking, she let him clamor out. He looked very much like a drowned rat, his hair hanging straight down in his face.

"Just when I thought I could trust you the first thing you do is disappear in a strange city for hours, only to turn up covered in who knows what!” she fumed.

"I'm sorry, Mara, I met some boys and they were showing me the city, but then we got in Skulls Town, and we were chased, and Lor yelled thief and we ran and had to hide in the sewers..." he rambled, water sputtering from his lips.

Again Mara grabbed one of the twin handles attached to the side of his head and dragged him toward the Inn.  "We have a few rules we are going to discuss now so there aren't any further misunderstandings.  I can see that I've been too easy on you.  I was worried about how you were handling your grief, but if you have the desire to get in trouble… well, I suppose you've recovered enough.  First rule: I'm the boss; you always do as I say.  Second rule: you're always home by dark. Third rule: you tell me where you're going, and when you'll be back, and IF I decide that you can go, I'll let you know.  Fourth rule: don't forget who your friends are, worry makes them really mad.  Break the rules once and you'll be punished, break the rules again and I'll turn you over to an orphanage.  Got it?” she exclaimed, swinging the wincing boy around by his ear to face her.

With wide eyes, Aerin nodded his assent.

"Good!” she exclaimed, and then hugged him to her body.  "I thought we'd lost you."

"I... I'm sorry, Mara, it didn't seem like a long time, but I promise that I'll never make you worry again."

Mara grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him to arm’s length so she could look into his eyes.  "Don't make promises you can't keep, especially to friends," but this time she brushed the wet hair out of his eyes and gave him a little smile, the thin lines in her skin crinkling even more.

"Am I really your friend, Mara?” he asked in a small voice.

She considered the young boy before her and the courage in which he had handled the loss of his parents, the honesty in his eyes touched her and she had a sudden feeling.  "Yes, Aerin, you and I are friends, and we are destined to be great friends," but then her face turned stern again.  "But don't you forget my rules!"

"I won't, Mara, and I really am sorry."

Mara nodded.  "I know you are, Aerin.  Now let's get you dried off and put to bed, it's been a long day."

Gandarel stopped outside the council hall and worked up his courage.  He had just decided to forget his whole plan when he saw Councilman Corbin coming around the corner.

"And who gave you leave to come out of your room?" the councilman asked, gray bushy eyebrows rising in question.

That pushed Gandarel over the top; he opened the door to the council chambers and entered without answering Niler.

"Gandarel Trelic, I asked you a question!" Niler exclaimed, following him into the chamber.

The remaining eight council members were already inside the room and seated around the wide rectangular table.

Gandarel's voice cracked a little as he answered meekly.  "I'm here to address the council."

Again he hovered on the edge of his fear, thinking about leaving quickly, but Enolive caught his eye and gave him a slight nod of reassurance.

Gandarel held onto the reins of his fear.

"So you're here to apologize for your behavior, well, get on with it," Niler exclaimed, taking his seat at the head of the council table.

Gandarel went to the opposite end and stood, facing the group of expectant faces.

"Yes, I am here to apologize for my causing you worry today, it won't happen again," he said with eyes downcast.

The men all nodded.

Niler spoke in a condescending tone.  "Fine, boy, we will consider it a closed matter, but you will still recite the pages I assigned you tomorrow, so you had best go back to your room and get on with your penance."

Niler's tone struck a chord in Gandarel and he raised his eyes to take in the table of men.  "I'm not through, yet," he said a little louder, a dose of his father's famous anger spreading through his veins.

Niler just raised those bushy eyebrows at him again.

"I am sorry, but I am also not completely to blame.  You called me a boy, and yes that's what I am, and it's high time I had a chance to be a boy."

Niler's glare deepened.

"From here on I want three afternoons a week to use as I see fit; to be 'a boy' as you put it.  At other times, I will continue to take your instruction, as my father would have desired."

Niler shook his head.  "Completely out of the question, perhaps if you hadn't pulled this stunt today an hour or so a week could have been arranged..."

"I want three afternoons a week," Gandarel repeated.

Niler stood. "I said no."

"As heir to the Seat of Stone it is my command," Gandarel almost whispered, but he got it out past his wildly beating heart.

"What… who has put this nonsense into your head?  Until such time as you take the Seat the council shall decide what is best for you!"

"No, the council is only in support of me, though I understand you can override my decisions if you choose," Gandarel explained, then added, “You may read it if you like,” and he opened the book he had brought with him to the marked page and passed it down.

Niler looked it over briefly. "I am familiar with it, boy; don't try to teach your teachers.  You argue a moot point, yes you can decree, but I overrule, and that's the end of it."

Again Enolive gave him a slight nod and a wink, encouraging the young heir.

Gandarel swallowed and then answered Niler Corbin.  "Only a unanimous vote can overrule me."

"Fine," Niler said, glowering.  "All in favor of overruling this ridiculous notion say, `Aye'."

There was a chorus of Ayes around the table.

"Now get back to your chambers and start reading..."

Niler was interrupted.  "I say `Nay'," Enolive proclaimed.  "The boy is within his rights to have some time to himself."

Niler was speechless.

"Thank you,” Gandarel said in acceptance of his win, “I will now retire to my chambers.  Tomorrow will start my first day of afternoon free time.  Good night all," Gandarel gave them the proper quarter bow reserved for esteemed colleagues as taught by his protocol instructor, then he wheeled around and walked out with his head high, once the door closed he gave a whoop of glee.

Inside the council room, the boy's yell was clearly heard.

"I hope you're ready to explain your actions," Niler said grimly to Enolive.

"I have nothing to explain.  The boy was within his rights and wasn't asking for more than was reasonable.  Now shall we get on with other business?" Enolive asked innocently in the face of Niler’s anger.

Aerin awoke to the low sound of voices in the room.  He realized he had been hearing them for some time in that stage between being asleep and fully awake.

"...but you've told me before, the Prophecy is often vague, how can you help it along when even you don't know what it means?"  Tocor asked, and the large Quarian's voice was deep and gravelly.

Mara answered him.  "I’m fairly sure of this part, Gandarel is the one.  'Son of Warlord and future NexLord', is fairly obvious.  We must get that boy under my instruction soon; he is already at the age where I must begin."

Aerin cracked an eyelid and saw Mara's gray hair; she was sitting with her back to him.  Tocor sat across from her with his arms crossed on the table.  Aerin shifted slightly, trying to get a look at Tocor's hands, he still had not seen them.  The Quarian usually kept them within the long sleeves of his cloak.

Mara noted Aerin’s slight movement even though he was behind her chair.

"Good morning, Aerin," she said pleasantly.

He greeted them both and sat up stretching.  "Mara, do I have 'chores'?” he asked.  His role within Mara's group was still unknown to him, and he wanted to have time to meet his new friends.

Mara turned to consider the boy.  "I've never raised a child before, let me consider.  What is your ambition in life, Aerin?" she asked abruptly.

Aerin was puzzled.  "What do you mean?"

Mara turned her chair so she could look at him more comfortably.  "When you have grown to a man what do you wish to do with your life?"

"Father told me I was going to be a scholar, like him."

Mara frowned a little.  "That's a worthy goal, to be sure, yet is that what you desire?"

The boy rubbed at his sleep encrusted eyes.  "I'm not sure, but it's what my father wanted."

"Aerin," Tocor suddenly barked, "catch!" and tossed an apple at the boy, it came at a fast pace.

Aerin caught it just before it struck his chest.

Tocor's hand had already moved back within the robe before Aerin thought to look at it.

"He has good reflexes and coordination, Mara," Tocor noted.

"Indeed," she replied.  "Perhaps... Aerin?” she asked, interrupting herself.

"Yes, Mara?"

"Just for fun, if you could do anything in the whole world, be anyone, with any skill, what would you do?"

Aerin thought for a moment.  "I'd have friends like Ragol did, and we'd be the best fighters in the land, then we'd stop the Togroths from killing any more people."

Tocor glanced at Mara with amusement in his eyes.

Mara scowled.  "Ragol, Ragol, that's all I ever hear."

"He was the greatest NexLord to ever live; he stopped the Togroths and the Dreadmaster!"  Aerin exclaimed.

"Ragol was a fool," Mara noted.

Aerin was shocked; the Legendary Ragol had been his hero for as long as he could remember.  "He was not!  Nobody listened to him... they were the fools!  If he was alive in this age he would have done something about the Togroths and maybe my parents might still be alive!"

"Ragol was a fool because he believed people would listen to his warnings because of who he was, and when they didn't he grew angry, like a fool.  But enough of the past, that happened over three hundred years ago, we were talking about your future.  I'll consider what you've said and we'll start your instruction soon if you want it.  As far as chores, eventually I'll have some for you, but for now, you have it easy.  Just remember, don't stray away unless you get permission from Tocor, Yearl or me."

"I will, Mara, but is Yearl coming back?" Aerin asked, wondering about the disappearance of the lavender man who had planted the strange trees at his parent's grave.

Aerin nearly leaped out of his skin when Yearl's soft voice spoke from his left."

"Where do you think I've been, young Aerin?” the lavender man asked.

Aerin's heart was bouncing around within his chest, seemingly trying to find a way out of his rib cage.  "How did you do that?" he finally blurted out.

Yearl shrugged.  “Do what?”

Aerin would have sworn that Yearl wasn’t there a moment ago and seemed to appear out of nowhere when he spoke.  Aerin wondered how he had not noticed the willowman before.

"I'll be gone till late afternoon," Mara continued, her voice showing no surprise at Yearl's presence, "as I must procure housing for us; we can't stay at this Inn forever."

The chair creaked as Tocor's heavy weight lifted when he stood up.

"Aerin," the large man rumbled," I need to purchase some leather; you may come with me if you like."

Aerin scrambled out of bed.

"Eat something," Mara noted, stopping him mid-stride.

Aerin scooped up the apple Tocor had tossed at him earlier and then followed the Quarian out the door.

Tocor put up his deep hood before they reached the street, and he carried his smooth gray staff like a large walking stick.  Aerin almost had to run to keep up with the wide stride of the tall Quarian.

The boy was almost disappointed when he caught a glimpse of Tocor's black-gloved hand where he gripped his staff.  The fingers seemed to be of normal human shape.

They had only gone a few blocks when Aerin noticed his friend Darel coming up the street.  "Look, Tocor, there's Darel. He’s one of the friends I met yesterday at the Inn."  Aerin raised his arm to wave when he noticed two Guardsmen following a pace behind Darel; they almost seemed to be following the boy.

His cry of welcome died on his lips, he wondered if Darel had broken his word and gone to a Guardsman about the murder.  Darel had made it plain he thought that was the proper course of action.

Tocor's bronze gaze took in the fine clothing that Darel wore, and the two Guardsmen.  He could tell by the way the Guardsmen watched the crowd, and how they positioned themselves compared to the boy that the guards were assigned to protect, not apprehend the young boy.

"Who is your friend?" Tocor asked, with far more interest than he showed.

"I don't know a lot about him, but he lives in the city.  I think he comes from a wealthy part of town," Aerin guessed, remembering the many coins Darel had displayed while paying for the sweets.  He had to smile remembering the way Lor's eyes had nearly bulged from his face at the sight of those coins.

"Indeed," Tocor responded, his interest piqued.

Darel and the Guardsmen turned a corner without seeing Aerin and were soon lost to sight.

Tocor motioned with his staff, and they started off again toward the shops.

As they turned the corner at the end of the block a small knot of people could be seen a few steps ahead, they seemed to be gathered around something to the side of the road.  Whatever captivated their attention was blocked from Aerin's sight by the backs of the watching spectators.

Some kind of colorful balls rose above the people's heads in a regular pattern; there was a gasp of pleased surprise from the crowd, followed immediately by light applause.  The crowd started to disperse and you could hear the sound of coins being tossed into a cup.

Tocor herded Aerin across the street to avoid the dispersing crowd.  Aerin looked back to see what had pleased the spectators and caught a glimpse of Lor picking up a cup and emptying it into his pocket.  When he was done Aerin’s friend started juggling the small colorful balls.  New spectators started to gather but soon Aerin and Tocor were too far away to see.

There was no sign of the Guardsmen when Darel met Aerin that afternoon in front of the Inn.

Aerin looked up and down the street before speaking to his new friend.  "Darel, you didn't go to the Guardsmen, did you?” he asked as soon as Darel drew close.

Darel frowned.  "Of course not, we all agreed on our plan, though I still think we should talk about this."

"Then who were those Guardsmen with you earlier?"

Darel's eyes glanced away.  "One of my," and here he hesitated, "teachers asked the Guardsmen to look after me, I got in a little trouble for coming in so filthy and late yesterday," he admitted.  "But I left them at the Library.  I told them I was meeting a friend to do some research and wouldn't need them for at least four hours.  I didn't actually lie..."

Aerin was new to the city so Guardsmen guarding wealthy boys didn't seem like such a strange thing.

Darel lowered his voice.  "Don't mention the Guardsmen to Dono and Lor, they don't seem too keen on Guardsmen and I don't want to upset them."

Aerin nodded, looking around for the two mentioned boys.

"I wonder if those two rascals will show?" Darel asked.

"I'm sure they will after what we saw..." Aerin trailed off, not wanting to actually say something about a dead man.  "You keep an eye out for them; I need to tell someone something real fast."  Then Aerin ran back to the Inn courtyard looking for Tocor or Yearl.  He nearly ran into the large Quarian who stood leaning on his gray staff just inside the gate.

"Oh!" Aerin said, sliding to a halt when he found the Quarian so close.  "I was just looking for you! Mara told me to tell you when I was going somewhere.  I'd like to go and play with my new friends, Darel, Lor, and Dono if that is all right?"

Tocor's eyes had not left the gate opening where he was studying the profile of Darel.  "All right, just make sure you're back by supper time or Mara might skin you and make a new scabbard out of your hide."

Aerin's eyes widened a bit, but he nodded and then ran back to Darel.

They walked a little ways while looking up and down the cobblestone street for either of the other boys.

There was the soft sound of two feet hitting the ground behind them and the boys spun around to find Lor standing with his arms crossed, with Dono a pace behind.  "Think we weren’t gonna show, Ladies?" Lor asked with a grin.

Darel laughed.  "I knew you'd be here, you're not the kind of person that runs from a challenge."

"Not much of a challenge; I already have a lead," Lor said proudly.

The other boys instinctively moved in closer.

At Lor’s pause, Darel raised his right eyebrow and spoke in a quieter voice, "Well?"

"Perhaps I'll share it, let me ponder," he said with a sly glint in his eye.

Darel scowled at him but guessed correctly that prodding the other boy would only delay things.

Aerin thought he had better defuse things quickly.  "I saw you juggling!"

Lor gave him an overly done innocent look, "Who, me?  I couldn't juggle a single rock," but he smiled, "of course, it might depend on the size!"  As he said this he was suddenly juggling five colorful balls. Where they had come from none of the other boys had any idea.  The balls circulated in an intricate pattern, fooling the eyes of those watching, and then almost as suddenly as they had appeared they were gone.

"Thank you, thank you, and no applause necessary!" Lor laughed.

Aerin grinned, "You're really good at that, you must have taken in quite a haul yesterday! I saw you empty out that cup in your pocket."

Lor suddenly looked a little nervous but hid it quickly.  "I made a couple pennies, but nothing to speak of, you must have been mistaken.  I sometimes put a few coins in so that the spectators think it's proper to throw more, it is part of the game."

Aerin didn't believe him completely, he had heard the number of coins hitting the cup, but Aerin let it go.

Lor suddenly turned and headed for an alley; over his shoulder he called unnecessarily, "If you want to see what I learned about our friend from the sewers yesterday, follow me!"

Within minutes, Lor had them onto the rooftops again and they quickly fell back into their order of the prior day: Lor, followed by Aerin, then Dono and finally Darel.

They traveled the High Road for a good half-hour, running along the roof edges, parapets, ledges and rain gutters.  Aerin's heart still tended to enter his mouth at times, but he had to admit he was getting used to the heights.  Eventually, Lor held up his hand and the four boys approached a short wall at the edge of a flat roof.  Lor crouched down so as not to be seen and the others followed suit.

All four of them peeked over the edge and looked down on the wide street below.  To either side, there were nondescript gray stone structures built up to the typical four stories of Strakhelm buildings.  Across the street from them, there was one of the numerous churches, with four tall pointed spires on each of its corners rising high into the sky, and in the center was an ornate peaked roof of the central worship hall.  Parishioners were entering the open doors below in small numbers.

They looked for a moment, and finally, Darel broke the silence.  "So... it's a CHURCH!  There are countless churches in Strakhelm."

Lor held up his hand.  "Wait... and watch."

There was a small group of ten parishioners standing on the top landing before the open doors of the church, a moment later the person they were waiting for arrived and the whole group moved into the church.

Darel spoke up again as he started to stand upright from the uncomfortable crouch.  "Look, I don't see..."

"Then look closer!" Lor whispered intently and pointed down.

Darel immediately crouched back down when he saw what Lor was pointing out.

The group of people below had moved, revealing the inlaid stonework they had been covering on the landing of the church.  It was a large red triangle with a dot in the very center, the very symbol they had last seen drawn in blood by the dying Guardsman.

Lor slipped below the top of the wall, turned his back and sat down.  "I did my part, now what's our plan?"

The others sat down as well and they all grew thoughtful for a time.

Aerin finally spoke, "It's the symbol, all right, but that doesn't prove anything.  We need to get inside and have a look around."

Dono rolled his eyes and leaned his head back, smacking it slightly on the stone of the wall.  He winced and said, "I just knew someone was going to say that.  Whoever this is we're after KILLED a Guardsman, they won't even blink about skewering the whole lot of us!"

Lor smiled slyly.  "Then we'll just have to make sure we aren't caught.  I'll go in, anyone here brave enough to go with me?"

Darel scowled.  "I will go anywhere you will go."

Lor raised an inquisitive eyebrow.  "I'll remember you said that someday."

Aerin took a quick look over the wall at the large dark gray church.  "We'll need someone to stay outside and alert the Guard if something seems to be going wrong."

Dono looked at Aerin with his head tilted to the side.  "I suppose you are 'volunteering' to wait?"

Aerin sat back down.  "No, actually I was thinking that you would be best for that job.  You know the city well and could get to the Guardsman faster than I could.  On the other hand, none of us know the inside of that Church, so I will be as good as you in there."

Darel twisted the edge of his tunic nervously. "So what's our plan?  Walk up to a priest and say, "Excuse me, but did you kill a Guardsman yesterday?  We were just kinda curious because we might want to join your church."

Lor glanced at Darel with half-lowered eyelids.  "Funny boy."

Aerin nodded slowly, he hadn't even heard Lor's reply.  "That's not a bad idea..."

Darel swiveled his incredulous expression to face Aerin.  "What are you, two hoops short of a full barrel?"

"No… I mean, we won’t talk about the Guardsman, but the part about wishing to join their church is the ticket.  We could say we're interested, that way we have a reason for being there and for asking some questions.  Other than that we just keep our eyes peeled and look for anything that seems out of the ordinary.  If we find something, then we go to the Guardsman.  What do you think?"

Lor nodded.  "That's a good plan.  They're always looking for new converts at these places, but be warned, I don't know about this church, but some of them don't let their hooks out of fresh meat if you know what I mean."

"We'll give them false names and we won't tell them where we live," Aerin improvised.

Dono laughed.  "That is easy since Lor and I live all over the city."

"How about you, Darel?" Aerin asked, "Got a good place you can say is your home?"

"I can come up with a story, no problem," Darel agreed.

Lor looked at his fine clothing.  "No doubt, you haven't even told us the truth, I'd wager."

Darel's look of chagrin made all three of the other boy’s chuckle.

Aerin patted Darel on the back.  "It's ok, Darel; you'll tell us when you're ready."  To the other two boys, Aerin added, "He's probably the Guardmaster's own son."

Lor's eyes narrowed a little, but then he laughed.  "T'would serve me right if he was for throw'in in with a stranger on something as crazy as this little adventure."

Darel was quiet, the truth was worse than their fanciful idea.

Aerin was considering his plan for sneaking into the church when something his father had warned him about came to mind.  "There is another danger we may face if we step into that church."

Darel frowned, "What is worse than being killed and tossed down a sewer?"

Aerin shrugged, "I didn't say worse, just another danger.  My father taught me about beliefs, and the power within them to control a person.  If we enter that church we may come under the sway of their beliefs, and if we do believe, we give them power."

"They aren't going to convince me of nothing!" Lor said in a scoffing voice.

Dono frowned at Aerin, "Yeah, quit trying to scare us, it's not like they can take over our minds!"

"No, but they might mess with your emotions.  Like the Forbidden Zones, you know the stories about them making you feel things."

That quieted the boys for a minute, everybody knew about the Forbidden Zones.

"There is nothing to those, so you feel something, it goes away when you leave," Lor stated, but his voice did not hold true conviction.

Darel shrugged, "It doesn't matter, and that’s different anyway."

Aerin nodded.  "Different, yes, but this might even be worse… because it’s insidious, sneaking into your mind.” Then he spoke in oratory fashion, quoting his father, “When convictions are strong and many people believe, a weak mind can be swayed if you’re not careful.”

Dono looked puzzled at Aerin’s strange tone, “Who said that?”

“My father, he was a scholar,” Aerin stated softly.

Dono nodded as if his profession gave his words weight.

Aerin added, “Let's just keep our hearts, as well as our minds, focused when we go in there.  We don't want to suddenly start buying into what they are selling."

Lor smirked, "If Aerin here starts preaching at us we just smack him upside of the head and knock some sense back into him."

Darel grinned, "I volunteer for the job."

Lor looked back over the wall at the church entrance.  "So when do we go?"

"I can't go tomorrow, but the following day would be all right," Darel explained, his next free day being that far away.

Lor's mouth twisted in mock disgust.  "By then they'll have cleaned up everything."

"Oh sure, right now they've probably left a puddle of blood for all to see in front of the altar itself," Darel responded sarcastically.

Lor glowered at him.  "You afraid or something?"

Darel looked Lor in the eye.  "No, how about you?  If we weren't going in there with you I doubt you'd have the nerve to enter the place."

Lor shrugged.  "That's your opinion."

Aerin waved a hand between them.  "Whoa, we're on the same team here!"

Darel looked a little sheepish.  "Sorry, Lor."

Lor's lips were still pulled tight, but he answered, "Forget it."

Aerin looked over the wall one last time at the church and the blood drained out of his face.  "No…" he whispered.

Dono noticed his face immediately.  "What is it, Aerin?"

"It's... him," he pointed to a rather large man who was just nearing the far right corner of the block.  The man was wearing a large billowing brown cloak, though the hood was thrown down and his short-cropped bristly hair could plainly be seen.

The other three boys just caught a short look at his back before he rounded the corner out of sight.

"Who is he?" Lor asked.

"That's the man who led the attack; he ordered the death of my parents," Aerin whispered, anger and loss battling within his heart.

"Quick, we'll follow him!" Lor said, scrambling back from the wall so he could stand without being seen.  Dono and Darel followed, but Aerin was still a little glassy eyed.

"Aerin!" Lor hissed, and having gotten his attention he said, "Don't you want to catch that bastard?"

Aerin's eyes hardened.  "Yes!"

"Good, then get off your hairy butt, and FOLLOW ME!"  Lor growled and then turned to run for the far edge of the roof headed toward the end of the block where the man had gone.

Aerin scrambled up and ran after the others.

They quickly came to a fifteen-foot gap between two buildings over a thin street below.  Lor stopped six yards back and grabbed Aerin and Darel's arms.  "Are you two up to this jump?"

The landing on the far side was a thin foot wide ledge and then a steep slope upwards to a tall peaked roof.

"Do it," Aerin said. Now that he had made up his mind he did not want to lose track of the murderer.

Lor took a moment longer to look into Aerin's eyes.  "Jump as if there was only a foot drop and you were landing on something you didn't want to break, absorb the impact by bending your knees... got it?"

Only when Aerin's eyes cleared and he nodded his assent did Lor turn and run for the wide opening.  "Watch," he called as he leaped lithely across the gap.  He exaggerated the bending of the knees as he landed, taking out the impact and stopping him short.

"Ok, just like that," he called back.

Dono followed and landed easily beside Lor. Then Aerin leaped, and he landed a little hard, but with Dono and Lor steadying his arms he was ok.

Darel swallowed hard and then ran and jumped.  He sailed too far and hit the steep roof.  His feet scrambled for purchase and only Aerin and Lor grabbing him kept him from falling.

"Thanks," he said under his breath once he had regained his footing.

"Don't mention it," Lor answered and was off down the edge of the roof.  "This should put us ahead of him; he will be coming up that street and there's no other exit from this direction!"

They reached the corner of the building and had their first look at the new street where their quarry should have been walking, but no one was in sight.

Lor crossed his arms and glared at the empty street as if it was the pavement’s fault that they had lost the man.  "He must have gone into one of the buildings.  We'll have to watch and see if he comes out."

They sat and watched the street for some time, but after two hours had passed, Aerin told them he had to go.

Darel nodded and added, "I, too, must be going soon."

Lor looked at Dono and asked, "Can you stay?  I have an… appointment, which I cannot miss."

Dono looked surprised as he replied, "An appointment?"

Lor's eyes looked away and he said, "It's nothing, I'll stay if you can't, but I think that Aerin would appreciate it if one of us spotted this murderer and discovered his business."

Dono shrugged.  "I have nowhere to go, so I can stay until dark, but then I must go as well."

Aerin looked at the other three boys.  "Thank you, my friends, this is not your fight, but you were trying to help me anyway."

Lor patted Aerin on the back.  "I've found life to have become much more interesting since I met you, Aerin, and I hate being bored, so I guess I'll just have to keep you around."

"All right then," Darel exclaimed after a moment, "we meet at the same time and place two days from now, agreed?"

They all nodded and then Lor led Darel and Aerin back to the area near the Inn, where he bid them goodbye.

Aerin just made it back by dinnertime and Mara noted his arrival at the Inn.  "Aerin, come over here."

After a last wave, Darel quickly faded into the crowd and Aerin headed for the waiting Mara.  He noted from her expression that she did not seem angry; she was watching the departing Darel.  Soon enough her old lined face turned to face Aerin and her piercing gaze studied him.

"You've been gone again for quite some time," she noted.

Aerin glanced toward Tocor, who stood nearby watching the exchange.  "I told Tocor where I was going."

"I know; I always know more than you think, just remember that.  If you recall my rules you need to be in by dark, even if you did tell Tocor you were playing with your friends.  This city is no place for a green young boy to be wandering at night.  Things you don't want to meet might be around some dark corner.  Besides, Strakhelm is an old city; it's had plenty of time to build its power."

Mara's speech puzzled Aerin, but he just nodded, even though he didn't understand her implication that the city was alive or something.

"Good, now tell me about your friend."

"Which one?" Aerin asked.

Mara took him by the ear and shook his head, though she was fairly gentle this time.  "You know quite well I meant the one who just left."

Aerin rubbed at his ear when she let loose.  "His name is Darel. I don't know much more about him, though I think he is from a wealthy family. He told me his teachers had two Guardsmen watching over him."

"I know all that, did he tell you his last name, or where he lives?" Mara asked impatiently.

"No, that's all I know.  Did he do something wrong?  Because if he did it's probably my fault and you should just punish me," Aerin said bravely, trying to protect his new friend.

Mara surprised him when his words brought a genuine smile to her face.  "Oh ho, he already has you willing to protect him; he makes friends fast.  No, he has not done anything wrong.  In fact, Aerin, you may have helped me greatly.  We'll know soon enough anyway, Yearl will tell me what I want to know later."

"Yearl?" Aerin asked. He quickly looked around to see if Yearl would appear out of the shadows again at the sound of his name.

Mara's far away gaze returned to Aerin abruptly.  "Enough, let's get you some dinner; since you skipped lunch you must be starving.  A boy like you needs to eat if you are going to be strong enough to fight the Togroths!"

"Togroths!" Aerin said, but he was on the move as Mara's old but surprisingly strong grip on his upper arm gave him little choice.

"That's what you told me this morning, you said you wanted to be a great fighter," and here she paused and her voice sounded a little exasperated, "like Ragol.  If you're going to be a warrior you have to eat, boy!"

Now that food had been mentioned Aerin's stomach began to growl, making truly horrendous sounds.

Tocor was following them and laughed at the sounds coming from the young boy.  "His stomach knows what it wants, that’s obvious enough, if only his brain would listen."

Once a filling meal of lamb, carrots, and potato stew had been eaten, Mara pointed to the stairs of the common room that led to the bedrooms above.  Aerin took the hint and stood up ready to go to bed.  The Quarian had his hood up but the light from the fireplace reflected off the gold highlights of his eyes within the shadows.  His low voice emerged, "Safe rest, Aerin."

Aerin answered, "Thank you, Tocor."

"And may your dreams lead to your desires," Yearl's voice added.

Aerin blinked. Yearl was sitting only two seats away from where Aerin had been eating and yet he had not seen him the entire meal.

The common room wasn't dark, but there were shadows and a thick layer of smoke, Aerin decided he had just missed the quiet man. He noted that Yearl was wearing his long cloak with the hood up, his face and lavender skin hidden in the hood's shadows.

"And I thank you was well, Yearl.  Good night all," Aerin replied and headed for the stairs.

Tocor, Yearl, and Mara remained speaking in low voices that no one else could hear.

Aerin reached the top of the stairs and found Dono waiting in the hallway.  The red head’s wide eyes showed fear.

"Dono, what are you doing here?  Did you see that man?" Aerin asked in an excited voice.

Dono looked beyond Aerin nervously, but no one else was in the hall.  "No, I waited but he never came out.  That's not what I'm worried about, it's Lor."

Aerin grabbed the obviously scared Dono by the arm.  "What's happened?"

"It's what Darel said..."

Aerin nodded his encouragement.

With another look over Aerin's shoulder at the empty hallway, Dono continued.  "Darel said Lor wouldn't go in without the rest of you, he shouldn't say that kinda thing to Lor.  He will take that as a challenge, and Lor never refuses a challenge."

"Are you saying Lor is going into the Church tonight, alone?" Aerin demanded.

"No, he already went in.  I moved to another building with a better view of the street after you left and stayed till after dark.  Lor showed up on the street, and I think he checked to see if I was still where he'd left me before, and then he went on in.  I waited about an hour but he didn't come out.  What are we gonna do?  I'm scared, THEY might have him."

"Calm down," Aerin suggested, letting loose of Dono and pacing in the hallway.  "Remember, it could just be a church, we don't even know who ‘they’ are.  He might just be talking to a priest or something."

"I have this bad feeling," Dono said, a tremble in his voice.

"All right, wait for me out by the gate, I'll be there soon."

Dono nodded and headed for the door, he looked a little calmer as he quickly slipped out of the Inn.

Aerin went to their room and got out his sweater, but then he realized he was about to break his promise to Mara.  He stared out the window overlooking the Inn's courtyard while pondering what he should do.

The door opened behind him and Aerin turned to find Mara.

"What's wrong, Aerin?” she asked him, puzzled.

"I have something to ask you about if you have a minute."

Mara shrugged.  "I have time for you, Aerin, don't worry."

"Well it's not really about me, it's a question one of my new friends asked me and I didn't know the answer."

Mara gave him a half smile of encouragement so he continued.

"You have talked to me about friendships, so I thought you might know the answer to this question.  My friend, ah... Dono, asked me this… if you made a promise to a friend and afterward make a separate promise to another friend, and then later you find out that due to something you had no control over you cannot keep both promises, what should you do?"

Mara considered him a moment with her deep-set eyes seeming to look into his very soul.  "Well, would one of these friends be in great need?"

Aerin nodded.

"And the other promise, is it of equal need?"

This time, Aerin replied, "No."

Mara shrugged.  "Then it's easy, you keep the promise to the friend in the greater need."

Aerin looked nervously at his feet.  "But what if the other friend doesn't understand the reason you're breaking a promise?"

"If they are truly your friend, and you broke the promise for a noble cause to another friend, they will understand.  If not then they really aren't your friend."

Aerin nodded.  "Thank you, Mara, that helps... I'll tell Dono tomorrow.  Well, thanks and… ah, good night."

Mara moved slowly toward the door.  "I need to speak with Yearl about something; I'll be back in a few minutes."  At the door, she turned and paused with the door open and spoke again.  "Aerin, you tell your friend to be very careful,” and here her voice took on a hard edge.  "Good friends don't get their friends killed."

Aerin gulped.  "I will, Mara."

She nodded, "Be safe, Aerin."  Then she closed the door behind her.

Aerin immediately went and got a piece of paper from Mara's bag, and then sat with a quill at the table. After dipping the pen in the ink and thinking for a moment he penned a quick note, which read:

Dear Mara,

I think you are my friend, but as I made a promise to another friend and he is in need, I must break my promise to you.  Please don't send me to an orphanage, but whatever awaits me on my return, I must go now.  Please forgive me.

Your friend, Aerin

He left the note on the bed and then pulled his only sweater on over his head.  After checking the hallway, through the barely cracked open door, Aerin made his way to the end of the hall and the exterior stairway.

Once he had passed through the door Mara walked into the hallway from the opposite way and went straight to the room.  She read the note swiftly and a small smile played across her lips as Aerin quoted some of her own words back to her.  She moved to the window and made a quick gesture toward the gate with her forefinger.

Aerin did not go around to the front of the Inn but instead used a small tree to climb up to the wall and jump down into the street to where Dono was impatiently waiting.  The two boys retraced their path, Aerin following Dono. The route to the church was somewhat difficult; things looked different in the darkness, so it was good that Dono was there to lead Aerin.

One thing helped, Aerin didn't fear the long drops as much since the darkness made it hard to see the street below, yet he had to watch the placement of his feet more carefully.  He kept his mind on Lor, the way his friend had moved, trying his best to learn from the expert.  They soon arrived at the Church.  Torches were attached to the outside of the large doors casting shifting shapes on the stone flooring.  The strange triangle symbol in the stonework seemed to twist and bend as the shadows and light moved across.

Dono went over to the edge and gazed down on the entrance to the church.

"Anything?" Aerin asked, crouching down beside Dono.

"No."

Aerin looked over the large structure of the church and felt a shiver of fear; the many carved faces in the stonework seemed much more sinister and alive than they had in the light of day.  "Maybe Lor already left while we were gone?"

"Maybe, but my heart tells me he’s still in there.  What should we do?  It's been a long time now since he went in."

Aerin considered.  "If he was coming out I think he would have already.  We can go to the city Guardsmen and tell them our friend went in and hasn't come out, but I don't know how seriously they'll take us since we're just kids.  We could tell them about the dead man," Aerin finished, his voice lower at the end.

"No, I don't want to go to the Guards!"

"Then I don't see any other choice besides going in ourselves," Aerin said with a sigh.

"All right, are we going to stick with that story about being interested in joining?"  Dono asked.

Aerin considered for a moment and then answered: "I don't think so; we'd best just try to slip in unnoticed at this point and see what we can see.  Lor probably gave them that story and he's still in there."

Dono was shaking slightly.  "What if..."

"Shut up, don’t even think that!  He's fine, I'm sure of it, we'll find him."

"All right, let's get this over with before I wise up and run away," Dono decided.

They made their way to a place a few blocks away where they could get down to the street level and approach the Church.  When they reached a dark corner near the church entrance Dono put a hand to stop Aerin and whispered, “Take off your shoes, they will echo too much on the stone if we need to hide or sneak around.”

Aerin nodded and they both hid their shoes in the shadows of the rough stone corner.

Glancing upwards, Aerin noted that the church seemed much larger when approached from street level; there were ten stairs up to the landing before the large double doors.  The boys waited until no one was on the street and then quickly slipped from the shadow of a doorway and crept up the side of the stairs along the edge of the church.  At the top landing, Aerin instinctively avoided walking on the dark brown stone mark of the triangle and dot.

From inside the church, the sounds of a low mumbling hypnotic rhythm leaked out to disturb the still night.  Flickering torchlight lit the wide hallway that beckoned them further into its throat.  The hall widened out as it progressed and the backs of hooded men could be seen sitting in pews.   A large statue stood at the far end of the inner sanctuary and faced the throng, it depicted a man who stood with uplifted arms and he looked down upon the mortals below with a cold gaze.

As they entered the church Aerin felt a wave of awe and reverence for the deity depicted by the statue.  He tried to shake off the feeling because he suspected it was the power of the believers, not the actual deity.

Dono pulled Aerin's arm and pointed silently to a smaller door off the main hall.  Aerin nodded and they scampered across the stone floor and tried the door, but it was locked.  Aerin started to move away, but Dono's hand disappeared into his sleeve and emerged with a stout piece of bent baling wire.  He inserted it into the lock and began feeling around.  Aerin watched the hall and fortunately no one seemed to be coming.  The scraping of the wire in the metal lock seemed overly loud to Aerin and he was sure someone in the main hall would notice, yet the mumbling continued unabated.

There was a particularly loud ‘clack’ as the lock turned.  Dono quickly opened the door and Aerin followed him inside.  They closed the door as quietly as possible.

"Where do you think this goes?"  Aerin whispered.

"I don't know, I don't usually hang around in churches," Dono whispered back.

Suddenly approaching footsteps could faintly be heard echoing dulling in the stone hallway.  Frantically the boys looked for somewhere to hide.  There was a low table along one side of the hallway with a white and red tablecloth draped almost to the ground.  Dono flung the cloth open and the two small boys got under quickly.  Without a moment to spare they let the cloth drop back down into place.  Unable to see, the boys heard the footsteps get louder as the two churchmen rounded the corner.  They were speaking as they went past.

"What Malachai says is true; we must keep the faith strong!  Unbelievers have no rights under the eyes of Mumand."

"Aye brother, Malachai speaks with Mumand's voice."

They continued passed and were soon gone.

Aerin slipped out and Dono reluctantly followed.

Dono looked at the corridor ahead.  "What now?” he whispered.

Aerin shrugged and pointed the opposite direction of the departed churchmen.  Dono nodded and they headed that way.

A few turns later they heard voices coming from behind a doorway.  Aerin tugged on his ear to signal they should listen at the door.  He could almost hear the mental sigh of resignation as Dono accepted the idea.  They both crept up and placed their ears against the coarse wood.  Aerin smelled a waft of men’s cheap cologne as he pressed up against the door.

"...should be disposed of, and quickly," a male voice exclaimed passionately.

A second voice, this one of smooth silk, answered calmly.  "No... I have uses for a fresh young one like this... the rascal must be taken to a place of preparing and converted."

"As you wish Sar Malachai, I will attend to that immediately.”

"Bide a moment, brother Gallow.  Do either of you have any questions?"

Dono waved frantically for Aerin to remove his ear and get away, but Aerin kept his ear to the wood and held up his hand in a 'wait' gesture.

The third man's voice spoke for the first time and he seemed very excited: "What of our holy mission tonight?  Must we postpone in light of this intrusion?"

"No, it was just a curious child. It changes nothing, all is in our control.  It would take us a month or more to achieve a time when all parts would come together so perfectly once again.  No, we go forward as scheduled.  Bring your Saintly brothers to the Roan chamber; there they shall receive Mumand’s final instructions.  I want no mistakes; the Trelic heir must be removed tonight."

"It is Mumand's will," the excitable voice agreed.

"Indeed, remind the faithful to move swiftly once the gates are open; we must rely on surprise to achieve our goal. Once the Guardsmen are reinforced we will have little time to complete our mission."

The excited churchman responded with righteous indignation, "We are guided by Mumand's hand, they cannot stand before us!"

"May Mumand guide you all," the silky voice intoned, "Remember when the watch calls three be prepare to move swiftly and silently.  The gates will open before the echoes of his voice die."

"But who is to open the gates?” the excited man asked.

"We have faithful men in the guise of Guardsman; they will open the gates at the proper time.  Brother Gallow, it is time for you to go down and brief the creatures that Mumand has sent us for this holy mission.  Have them take the child out through the sewers."

Dono's face was nearly purple; he held his hands together in silent supplication for Aerin to move before the churchmen reached the door.  This time, Aerin nodded and crept away quickly with Dono. They just made it around the corner of the hall when the door opened behind them.

Dono's eyes were the size of Kingdom gold pieces and he was looking frantically for a place to hide, but this stretch of the corridor was completely empty.  Aerin stood near the edge of the hallway and listened.  Luck was with them, they heard the footsteps of the two men retreating down the hall away from their position.

Dono's breath released in a rush as they heard the footsteps growing quieter.

"You nearly got us caught!” he hissed.

Aerin put a finger to his lips for silence and then slipped around the corner of the hall after the departing churchmen.

Dono reluctantly followed.   They tiptoed past the closed door where they had listened to the silky voice of Malachai and then hurried to catch up to the men ahead of them.

The men came to an opening on their right and one of them proceeded down the spiraling stairwell while the other continued ahead in the corridor.  After a moment of indecision, the two boys crept down the torch lit stairs after the one who had descended deeper into the bowels of the church.

As they descended the stairs Dono felt the freedom of Strakhelm's streets growing more distant and the stone of Mumand's grip growing tighter.  He thought he heard something behind them, but the young red head didn’t see anything when he looked back over his shoulder.

Aerin stopped to peek around the corner at the priest who currently stood at a rusty iron-bound door.  Because Dono was still looking backward he ran into Aerin.  The only thing that saved them from discovery was the fact that the man was rattling a large key ring at the time and it masked the softer sound of the boy's collision.

Aerin gave the sheepish Dono a wide-eyed look of silent reproach but then returned to peeking around the corner at the churchman.  The man finally found the key he desired and twisted it in the large lock mechanism. The grinding tumblers protested movement but gave up to his superior strength.

He pulled open the resisting door, and almost instantly a strong stench wafted into the hall.  Aerin instantly recognized the smell of rotting garbage and human waste; the unmistakable smell of the sewers.

Then a deep guttural voice came echoing out of the sewer's darkness. Involuntary fear and horror iced the blood in Aerin's veins as the horrible memory of his parent's deaths returned. He had heard the unmistakable sound of a Togroth's ugly inhuman speech.

"Agoktalek, cator umog?"

The churchman spoke disdainfully, “I only speak in Mumand's chosen language, and you will do the same."

The deep guttural voice echoed out of the darkness as it answered, and its words were thickly accented.  "You have orders make from Malachai?"

"Malachai has ordained that you shall deliver a human child we have captured to the Wastelands after tonight's mission is accomplished, do you understand?"

"Argoth," the voice agreed.

"The child can be found in the cell on the left, if you follow this hallway that direction," he pointed past where Aerin and Dono's hallway connected, to where the main hall made a turn.

Aerin looked at the bend in the hallway noting that it was only a few yards away if they could get to that turn they would only be in sight for a moment.  The open door blocked most of the churchman's view.  Aerin waited for a moment until the man's face turned away slightly and then he ran lightly across the hall and hugged the wall until he was around the corner.  He paused to listen, but luck was still with him, he heard the churchman discussing the final details of the plan with the Togroths.

"Wait under the sewer grate at the corner of Sentinel Street, stay there until we open the grating.  As soon as you are within the courtyard of the Seat you must enter the barracks and kill all the Guards in their beds.  Should some survive and manage to fight, hold them for a time before falling back into the sewers to make your escape.  At no time are you to kill anyone wearing one of these patches, is this understood?"

There was a grunt of understanding from out of the dark doorway.

Dono and Aerin saw the churchman holding up a red triangular patch.  Aerin caught Dono’s attention, and motioned for him to come across, but Dono shook his head negatively.  Aerin pantomimed a finger across his throat and then pointed down the hall toward where he figured Lor was being kept.

Dono understood and with a heavy sigh he checked the churchman’s position, before running across as Aerin had done.  As soon as he arrived Aerin ran down the hallway as quietly as possible, with Dono following behind.  Their bare skin hardly made a whisper as the light boys ran on the balls of their feet.

"What WERE those things in the sewer?" Dono whispered when they had rounded the second bend.

"Togroths," Aerin stated simply.

"Togroths!" Dono exclaimed, his body shaking slightly in fear.  "They couldn't be, there aren't any Togroths in the Seat, there just AREN’T!"

"I watched Togroths kill my parents, and heard them speak. Have you ever heard a voice like that from a man?" Aerin asked.

Dono shook his head, still shaking in fear.

They passed doors, but all of them were open, except one on their left.

The boys stopped and Aerin tried the handle only to find it locked.  "Lor?” he called softly.

"Who is THAT?" Lor's voice answered from inside.

"Dono and I are here to get you out!"  Aerin answered in a whisper with his face pushed up near the crack of the door so his voice wouldn't carry down the hallway.

"Hurry, before that priest Malachai returns! He's as slimy a thing as I ever want to meet.  Get me out of here!"

"How?" Aerin asked.

His voice sounded slightly exasperated as Lor replied, "You're the rescuers, rescue me!  Ask Dono if he has his wire with him! Gedin, do I have to do everything?  I don't have my stuff, they stripped me bare."

Dono had his wire out in a moment and was working on the lock.

Aerin glanced up the hall, but he didn't hear anything approaching yet.  "Hurry," he said unnecessarily to Dono.

That earned him a brief look of disgust from where Dono knelt in front of the door.  He paused to take a deep breath and calmed his shaking fingers, then started working the lock.

"Speaking of clothes," Lor's muffled voice said, "I'll need something. Throw me in a cloak or something; I'm completely naked... and DON'T look!"  Lor exclaimed passionately.

In the fear of being killed by horrible Togroth monsters, Lor's sudden modesty was almost humorous to Aerin.  "You're kidding right?"

"NO, I mean it, toss the cloak in without looking," Lor replied.

"We're about to be eaten by Togroths and you want PRIVACY?"

Lor hesitated, and then said, "Just do it, OK?"

Dono whispered to Aerin so that his voice didn't carry through the door to Lor.  "He's got a mark on his chest, a brand..." he added, trailing off.

"Brand?" Aerin asked.

"Taint never seen it, he don't like nobody to see it, but you know what it must be... there's only one brand he could have."

Aerin remained silent while considering what it might mean to have been branded a thief before the age of twelve... and he shuddered.

Dono got the lock to open, but before opening the door he quickly pulled his knee-length tunic over his head.  He nodded to Aerin who cracked open the door so that Dono could toss his tunic into the cell.

Lor's hand shot out from the side scooping up the tunic and a moment later he was out the door and into the hallway with them.

"What was that about Togroths?” he asked, and his face was flushed red.

"Togroths are going to be coming down that hallway in the next few minutes to take you out of this cell," Aerin explained.

Lor's eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets, and for the first time since Aerin had met him, the rascally boy was speechless.

Dono headed further down the hallway and motioned for the others to follow.  "Let's go this way, at least we won't run into those horrid things."

Aerin and Lor didn't waste words and followed.  The hallway turned to the right again after a short way and then went a distance past two doors to another right turn.

After that turn, the boys came to a third right turn. They peeked around the hallway and found themselves looking at the hallway where the sewer door stood open, but this time, they were on the far side where they would have to pass the opening to reach the stairway going up.  They had traveled in a large rectangle and had come back around to the start.

"Do we go?" Aerin asked after telling Lor that the Togroths had been in that sewer opening a few minutes ago.

"They must have gone to fetch me from my cell, which means they'll soon discover it's empty... we better make a run for it," Lor suggested.

The other two boys nodded and they all ran down the hall together.   They darted past the opening to the sewer, without mishap, and rounded the corner of the hall that led to the stairs, only to run smack into the churchman who had opened the sewer.

"In Mumand's name, I command you to stop!” the churchman demanded, but when the boys started backing away from him the priest yelled out, "I have the child!  And there are two more of them loose in the fold, help brethren!” Then he pulled out a curved knife from beneath his robes.

To the boy's further shock a man suddenly brushed past them from behind and confronted the knife-wielding churchman.  Aerin was amazed to see that it was Yearl.  The thin lavender-skinned man reached over his shoulder to the quiver that was habitually tied there and pulled out two one inch thick, three foot long, round sticks of hardwood.  He held one before him, almost like a sword, with the other held low and to the side. Yearl approached the knife-brandishing churchman and spoke softly, “Leave them be, these boys only wish to depart these premises."

"Sacrilege!” the man screamed in intense rage.

His face turned so beet red that Aerin thought his head would simply explode.

"A Wiggen has befouled the holy ground of Mumand!  Die foul creature!"   The man leaped forward stabbing for Yearl's throat with the wicked looking knife.

In a movement that seemed to blur his shape, Yearl moved.  There were three almost simultaneous thumping sounds.   The attacking churchman staggered forward and his knife flew tumbling down the hall.  His unconscious body fell heavily to the stones.

"Sleep on Mumand's bed," Yearl advised the still body sarcastically, "Quick," he said, turning to the three startled boys, "up the stairs and out.  Though it might please me, I have no time to beat this entire enclave of fanatics unconscious!"

Aerin saw Lor and Dono staring at the sticks that had seemed almost invisible in their movement a moment before.

"He's a friend of mine, do what he says!" Aerin said.

"But he is a Willowman!" Dono exclaimed, with loathing.

"Do you want to die?" Aerin noted, with a raise of his eyebrow.

Lor needed no further prodding and dashed past Yearl heading up the circular staircase; Dono and Aerin followed hard on his heels.

They reached the top of the landing and found a group of four acolytes, led by a priest, coming toward them.  Aerin smelled the same cheap cologne he had smelled when they eavesdropped at the door.  The priest took one look and spoke in that voice of silk Aerin had heard through the doorway earlier.  "They are defiling the temple, kill them all."

Then Yearl was there again.  He stepped forward almost casually and faced the four oncoming acolytes who were now brandishing their curved knives.  "Attacking children?" Yearl inquired.

Malachai spoke in a strange ritual voice, "He is unclean.  You cannot allow a Willowman to live, so sayeth Mumand."

The four Acolytes’ faces turned to masks of pure hatred and they attacked as berserkers, showing no regard for their own safety.

Lor didn't wait to see what was about to happen, he yelled at the other two boys, “Come on, follow me!" and then dashed down a side hall.

Malachai noted the three boys darting away, and seeing his four acolytes against the one Willowman, he decided to take care of the children himself.  The priest took another hallway that led the same direction as the one that Lor had taken.

Lor slid to a halt at the end of the hall in brief indecision on whether to turn left or right, but the choice was made for him when the priest appeared a little ways down to their left and then started coming toward them swiftly; they ran to the right.

The air wavered before them and a black shape rose up out of the floor, coming through the very stone.  It wore a black hood and intense blue glowing eyes could be seen within the darkness.

Grabbing each other in an attempt to stop their forward flight, the boys scrambled to a halt; the apparition was hovering in the air before them.

"The priest is coming!" Aerin yelled, having seen the white skinned man bearing down swiftly from the rear.

Lor grabbed a torch off the wall and threw it at the hovering apparition.  The torch passed through the blackness and landed on the ground beyond.

"It's not really there!" Lor yelled and then dove forward going right through the hovering creature.  As he passed through he felt a blast of pure hatred for all living things, including his own friends.  Something congealed in his chest as if his soul was freezing over, but as horrible as it felt it was instantly over and he was on the ground beyond the apparition.

"Come on!” he yelled to the others.

Aerin gulped and dove through as well, and then Dono followed.

The ghostly being turned and followed them, but having felt its touch once the boys needed little urging to get them running.

They made a few more random turns and found themselves back where they had started; the four acolytes Yearl had faced were now unconscious on the floor.  From ahead they saw a new pack of churchmen coming through a door into the hallway.  They turned and found Malachai approaching from the other direction.  With no other choice, they went back down the circular stairs toward the cells and the Togroths below.

"What if the Togroths are coming up?" Dono reminded them fearfully.

"Don't say that," Aerin exclaimed since he had no other answer.

They reached the hallway at the bottom and moved to the corner carefully.  "We're trapped, you know," Dono noted, "there are priests coming down after us, there are Togroths down here in these halls looking for us, and there is no way out."

"No, we can take the sewers," Lor exclaimed.

Dono looked at him as though he had just turned into a girl.  "Are you crazy?  That's where the Togroths came from!"

"Would you rather get killed here?  Or have a chance to lose them in the sewers?" Lor asked with unassailable logic.

They all moved toward the sewer door.

Aerin once again caught the smell of cheap cologne and knew they were in trouble.  The silky voice of Malachai spoke from behind.

“There is no need to run, my children."

The boys spun around and found the pale skinned priest standing at the corner of the hallway behind them.

"That's the creep who grabbed me earlier!" Lor whispered in disgust.

Malachai spoke calmly, "If you run your companions will stab you in the back."

Dono spun to face Lor, and the two friends faced off with a snarl of mutual hatred.  Aerin backed away from them both, also showing the sudden and unnatural hatred for his friends.

Malachai smiled and Aerin hated him as well.  Turning quickly, Aerin dove past Dono and rolled into the open door leading into the sewers.

Malachai was slowly walking forward; his voice was still silky smooth.  "The winner can join me and live forever."

As Aerin's body rolled onto the damp stair that led into the darkness of the sewer the abnormal hatred for his friends evaporated as if it had never been.  He scrambled to his feet just in time to see Lor sidestep a thrust from Dono's blade.  His friend's face was twisted in hatred.  Aerin reached out of the doorway and grabbed Dono's arm to stop his next attack on Lor.  As his hand touched Dono's arm, the boy's face changed to a look of horror.

"What was I doing?” he exclaimed, staring at the knife in his hand.

Aerin didn't know what was happening, but he knew his touch on Dono's arm had set his mind free.

Lor saw his opening and locked his hands around Dono's throat, and instantly the hatred fled and his mind returned to normal.

"Don't let loose!"  Aerin yelled and hauled on Dono's arm, pulling him into the sewer.  Lor held onto Dono and the three connected friends landed in a pile.

Malachai was only ten feet away now, and he was coming fast.

The boys tumbled down the stairs into the darkness.  They landed with a splash into a two-foot-deep stream of sewage water.  Above them, the silhouette of Malachai stopped in the doorway. "We will meet another time then, children."  He said as though nothing was wrong, and then turned and called loudly, "Tagak, gethrunk utoblen!" fluidly in the Togroth barking language.  A faint barking answer showed the Togroths had heard.

Dono leaped to his feet, splashing fetid water everywhere.  "Run for it, the Togroths are coming for us!” he exclaimed.

The boys all splashed their way down the dark tunnel in full flight.  The floor suddenly sloped down and the slimy footing caused them to slip and fall, sliding down a long chute with the water toward a drop-off below.

Aerin yelled when he went over the falls, getting a mouthful of the foul tasting sewer water for his trouble.  The water was deeper here and he had to swim to keep his head up.  He thought he saw one of the other boys ahead, but could not be sure. He began making for the side.  Eventually, he found a place where he could get up onto a ledge that followed the coursing water.  He ran ahead and found Dono holding onto the side, after quickly helping him up, they both ran forward and found Lor already out and heading back their way. His bare white legs stood out in the darkness below the thigh length tunic.

The sewer was lit by a green glow of phosphorescent moss, though it was only as bright as a half moon's light in the tunnel, still they could see well enough to navigate.

In the distance they heard the barks of the Togs, so they quickly ran until they found an access ladder that led to the streets of Strakhelm above.

Aerin had never been so glad to see the stars in the dark sky above.

"What, in Gedin's name, happened in there?"  Dono demanded.

Lor answered him, "He hexed us somehow!"

"It doesn't matter right now how he did it, we've got to get to the Guardsmen!"  Aerin exclaimed.

A passing mill worker on his way home looked curiously at the wet boys emerging from the sewer, but he knew enough of Strakhelm not to become involved in something he didn't understand.  He kept a tight rein on his emotions and moved on.

Glancing at the retreating back of the mill worker Lor kept his voice low.  "And tell them what?  Tell them that the priests grabbed me for no good reason when they caught me snooping around?  Or tell them that they suddenly made me hate my friends?  Even if by some chance they take us seriously, by the time they get to that church the bodies will be gone and the Togroths will have disappeared into the sewers. They'll think we are just children with overactive imaginations.  It won’t work."

"They're going to kill the Warlord's son, tonight!" Aerin blurted out.

"What!" Lor exclaimed with his chin trembling from being wet in the cold night.

"I heard that priest tell the other one about the traitors they have inside, who are going to open the gates to the Seat and let in those Togroths and some of the cult members.  They’ll kill the Guardsmen in their sleep and then go murder Gandarel Trelic, the heir to the Seat of Stone," Aerin explained quickly.

"I cannot help you, Aerin, I will not go to the Guardsmen," Lor exclaimed. “Besides, Togroths will never get into the Seat of Stone! It’s a fortress in the heart of this city manned by hundreds of Guardsmen. The Guardsmen will chew them to pieces if they try."

"When I heard you were in trouble I came without question.  Now I'm asking for your help Lor.  I cannot go to the Guardsmen, the priests have false Guardsmen in uniform and I don't know which ones are the traitors.  We will have to reach someone in authority, like the Guard Captain, or Gandarel Trelic.  Lor, please, I can't get in without your knowledge of the city! I'm asking you as my friend."

Lor looked away, but after a moment, he looked back and nodded.  "If you ask like that, what am I to say?  What do you want us to do?"

"Dono, you go to the Inn and find the woman named Mara in room three, and tell her of our plight.  Tell her everything!  She is really wise and maybe she will know what to do.  In the meantime, Lor and I will go to the Seat to try and find someone who will listen."

From far off in the distance a bell rang twice and then a voice faintly called out the hour, it was echoed louder from another voice nearer to the boys.

"The watch calls two!” they heard faintly.  From somewhere further it was repeated, as the hourly proclamation of time circulated through the city.

"It's two bells; we have only one hour until the attack begins.  How fast can we get to the Seat?"  Aerin asked.

Lor appraised him a moment.  "Fifteen minutes, but I must detour and get shoes and clothes; I cannot travel the High Road barefoot."

"How long will it take you?"  Aerin prompted.

"We'll be outside the wall in twenty minutes," Lor decided.

"All right, go, I’ll stay here until you return. Dono, you and I need to retrieve our shoes. We will have to sneak back to where we left them near the church entrance.”

Dono nodded resignedly and the two boys headed down the street with Dono in the lead.  Lor took off in another direction, at a swift run.

There was no commotion to show anything had been amiss when they reached the street where they had left their shoes.  After sneaking along the side of the street to where their shoes were, Dono and Aerin quickly put them back on.

“Go, Dono, tell Mara what we know!" Aerin urged, and Dono took off at a run.

Aerin returned to meet Lor and lost a year's growth when Lor dropped out of the darkness next to him in the alley.  The street boy was wearing old clothes, mostly too small for him, but at least he had a well-worn pair of shoes.

"Come on, be careful and follow me exactly," Lor cautioned, climbing up the side of the building.

Aerin swallowed hard, but he followed the agile Lor up the rough blocks of the stone wall.  They seemed to climb forever, but eventually, they reached the rooftops.

"This way, come," Lor said, running across the rooftops toward the distant structure of the Seat of Stone.

Aerin followed as best he could, and Lor kept giving advice on how to move as they went.

When they reached the outer walls of the Seat, Lor stopped and crouched on the rooftop of the building across from the legendary fortress.

"How much time do you think we still have?" Aerin asked, out of breath from their run.

Lor estimated a moment.  "I think it must be passed the half, we took longer than I anticipated getting here."

He didn't add that it was because Aerin had slowed him; he didn't need to since they both knew it.

"The guards at the gate are likely the traitors since they are to open the gates for the invaders.  I guess that means we will have to sneak inside somehow," Aerin reasoned.

Lor’s voice was calm as he said, "You know that it is the death penalty to enter the Seat of Stone without leave?"

Aerin looked stricken.  "Death?"

"Yes, and they mean it.  You still want to do this?"

Aerin swallowed hard.  "Yes, I will not allow these horrid creatures to kill anyone else when I can put a stop to it."

Lor smiled.  "Just checking; fine then, we go over the wall… there!” he exclaimed, pointing to a place two buildings down the street.

"How?" Aerin asked.

"It's easier to show you, but just remember who wanted to go in," Lor exclaimed as he ran off toward the indicated building roof.

They reached the roof and Lor went to the tall flagpole that was mounted in the center.  "Give me a hand here; we need to lift this pole from the holder."

Both boys grasped the four-inch diameter pole and lifted for all they were worth, slowly they got it up until the bottom cleared the holder, but then they lost it.  The pole came falling down and Aerin had to leap clear.

"Somebody inside has to have heard that!" Aerin exclaimed after the pole landed on the rooftop with a loud wooden thump.

Lor shrugged.  "Perhaps; but this is a store, and it is closed until morning, so perhaps we might be lucky."  Lor quickly went to the pole and removed the rope that had run to the pulley at the top. Then he started dragging the pole toward the roof edge,   "Come on, we have to shove the pole across to the wall!"

"What good will that do?  The fortress walls are higher than this building; we'll never lift it that high, even if it would reach!" Aerin complained.

"Stop griping, we don't have to reach the top, trust me," Lor explained.

They started shoving the pole across the intervening gap.  Luckily it wasn't far to the fortress wall, as the city had expanded until buildings had crowded the outer wall of the fortress.  The fortress walls were higher, though, so the pole could not reach the top.

"Aim for that protrusion… no, more to the right!" Lor said pointing.  "Now push!” he added, and they managed to get the end of the pole on the flat piece of block that projected about two inches from the main wall.  The pole was now suspended across the street to the wall and lay on the thin ledge of the projecting stone about fifteen feet below the top of the wall.

Aerin looked at the pole dubiously.  "You don't expect me to swing hand over hand across this, do you?  For one, it would make the pole come loose, and I'd fall to the street, and second, once I'm there I'd be stuck. Other than that one projecting stone I don't see how you could climb up the rest of that smooth wall."

Lor smiled at him, "No, what I expect you to do is hand me that piece of wood right there," he said, pointing at a yard long piece of wood about two inches by two inches thick.  "And now I expect you to get down to the street level and get over near the wall just below the pole."

"I can do that," Aerin agreed, "then what's the plan?"

Lor was pulling off his shoes, which he slipped into pockets on either side of his tunic.  "Then I'll drop this rope to you, tie it on and I'll help you climb up... got it?” he asked, winding the rope around his waist.

"But how..." Aerin started to ask just as Lor stepped up on top of the pole with his bare feet.

Aerin's eyes grew round in surprise.  "Are you NUTS, you can't..."

Lor looked back at him smugly.  "Don't ever tell me what I can't do."  Then he walked out over the drop smoothly moving across the pole while holding his piece of wood horizontal before him for balance.  He moved slowly yet continuously so as not to make the pole bob around and dislodge itself from the precarious place it rested on the fortress wall.

Aerin watched entranced, the pole bent as Lor reached the middle, but held.  If Lor had not been so slim it would surely have bowed too much and fallen from its position on the wall.

Aerin suddenly realized that he was watching Lor when he should be getting down to the street, so he went to the side of the building where a series of ledges allowed him to climb down.  He nearly slipped twice and skinned his ankle once, but he managed to make it to the ground.  As soon as he reached the other side of the street, and looked up to check Lor’s progress, a thin rope fell down beside him, nearly hitting him in the face.

Aerin looked up and could see that the rope came from the very top of the wall, and Lor’s face was looking down at him, his hand giving him a come-hither wave. He gave the rope a strong pull to see if it would hold, and then tied it to his belt and started climbing.  Four times he came to places where there was no way to climb and Lor would manage to pull him up enough so that he could start climbing on his own again.  Lor's hands grabbed him and pulled him between two merlons of the parapets at the top.  Both of them were breathing hard from their exertions and they sat down with their backs to the parapet wall to regain their breath.

"How..." Aerin started to ask, then saw the board caught between two of the parapet towers, the rope tied off in the middle.  "Ah, you threw that up here until it caught, then climbed the rope."

Lor nodded.  "I couldn't have thrown it all the way from the bottom, so the pole got me close enough."

Aerin got to his feet and held out a hand for Lor to grab.  "Come on, it must nearly be three A.M., we have to get to someone."

Lor grabbed hold and Aerin hoisted him to his feet.

A tower bell suddenly rang, much louder this time since the boys were only yards away. It rang out three times and then the voice of a watchman called out the third hour.

"Oh no," Aerin exclaimed, "we're too late!"

"No, call it just in time; come on!"  Lor ran along the top of the wall toward the barracks ahead.

As they neared the center of the wall they could see large dark shapes brandishing weapons pouring into the courtyard below.

There was a watch bell mounted from a crosspiece in the wall near them, the rope trailed down so it could be rung from below.  Lor grabbed it and started the bell swinging and ringing loudly.

Aerin began yelling with his hands cupped around his mouth, “Togroths in the Seat, to arms, to arms!"

Lights flared up within the barracks as lamps were lit, and then the first of the Togroths reached the doors.

Aerin heard the sound of swords meeting swords from within the barracks.

Something flew by Aerin's head, and then another one struck the wall behind them; Aerin saw a short barbed Togroth arrow on the stones.

"They're shooting at us, Lor, run for it!" Aerin yelled. Together they ran down the wall toward an open doorway into the main Keep.  A few arrows struck around them as they ran.

They found themselves in a long hallway that was decorated with tapestries and suits of armor; it was empty at the moment.

"Where to?" Lor asked.

"I don't know, but we should get out of here now that we've given the alarm."

"At last, sanity has returned!  I was starting to wonder about you, my good friend," Lor exclaimed with a grin.  "We need another rope so we can go over the wall and fade into the city."

Lor finished speaking just as a pack of three Togroths pounded up the wide stairway that led to this hallway.  The boys slid to a halt on the smooth floor and the tableau held for a moment. Then with one shared look of panic, the two boys turned and ran back the way they had come.  Lor was soon ahead, slightly outdistancing Aerin.

Human yells and Tog barks came from behind them and the sounds of fighting commenced, loyal Guardsmen had engaged the Togroths.

Ahead of the boys, two Guardsmen came into the hallway with their swords out.  They had come from the wall where the boys had first rung the bell.

"Thank Gedin!"  Lor exclaimed.  "Guardsmen, there are Togroths in the Keep!  We gave the alarm, but they cut off our escape. Be aware that some of the Guardsmen at the gate are traitors..." Lor's voice trailed off with sudden suspicion.

One bearded Guardsman glanced at the other and some communication passed between them.  When his gaze returned to Lor he suddenly raised his sword up across his body and brought it down in a backhanded slash toward Lor's throat.

With a yelp of surprise, Lor dove into a forward somersault that took him under the slash of the sweeping sword; he rolled on one shoulder and bounced to his feet.  He grabbed the polearm off the suit of armor along the wall and heaved it like a spear at the false Guardsman.

Aerin opened one of the side doors and yelled to Lor, "Quickly, in here!"

Lor needed no further urging as he ran for the open door.  The false Guardsman dodged the pole arm and then both men pursued the boys.  Aerin slammed the door in the men's face, and Lor slammed down the crossbeam with a loud, "TH-wack!"

The two scared boys looked around the sealed chamber for an exit, but it held only a table and a chair. There were no windows and the door through which they had entered was the only way in or out.

The door shuddered with a heavy ‘thud’ as the bodies of the two traitorous Guardsmen hit; they were doing their best to break in the door.

"They want us dead! We're the ones who know some of the Guardsmen are traitors!"  Aerin exclaimed as the truth hit him.

"Great, and there's no way out of here," Lor complained. He was standing in the center of the room and spinning around, “and that door isn't going to hold, that crossbeam isn't very thick!"

Aerin spotted a very small opening in the wall and ran over.  "Look it's a dumb waiter! If we can fit..."

"I'll fit," Lor proclaimed, but then he paused.  "You first," he told Aerin bravely.

"No, I'm bigger than you are; I might get stuck so you should go first."

Lor shrugged and backed his rear into the wooden box and then pulled in his legs, head and arms; it was a tight fit.

Aerin pulled the ropes sending Lor down the dark shaft.  He did not go too far before the rope stopped, a moment later the dumb waiter was coming back up, propelled by Lor pulling the ropes from below.

Aerin could hear the wood splintering behind him as the door weakened. The dumbwaiter box arrived and he duplicated Lor's entry into the box. When he had wedged himself into the box as far as possible he yelled down to Lor, "Pull the rope!"

The box started to move, but Aerin's projecting knees struck the edge of the opening, halting the progress.

In the room, he heard the snapping of the wood as the crossbeam broke.

"Pull!” he yelled as best he could and then exhaled to make himself smaller and pulled his knees in with all his strength.

Lor pulled for all he was worth.  Aerin clenched his teeth as he tried not to breathe.  He felt his knees scraping along the walls, but the box started down.  He gasped in a desperate breath as soon as he felt his knees reach the welcome opening of the room below.  Letting his sore knees unbend was heaven.

"Gedin's breath, you had me worried!" Lor exclaimed.

"You were worried, I was scared to death," Aerin admitted. He headed for the kitchen door.  "We're not out of here yet, but I'll tell you one thing, I won't forget those traitor’s faces as long as I live!"

They ran through two deserted kitchen chambers and then out through a dining hall.  Eventually, they reached a hallway where a few people were moving around.  A man with bushy eyebrows and dressed in robes was calling for calm.  He spotted them and bellowed, "Who are those boys?"

Aerin and Lor ran the opposite direction, and after two turns down different hallways, they finally got out of sight for a minute.  They found a set of stairs and started up when, nearby, they heard someone's voice call for help; it was a young voice.

"Did you hear that?  It came from this way," Aerin noted.

Lor grabbed him by the arm, "And just who do you think you are, a NexLord?  In case you hadn’t noticed, WE’RE the ones who need help!"

Aerin shrugged free, and said, "Come on, we can at least check it out!" He started toward where the voice had come from.

Muttering about dead heroes, Lor followed.

Ahead they heard the sound of running feet coming their way.

“In here!” Lor exclaimed while opening a nearby door, which was luckily unlocked.   They got inside swiftly.

The hoarse bellow of a Togroth calling some command echoed down the hallway from the direction of the footsteps.

"Close the door!" Lor demanded of Aerin in a terrified voice.

But Aerin held up his hand, "Wait..."

The last person Aerin expected to see in the hall came around the corner at a run.  Aerin was momentarily shocked, but he recovered and jumped out in time to grab the fleeing Darel by his robe, which scared the white-faced boy nearly to death.

"Whoa, it's me, Aerin!  What are you doing here?” he asked his friend Darel.

"Togroths!" Darel exclaimed in a frightened and out of breath voice, pointing the way from which he had just come.

Aerin pulled him inside the room and closed the door hurriedly.

Being in the room did nothing to lesson Darel's fear; he grabbed Aerin by the front of the boy's tunic. "They're searching the rooms one by one; eventually, they’ll find us in here!"

Lor was frowning at Darel darkly but said nothing.

Aerin didn't see Lor’s frown, he was too busy figuring out how to get away from the approaching beasts.

A nearby red tablecloth caught his eye.  "Quick, we need a knife!"

Lor produced one as though out of thin air.

Aerin grabbed the knife and quickly slashed three triangles of red material from the tablecloth and then he pulled his sweater off and threw it to Darel.  "Put that on, they've seen you and I want you to look different."  He quickly attached a red triangle to each of their chests as best he could, and then pulled open the door.

"Come on, and whatever you do don't run from them, do what I do," Aerin ordered.

The other two boys looked at him strangely but followed him out of the room.

"I sure hope you know what you're doing because..." Darel started to say when the six Togroth beasts ran around the corner behind them.

Aerin turned and made sure the red triangle showed on his breast.  "The heir went that way; he took the stairs upwards to the barracks area, so hurry, Mumand commands!” then he pointed with a fully extended arm toward the way to the stairs.

Lor swallowed, and then pointed the same direction as Aerin.

Darel, not knowing what else to do, stayed somewhat behind Aerin and pointed as well.

One Togroth started toward the boys, and Aerin nearly ran, but another beast grabbed the advancing Togroth and barked something, and then the brutes turned and lumbered down the hallway in the direction the boys were pointing.

As they went out of sight Darel sagged against Aerin.  "Gedin take me, I think I'm going to throw up.  I've never been so scared."

Lor shook his head and smiled at Aerin, "You have some nerve, don't you?"

Aerin shrugged, "It worked didn't it?"

Then a silky voice spoke from behind them.  "It won't work on us, boy."

Aerin whirled around only to be confronted by the priest Malachai. Accompanying him were the same two traitorous Guardsmen that had nearly cornered Aerin and Lor in the room upstairs.

The boys started to back away, but the Guardsmen lifted short bows knocked with arrows.

"Now, now, boys, not leaving the party, are we?" Malachai asked in a voice that at any other time might have sounded pleasant, but in this fright-filled moment, it was blood chilling.  Aerin felt the same sudden hatred for his friends starting to affect him, as it had in the basements of the church.

Into the cold silence following the priest's words a new voice spoke, surprising everyone present.  "Hello, Chai E'tan," Mara's low-pitched voice spoke conversationally from the stairway, she stepped out into sight, her hands inside the sleeves of her gray robe.  Yearl, with his two sticks in hand and Tocor holding his gray staff stepped out to flank the old woman.

The hatred cut off instantly, and the boys felt normal again.

"Who is this that knows my name?” the priest Aerin knew as Malachai asked and the volume of his voice grew louder.  It was the first time Aerin had heard it change from the silky smooth tones.

"Come and find out, Egedwa, du taton sumatlack, Deglick" she said, suddenly speaking fluidly in a different tongue.

Malachai's eyes widened and he barked, "Kill her."  His two men immediately raised their bows and fired, but Yearl just stepped between them and Mara.  In a flash, his two sticks streaked in swift arcs and the arrows were deflected from the air and struck the floor and walls to the side.

Mara's smile never slipped.

Lor grabbed the tunics of the two boys and whispered in their ears, "Let's fade while they aren't looking!"

Aerin wanted to watch, but Lor dragged him away around the corner.  Once the battle was out of sight he regained his senses and followed the other two boys at a run.

The boys fled, and this time, Darel guided them through the castle halls.  He took them to a rear stairway and up into one of the towers.  Once inside Darel sealed the large iron bound doors behind them.

From the tower windows, they watched the fight below until it was over and only then did they emerge.  Darel led them down a side hall where they cut through two rooms, and then entered a huge open chamber where an unorganized group of people mixed in loud conversation.

To Aerin, it seemed that everyone was talking and no one was listening.

Someone finally spotted the boys.

"Gedin be praised, there he is!"

Talking immediately came to a stop and most of the people in the room knelt to one knee.  Only a small group of robed men remained standing. One of them, a man with fierce bushy eyebrows, that Aerin recalled seeing during their flight, was even scowling.

Aerin whispered to Lor, "What is going on?  I thought they might be glad we put out the alarm, but this?"

Lor glanced at Aerin.  "Haven't you figured it out yet?"

The captain of the Guardsmen marched in and made his way straight to Darel where he knelt and held his mailed fist across his chest.  "Milord Trelic, the Seat is secured.  I hereby render my resignation for failing..."

"Oh stop it, Packert, I'll take no one's resignation for this attack on the seat,” Darel exclaimed.

Aerin whirled to face Darel.  "My Lord Trelic, as in… Gandarel Trelic?” the pieces fell into place in Aerin’s head as he finally figured out that his friend Darel was actually Gandarel Trelic, Heir to the Seat of Stone!

Gandarel looked very sheepish.  "I can't help it, that's who I am."

The man with bushy eyebrows stepped forward.  "I'll take care of the rest of this, someone get Gandarel to safety… and I'll want these other boys questioned immediately."

"That's Niler, he's, well, you will see," Gandarel said with a shrug.

He faced the bushy-browed councilman, "These are my friends, so they are to be treated as such.  They are the ones who rang the alarm bell that saved the Seat," Gandarel proclaimed loud enough for all to hear.

The voices rose in babble again but then quieted as Captain Packert spoke.  "My boys, you have the gratitude of the Guard. You have no idea how many lives you saved, and more importantly, you saved the life of our charge.  We are in your debt," he promised, saluting the two boys.

"They are not to be harassed, and are to be released after they answer a few questions from Captain Packert," Gandarel ordered.

Niler looked like he was about to burst in and override Gandarel, but he held onto himself and settled for leading Gandarel away by the arm to a private area where they could settle a few things.

Captain Packert took Lor and Aerin to another room and asked them how they knew to sound the alarm.  Aerin did the speaking, and though he left out the part about the dead Guardsman, he told them most of how he had learned about the attack and what they had done.

The guard captain asked them two more questions for clarification and then had them escorted back to the Inn where Aerin was staying.  Lor waited until the Guardsmen had left before speaking. "Thanks for not bringing up the dead Guardsman we found in the sewer."

Aerin smiled wanly.  "I promised you I wouldn't talk about that, we all promised, besides, I think we have settled the onus that man put upon us.”

Lor nodded and patted Aerin on the back silently before he disappeared into the streets.  From the east, the sun was just starting to bring the glow of approaching day.

Aerin walked up the stairs to his room tiredly, and suddenly he remembered breaking his promise and wondered what Mara would say and do to him when she returned.  He had not seen Mara since he left her with the priest and his minions, though he couldn't really say he was worried; there was an odd strength in the old woman.   Besides, with Yearl and Tocor there to protect her he doubted an entire Togroth army would get through.

Aerin opened the door and found Mara sitting at the table alone, waiting for him.  He took a deep breath to try and explain, but Mara interrupted him, "Shush, there will be no talk about this.  Just come here so I can try and wash some of that filth off you."

Aerin was speechless, but he stood quietly as Mara stripped off his clothes and tossed them in a pile in the corner.  She cleaned him with a basin of water she had heated on the fire and then pushed him to the bed and tucked him into the covers.  It was all done in silence until he was safely in the bed.

Mara sat next to him, he couldn't make out her face because of the fire behind her, but her voice was not angry.  "Look, if you're going to get into this kind of mess in the future you'd best be better prepared.  You do have an affinity for trouble, don't you?  But with the power that is driving your destiny, this is to be expected.   Tomorrow we begin your training."

"Training?” he asked sleepily.

"Hush, and sleep, you'll need your strength and your wits if you're going to learn to kill Togroths.  Now sleep, young rescuer."

"But how did Yearl...” he started to ask, but Mara's soft finger on his lips stilled his question.

"I always know more than you think, Aerin, didn't I tell you that?  Yearl and Tocor are pursuing the Deglick; you are in no danger now, so sleep without worry.  Good night young hero."

Chapter Five

"And in my vision the teacher came to him, but he chose when he was ready to be taught."

- From the Prophecies of Gold

Later that morning Tocor entered the room, which awakened the tired Aerin.  Mara, as usual, was already up and looking over some papers at the small table.

"We lost him," Tocor said without preamble.

Mara nodded.

"The Deglick hit us with a squad of Togroths, just when we thought we had trapped it at a river.  I don't know how that thing managed to get over the water, but it was gone when we finished off the Togroths."

"Chai E'tan is an old Deglick, its powers are great.  It has had a long time to build up the hatred, and during that time, it has also learned to be cunning.  I don't blame you, but I would sleep better if you had ended that fell creature."

"I have a feeling we haven't seen the last of its evil," Tocor rumbled.

"No doubt, but the time is nearly here when I can finally..." she paused, "Good morning, Aerin, I see that you are finally awake!"

Aerin stretched and then pulled the covers over his head.

Mara put down a piece of paper and looked at him.  "I'll be going out on an errand soon, but I want you here at noon when I return, so we can start your lessons, understood?"

Aerin nodded under the covers, but he figured that Mara understood, somehow she always knew what he was thinking.

A moment later she left.

Aerin got up and sat at the table for a few minutes eating some cheese.

Tocor seemed preoccupied and sat staring into the small fireplace; the golden flecks in his irises seemed to spin in circles.

Aerin pulled on the rest of his clothes and went out to see if one of his friends was out and about.  He only had until noon, but they had lots to talk about with yesterday’s adventure still fresh.

He combed the streets looking for Dono or Lor and had just about given up when he saw Mara heading up a street.  The area was vaguely familiar to Aerin, and then he remembered where he had seen it before.  This was where Mara had stopped the wagon on the first day they had arrived in Strakhelm.

He decided to see what she was up to, though he knew he was playing with fire.  He followed her at extreme distance, hoping that would help.

Mara paused at each of the abandoned building that lined the desolate street, obviously looking for something.  At the third open doorway, she peered into the dark interior and then entered.  Aerin waited a moment and then moved closer until he finally reached a window in the building.  He peeked in over the edge of the windowsill into the dark interior.

Mara was inside, near the back corner of the room.  She sat on the floor before a man dressed in rags.  Aerin couldn’t tell for sure if it was the same man as before, but he believed so.  Then Mara did something that surprised Aerin; she leaned forward and sniffed the man.  He snarled and she lowered her head but didn’t stop.  After a moment, she moved back and sat with her legs held up against her chest.  It was a totally non-aggressive position.

The raggedy man moved forward on all fours and sniffed her tentatively.  After a few moments, he too pulled back and crouched on the balls of his feet.

Mara slowly unfolded her legs and assumed the same crouched position on the floor facing the man.  She proceeded to speak to him in a low voice. Aerin couldn’t hear all she said clearly but caught an occasional word.

“So, how are you doing today?  I … you don’t reme… how to answer…  all right.  I am just going to talk… begin to remember.  How are you doing?  I’m hoping that you… …resume your…  …days soon.  The time is coming soon when the world will need… …and I am hoping you will come back into your own.  I’m training a new NexLord named, Gan… …but that is not… … replacement… …I haven’t told… …but… …need to know that… …is not lost forev… …but will return in their darkest… …

Suddenly the raggedy man leaped past Mara and headed straight for the window where Aerin was watching.

Aerin nearly fell down as he scrambled back.  He dashed around the corner of the building and didn’t stop running until he cleared Netter Street and made a couple of turns.  He quickly worked his way back to the Inn.

Around noon, Aerin went out into the courtyard to see if Mara had returned.  Aerin was surprised to see Gandarel entering from the street.

Six Guardsmen escorted the future Warlord.  They promptly took up positions around the area, two standing near the entrance.

"Darel, or should I call you Gandarel, or Warlord or something?" Aerin asked, with a little embarrassment.

Gandarel scowled, "Call me what you always called me, I'm no different today."

"Except for the guard escort," Aerin said, nodding toward the warriors by the gate, "I'm surprised they let you out after all that business last night!"

Gandarel lowered his voice, "So am I!  Gedin take me, I thought they'd lock me in a tower until I was thirty-three!  But this morning Head Councilman Corbin told me I had a new instructor to add to my schedule.  `Oh joy', I thought, like I really need another instructor trying to teach me more worthless stuff, but then Councilman Enolive took me OUT of the Seat into the city with these six Guardsmen as an escort.  He left me at the Inn's gate after explaining he would be back to pick me up in two hours."

"That's strange, he brought you here?"

"Yes, I asked him what I was to do, he told me to wait here for my new instructor.  He seemed rather peeved about the whole thing, but he explained that my rescuer of the night before had been offered any reasonable reward for saving my life.  Get this, as her reward she asked to teach me two hours each day in the art of discipline.  Gedin help me, this is just what I need, another discipline instructor!"

"But why did they bring you here!" Aerin asked in surprise.

"Answer me that and I'll kiss a toad," Gandarel noted.

"And well that they did bring you here," Mara said from a few paces away, leaning on her knobby wooden cane and smiling a sly smile, "for I am your teacher, Gandarel Trelic."

Gandarel leaned over and whispered to Aerin, "She's the one who got us away from that priest and his false Guardsmen, remember her?"

"Of course, I remember her," Aerin answered in a normal level voice, "she's my..." and here he paused as he tried to think of the proper title, “...my friend, and..."

"How about, 'guardian'?" Mara suggested, filling in his pause.

"Oh," Gandarel exclaimed, "that explains why they brought me here.  Are the other two men still following that priest?"

Mara shook her head, "Unfortunately the Deglick escaped, so my friends have returned.  They will be here shortly to help in Aerin's instruction, and yours.  For the next three years, I am going to be your discipline instructor two hours each day."

"You, Mara?" Aerin asked in surprise.

She graced him with an arched eyebrow and knowing that look Aerin chose to be quiet for a bit.

Gandarel frowned as he said, "I do thank you for my rescue, but I don't think I need any more teachers right now."

Mara laughed a clear and truly amused laugh from deep in her old body.  "You have no other teachers, boy, I am your first."

The laugh made Gandarel defensive.  "I don't want to be taught."

Mara nodded and replied, "Suit yourself, I don't teach those who don't wish to be taught, but you must still come here and sit for two hours each day.  That is the reward I was offered for saving your life, is that too much to ask?"

"No, but I don't HAVE to learn anything?" Gandarel asked, this new tact taking him by surprise.

"Let's say you don't have to choose to learn anything and I won't force you," she agreed.

"Fine, I think I'll just relax over here then," Gandarel decided, walking to one of the small trees and sitting down in the pool of shade.

Mara nodded, a small smile tugging the corner of her mouth.

Aerin followed Gandarel over to the shade and they sat down. Mara headed for the stable where her wagon was parked.

Lor and Dono chose that minute to show up.  The two street boys landed on one of the outer walls from above and then hopped down before approaching Gandarel and Aerin.

"I ought to punch you in the mouth, and I would too if I wasn't afraid of being arrested," Lor declared to Gandarel.

The future Warlord scowled at Lor, "Go ahead girly-boy, I won't arrest you, I'll just kick your ass."

"You and what army?" Lor countered, and then laughed.

It took Gandarel a moment to understand that Lor had been kidding, and then he too laughed.

At that moment, Yearl and Tocor came out of the Inn and also headed for the stable.

Gandarel looked intently at Yearl and then shuddered.  "I wasn't sure back at the Seat last night, but that's a Wiggin, or I’m a Togroth!" Gandarel said, his voice dripping in disgust.

Now it was Aerin's turn to frown. "Yearl?  Yes, he is a Willowman, but what has he done to you to make you sound so disgusted?  He saved your life!  He's the one that saved the three of us in the church, which allowed us to sound the alarm.  Then he saved you from that slimy Malachai."

Lor spoke up, "Now there is a bastard to hate."

"Besides," Aerin asked, still puzzled, "what makes you dislike him?"

"Well, he's a Willowman," Gandarel stated as if that was excuse enough.

"And that is a crime?  Where did you get a fool idea like that?" Aerin asked.  Then he looked at Lor and Dono, "You two don't feel that way, do you?"

Dono shrugged, "I don't hate 'em, but they are unclean."

"Unclean... that’s ridiculous, Yearl is one of the cleanest people I've ever met!"  Aerin said, nearly exploding.  "And, he's my friend.  Who taught you guys this crap anyway?"

Dono and Lor just shrugged, but Gandarel was thoughtful for a moment before answering.  "Hork, High Priest of The Hand.  He's always spouting on about the lower races and how they are spies for the Dreadmaster.  He says that we can only trust true humans and that all others are just spawn created by the Skyentim."

"Skyentim?" Lor repeated in a puzzled tone.

"They’re some kind of angels who fell from paradise to burn forever or something," Gandarel stated with a shrug.

Aerin shook his head, "I don't know what this Priest has been feeding you, Gandarel, but have any of you actually known a Willowman, or a Quarian?”

"Quarian!" Dono shuddered, "Those beast men who live in the wastelands and feed on the Togroths?  I heard they are fifteen feet tall and have snakes for hands!"

"I’m appalled, and again I ask, who feeds you guys this stuff?" Aerin said in disgust.  "My father taught me about the other races; they aren't evil or monsters, they are just different! Do you believe this Priest… this Hork?” Aerin asked Gandarel.

Gandarel smiled. “Actually, no; I think he’s full of crap about just about everything.”

"There, you see?” Aerin said.

"Well maybe I’m wrong about willowmen, but your father was wrong about Quarians! Anyone who has ever seen a Quarian has been eaten by them," Dono informed them with terrible logic.

"You look pretty good for a guy who has been eaten," Aerin said with a smile.

"What do you mean?"

"Tocor is a Quarian," Aerin explained, just as the large man came out of the stable carrying a large bundle.

"You're a liar!" Dono exclaimed.

"Suit yourself," Aerin said with a smile.

The three other boys looked at the large hooded man intently.

"Naw," Lor said, denying the truth.

"You're just pulling our leg," Dono decided.

Aerin raised an eyebrow, "Yearl is a Willowman, why can't Tocor be a Quarian?"

"I've seen a Willowman before," Dono explained, "but no one has seen a Quarian."

"You have today," Aerin answered. "Remember, he is my friend, and I expect him to be treated with respect.  I don't trust those Priests that taught you, Gandarel, I would rather trust a snake."

"Or a Willowman?" Gandarel said but smiled to take the sting out of his words.  "All right, I'll give him the benefit of the doubt. After all, that Priest Hork is more of an evil creature in my book.  He has always given me the creeps."

Mara returned from the stable and saw Aerin sitting with the other three boys.  "Aerin, did you forget that you agreed to begin your lessons today?"

"I didn't forget, Mara," he sighed.

Mara smiled, "Good, then come here.”  When Aerin arrived she added, “Today we'll start with tactics."  Then she addressed Lor and Dono.  "Hello boys, I was just going to teach Aerin a lesson, but I need some help.  Would you two mind lending me a hand?"

Lor shrugged and then both boys got to their feet and sauntered over.  "Sure, what is he learning?" Lor asked with a grin.

"Tactics," Aerin answered dryly.

Mara smiled at Aerin.  "He thinks this is going to be dull.  Lor, do you have those colored balls you like to juggle?"

As if out of thin air the red, blue and green balls suddenly appeared, rotating in a complex pattern above Lor's moving hands.  "These balls?” he asked innocently.

Mara smiled.  "Yes, but we'll only need two right now."

The green one disappeared, and Lor kept the other two in the air with one hand.

"I'm going to let you throw both of them at Aerin, at once," Mara explained.

Aerin's eyes widened, "Hey!"

Mara shrugged, "Try not to let them hit you.  Go ahead, Lor."

Almost simultaneously, both balls were flying toward Aerin.  Aerin swatted one down by sweeping his hand across, but the other ball hit him squarely in the chest.

"Ow!” he exclaimed, rubbing at the spot of impact on his chest. The leather balls were soft, but filled with sand, so the impact had been rather solid.

Lor laughed, "Got ya. I think I’m going to like this training!"

Mara smiled as well and said, "Indeed. Now, Aerin, you managed to block one of them, and that was well done, but what happened with the second ball?"

"I couldn't stop it in time."

Lor retrieved the two balls from the ground.

Mara kept her eyes on Aerin, "Throw the two balls at me, Lor."

Again, faster than Aerin could believe, the two balls were on their way toward Mara.

She simply turned her body so it was out of their path and the balls flew passed, landing in the dirt behind her.

"Movement, it is the most important part of any conflict, but the other side to that statement is you should never react blindly, you must choose your moves, not have them chosen for you."

Aerin looked puzzled.  "That's the most important thing?  Isn't strength, like Tocor, or weapon skill, like Yearl, more important?"

"They have their place, but movement is critical," she explained.

Tocor came over wearing his customary hooded cloak pulled up over his bald head.  He was cradling some long polished pieces of wood against his chest, using his black leather covered hands.  When he placed them on the ground Aerin saw that there were poles and a few wooden swords.

Mara invited Lor, Dono, and Aerin to pick up wooden swords; there were no sharp edges or points on any of them.

Aerin noted that both boys kept a wary eye on Tocor and waited for the large man to back up before approaching the newly deposited pile.

"If I have Dono and Lor attack you who will win?" Mara asked Aerin.

Aerin shrugged ruefully.  "They will, since two on one isn't fair."

Mara smiled as he answered, "That's true, but life is not fair, ever.  How would you survive it if it happened?"

"Movement?" Aerin asked hopefully, though he had no idea what he was talking about.

Mara chuckled and then said, "Exactly, and the first move you would make is to run if you could."

"Run, but that would be cowardly!" Aerin exclaimed.

Dono piped up in a singsong voice, "He who chooses to run away will live to fight another day."

To which Gandarel countered from his spot in the shade, "A coward dies a hundred deaths, a hero only one. I’ve got more old platitudes if you need them," he said with a grin.

Mara caught Aerin's eyes with hers, "That one hero's death comes swiftly, though, yet I do not counsel you to be a coward, only to choose your time.  Picking the right time to fight is wise; dying because it’s brave is foolish. When fate deals you a bad selection you can bow to your fate or attempt to change the situation.  Use your head, not your heart."

"Tocor would never run," Aerin grumbled.

The Quarian's laugh was a deep rumble in his chest.  "Not only have I run, I've run with all of my heart, soul and mind concentrating on saving my hide."

Lor and Dono both stepped back at the sound of his laugh.

"You!" Aerin exclaimed, "You're the greatest fighter I've ever seen."

"It was not the proper time to die," he explained simply.

Mara smiled at her large friend, "It seldom is, but, Aerin, if you could not run and you were cornered and had to fight, what could you do to help even the odds?"

"I don't know," Aerin said.

Mara had Lor and Dono stand side by side and face Aerin with their raised swords.  "All right, no blows to the head, just to the body.  I want you two to touch Aerin on his body somewhere before he touches you.  If anyone has a sword touch their body, they are out and must fall back... go!"

Aerin unskillfully tried to block their somewhat wild thrusts and swings. He stayed completely on defense, retreating swiftly.  By making them advance he was able to stop them for a few moments, but his back came up against the hitching post and Dono's dull sword tip poked him in the stomach.

"I win!" Dono exclaimed.

"All right, now attack Tocor," Mara told the two victors.

Tocor picked up one of the practice swords with his black-gloved hand and held it casually at his side.

The two boys looked at the massive mountain fearfully.  "But that's not fair, he is a... a... warrior, a very BIG warrior," Lor finally said, though it wasn't the word he had started to say, then he added, “and he is far larger and stronger than we are!"

"You didn't complain about two on one against Aerin, but I'll concede your point, for now.  Let's have you attack me instead," she ordered.  Mara stood leaning on her wooden cane.

Dono looked sheepish and said, "I can't fight an old woman."

Tocor's face was unreadable.

Lor looked at Dono in disgust.

Mara stepped over near the red headed boy and rapped him sharply on the shin with her cane.

"Ow!" Dono yelped, leaning over and rubbing at his shin.

Mara swung her cane sideways and whacked his protruding rear end.

"Stop it!” he exclaimed, standing swiftly.

"All you have to do is touch me with your practice sword, little boy, and I'll stop,” explained Mara with a sly smile on her lips.

Lor picked up Dono's fallen practice sword and handed it to his friend.  "Come, she wants us to do this, so let’s get her!"

Dono nodded, and they advanced, side by side.

Mara waited until they were fairly close, and then just before they could engage, she took a swift step to Dono's left, away from Lor.  She swung her cane up and toward Dono's left arm, but he managed to block the swing.  However, by extending his wooden sword up to block Mara's cane he effectively stopped Lor from rotating around so that they could both face Mara.  She completed her movement and had Dono between her and Lor.

Then her cane smote his sword and it swung wide while her cane tip licked in and touched him on the heart lightly.

"You're out," she explained.

Dono scowled but stepped aside.

Mara lowered her cane as she said, "Enough, Lor, there is no need for us to battle, the point is made."

"Yeah, you're better than they are," Aerin exclaimed.

"Yes, but that is not the point of the exercise. Who knows what happened here?" Mara asked.

It surprised the three boys when Gandarel spoke up from the shade of his tree, but Mara smiled slightly, though her back was to him so he didn't see it.

"She used her movement to cut down the odds so she only had to face one of you at a time, and she made Dono use his sword to block out his own companion," Gandarel explained.

"In other words," Mara noted, “I moved to make things better for me, and I caused someone else to 'react' in their movement in such a way that it helped me and hindered them.  Movement, he who controls the movement of himself and his opponents controls the outcome of the battle."

Gandarel got up and came over.  "I thought you were going to teach discipline?"

"Discipline is a concept; I AM teaching them discipline, the discipline of how to survive by using your wits, talents and brain, instead of reacting with animal instinct, panic, and stupidity.  That takes discipline.  Now, would you care to join us?” she asked.

But Gandarel was still stubborn.  "No, I'll watch."

Mara smiled, but shrugged as she said, "Suit yourself."

Each day Mara taught Aerin, and almost every day Dono and Lor showed up and were roped in as well.  It took two weeks before Gandarel could swallow his pride and ask Mara to teach him, but when he did she made no point of it. She didn't act surprised or smug, she just added him into the group and it was soon forgotten. Mara rented a house with its own courtyard and the lessons were moved there. Over time, the boys lost most of their fear and prejudice against the Quarian and Willowman. The more they got to know them, the less mysterious and evil they seemed.  Gandarel was just careful to never mention the Quarian or the Willowman to his teachers in the Seat, particularly the High Priest of The Hand.  Tocor or Yearl did the actual fighting with the boys, with Mara acting as a mentor.  Sometimes the day’s lesson did not involve fighting and confused the boys, but eventually her lessons all made sense in the grand scheme of things.

Nearly two years passed without much outward change, five days out of each week the Guardsmen brought Gandarel for two hours of instruction at Mara's hand.  Soon Gandarel found himself looking forward to the teaching, fidgeting in his other classes as he waited to escape the confines of the Seat of Stone so he could be with his friends.  And because the change was gradual the boys didn't see it, but they were learning far beyond their years.

It was a Threesday and summer had come again when Mara walked onto the sand and faced Aerin in the practice square.  All of the boys took note; it was the first time they had seen Mara enter the fighting arena.

She smiled at the surprised boy, he had been sparring with Lor during warm up when Mara had tapped his friend on the shoulder and swapped places.

Aerin was puzzled, and he asked, “Did I do something wrong, Sen Mara?”

Her eyes glinted and the ghost of a smile peeked out of the corner of her mouth.  “Not at all, Aerin, in fact, today is your chance to move on to the next level.  I think you are the first to be ready.”

Aerin’s chest puffed out with pride.

“Don’t get a swelled head or you might end up with a real one,” she noted.  “Today you are going to spar with me.  I’ll give you a word of advice, remember everything I have taught you, everything.  Your skill with that weapon will not be enough.”

The young boy lost his prideful look and the familiar worried frown he wore when concentrating appeared.

Gandarel plopped down onto the ground outside the sand square as if a spectator at the Gladiator finals and said, “You can take her, Aerin, she’s old.”

That got him a dirty look from both Aerin and Mara.  Aerin replied, “Hey, you don’t have to get her riled up!”

Mara brought her attention back to Aerin and stepped forward into the center of the square.  “All you need do to win the bout is force me out of the square, or onto the sand.”  With that, she casually set the end of her cane in the sand before her and crossed her hands over the top.

Aerin held his staff in the two handed fighting grip he had been taught, the shaft at a forty-five-degree angle from the ground.  He approached cautiously, sliding one foot forward before following up with the second to keep his balance ready for a sudden attack or for a lunge at his adversary.

When he closed the distance to striking range Mara casually lifted her cane in her right hand.

Aerin jumped back three feet, and his watching friends guffawed.

“She nearly got you there, Aerin; you nearly jumped out of the square in fright!” Lor said with a smile.

Mara remained quiet while watching the young boy before her.

Aerin moved forward more firmly and again reached striking range.

Mara waited.

Aerin made his move.  His quarterstaff blurred in an attempt to strike from the lower left toward Mara’s thigh.  It met wood as Mara rotated her cane clockwise striking his staff and driving it to the side away from her.  As her cane came around she poked it straight down and smacked Aerin on the top of his extended right foot.

“Ow!” he yelped and jumped back, but he kept an eye on Mara and brought his staff back into defensive position, lest she follow up with a more serious attack while he was in pain from his foot.

Mara followed and seemed to glide forward across the sand.

With the distance between them closed, she again waited.

Aerin feinted low and spun his staff into a quick shoulder attack, and again wood met wood solidly.  Within seconds Aerin's staff licked out in swift strikes, each time smacking into Mara's cane solidly.  The end of the flurry of blows was almost too fast to see; Aerin’s last deflected blow made his staff ride a little high and Mara jabbed the end of her cane into his stomach.

The air whooshed out of him and he nearly fell backward onto his rear, but he managed to stagger and keep his balance.

There was laughter from his watching friends.

“Come on, Aerin, she is only a girl,” Dono exclaimed.

Lor elbowed Dono in the ribs, “I bet she can take you!”

Aerin readied his staff again and moved back into combat range.  This time, he waited in defense.

Mara noted his change in posture and gave him a slight nod to acknowledge his challenge.  Her cane moved in an obvious strike for his head, but when he went to block she pulled the end of her cane back.  The expected impact did not take place and for an instant, Aerin’s center of balance shifted too far to his left.  Mara whirled the cane in a tight arc that came in low on his right.  Aerin had no choice but to spin his quarterstaff clockwise to try and block, shifting his weight even further out of center.

Mara’s cane slid off his parry and came up under his right armpit in a stinging blow.  She pulled the cane back and slammed around in a sweeping arc that headed for his shin.  He couldn’t get his staff around in time to block, so he attempted to jump the cane.  It caught his shin while in the air and he did a quarter turn, landing hard onto the sand.

At this point, Mara turned her back to the fallen boy, placed the end of her cane back on the sand and bowed slightly to his laughing and cheering friends sitting at the edge of the square.

On the ground, Aerin felt his face flush with embarrassment.  Not only did his body hurt, but his friends were also laughing, and Mara was rubbing it in by taking a bow!  Anger surged in his mind.  Her unprotected back was right in front of him.  Smarting from the blows that would bring him ugly black bruises, Aerin got to his feet with his staff held ready to strike, but then he remembered his teachings and recognized his anger.  He paused a moment and then relaxed, his anger fading. He cleansed the area with thoughts of care for this woman who had taken him in when he had lost everything.  He decided he was big enough to swallow his pride and let her have her victory.   He knelt to one knee in the sand behind her as Mara turned to face him.

“Mara, I admit defeat and I thank you for your lesson.  I will try not to fail you again the next time you test me.”

The self-satisfied smile vanished from her lips as if it had never been there, and she regarded the young man before her with fondness.  “Aerin, what makes you think you have failed?  Today you have proven to me that you are ready to go on to the next level.”

“But you won!  You told me I had to knock you down or drive you from the square.”

“True, I said that would win the bout, but winning the bout didn’t have anything to do with passing the test.”

Mara knelt down in the sand facing the puzzled boy and put her hands on his shoulders, looking right through his eyes into his soul.  Her next words were soft for his ears alone.  “Please forgive my little act, it was necessary.  The test was not in winning the fight, but what you did after tasting defeat and humiliation.  What would you do with your anger... or hate.  Skill is all well and good, but if you cannot control your emotions, if you cannot overcome that most evil part of us that hates, then your power will only feed the Wraiths.  I am proud of you today, Aerin, and I can feel the friendship you have for me, it is a gift I prize above all else.”

Aerin did not understand completely, but he knew he had Mara’s respect and it filled his heart with joy.  His eyes misted over and he nodded to her in gratitude.

Mara gave him a last squeeze with her hands and then stood and faced the other boys.

“Aerin has passed the first level of discipline...”

“PASSED!” Gandarel ejected in disbelief.

“Yes, he is ahead of all of you, I am very proud of him.  I will begin to teach Aerin the next level.  Soon some of you will be ready to take the same test.  I will tell you when I think you are ready, however, today belongs to Aerin, and tonight we are going to celebrate his achievement by going out to dinner.”

“But he lost!” Gandarel exclaimed.

“I will be the judge of his skill, not you, Gandarel,” Mara said curtly.

Gandarel looked a little sullen about Aerin’s achievement, but all three of his friends pounded Aerin on the back in congratulation.

The tavern dining room was only sparsely attended as Mara, Tocor, and the four boys took their seats at a long table with six chairs, three to a side.  Mara sat directly across from Aerin at the end of the table.   Four burly off-duty merchant bodyguards were drinking and griping about life at a table to their right.

“Mara, what was that you said about the Wraiths today?” Aerin asked.

Her lips pouted slightly for a moment as she marshaled her thoughts.  “You have read a great deal about the wars, haven’t you?”

“Yes, my father had books about the old wars.”

“So tell me what you know about the Wraiths.”

“They are evil men who wield vast magical powers.  They live in the wastelands and rule over the Togroths.  They want to kill everyone in the Kingdom.”

Mara smiled, “Is that it?”

Aerin was a little indignant at her question, “I could tell you the full history of the final war.”

Mara laughed and Aerin felt, even more, ire.  At his look she put a hand on his to calm him, “I’m not laughing at you, Aerin, but at the fools who named it the ‘Final war’... final indeed.”

Aerin relaxed, mollified.

“I’m sure you could recite the entire, uh, history of the sordid affair if I requested, but that is not what I meant.  I want to know what you know of the Wraith’s power.  What is their power?  How are they created?  Where do they get this magical power of which you speak?”

Aerin considered for a moment and then said, “Well, I always assumed it was hatred.  They hate everything and their hatred is used to form spells.”

Mara shook her head, denying what he said.  “That is not quite right, Aerin.  You see one person’s hatred is not enough to do more than petty damage in the world.  One man might hate enough to kill another man, but that is little evil compared to the Wraith's power."

They pondered her words for a moment and then Aerin asked, "Is there any way to resist a Wraith's power of hatred?"

Mara nodded and replied, "It isn't easy.  If they can find any hatred in your heart then they have a hold on you, but a strong mind that can keep focused on another emotion can resist their power.  However, it takes training and will power to withstand a Wraith's attack on your mind.  You see they leach the power of hatred and gather it up.  They are a deadly foe, for the more you hate them, the more powerful they become.  But you were correct when you said they hate everything. To become a Wraith and wield the cumulative power of hate it must be the foremost emotion that rules your life.”

“Is this cumulative power true of other emotions as well?” Aerin asked.

“Ah, now you touch on an underlying truth.  Yes, all emotions have power, though not all manifest in the same manner.  Emotions power your life and every choice you make.  There are many emotions and some types are stronger than others.  Hatred and fear are amongst the strongest, but jealousy can be a deadly force as well.”

Aerin considered her words, “I have heard of Wraiths and the Dreadmaster, they use hate and fear.  Who wields the power of jealousy?”

“Jealousy is too hard to control, many of those afflicted by it are or were in love and this combination is too volatile to control easily.  In the end, jealousy leads to hatred, which is the root of that power.”

“What about love?  Isn’t it a powerful emotion?” Aerin asked.

Mara nodded, “Indeed, at times too powerful.  Love is a power that can cause great joy and great anguish; it is probably the most dangerous emotion to deal with.  Still, great evil and good have been done with it and in its name.  Take the case where a man loves a woman, but she loves another man as well.  Jealousy is fueled by the power of love, and that, as I've explained, leads to hatred.  Great deeds of evil may then be done in the name of love, although years later when the jealousy and hatred have dulled only the regrets for what they wrought remain.”

Aerin considered all the emotions he could think of for awhile.  “If hate and fear are the most powerful evil emotions, what is the most powerful good emotion?”

“No guess?  All right I’ll tell you, friendship.  It is the most constant, runs the deepest and lasts the longest.  Hatred can come on strong and be so powerful it ruins a person’s life but given enough time it dulls.  Fear can leave you quivering unable to move, but strong fear cannot be easily sustained.  Fear too much for too long and your heart will just give out.  Fear is the second most powerful emotion, but it never runs as deep as friendship.  You can lose your fear in a moment, even if it has been with you for years, but friendships are not so fickle.  In friendship there is an invisible bond; one friend can help sustain the other through this bond.”

“Like NexLords!” Aerin exclaimed, “They have close friends that bond to them.”

Mara nodded with a twinkle of amusement in her eye.

Aerin paused to think for a moment.   “You said fear is not as lasting as friendship, but I could be afraid of something my whole life.”

Mara nodded, “And some people are, but let me give you a simple example.  Were you afraid of the Togroths when they attacked your family?”

Aerin bowed his head and said quietly, “Yes, more than anything.”

“And are you afraid of them killing you right this minute?”

“No, they can’t get to me here in this tavern with Tocor nearby.”

“You see, fear comes and goes.  Now, is Gandarel your friend?”

“Yes!”

“And tomorrow, when he laughs at you when you trip and fall, will you no longer be his friend?”

“Well, I would be cross with him.”

“True, but would you lose your friendship for him if that happened?”

“No, I suppose not.”

“So, what would it take, what crime could he do that you would not support him, try to help him and be there for him?”

“Nothing, I guess, I’m his friend.”

Mara smiled, “Of course, and I would expect nothing less of you.  There, you see the difference?”

Aerin nodded, “I guess you are right.”

Now Mara laughed softly, “I am always right, but do people listen?  Now did you have any other questions about the Wraiths?”

"You have told us that a strong person can resist the Wraith's power, is there any way to destroy them?

Mara nodded slowly.  "To become a Wraith everything except hatred is destroyed, this includes even their life."

Lor spoke derisively, "You're saying Wraiths are dead men walking around?"

"Or women, we hate just as strongly as men.  It is true; their hate alone animates the corpse that was their living body before they were turned."

"If they're dead, how come they don't stink and rot?" Dono demanded.

Mara nodded.  "You jest, Dono, but you are not far from the truth.  Their bodies must be preserved, so they use a treatment that is both chemical and magical.  It keeps them from deteriorating, but it makes them a little hard, like wood.  They also tend to smell of corruption, though this can be masked with fragrant ointments.  This treatment has an Achilles heel; they must avoid water at all costs.  Even the proximity disrupts their power.  Direct contact with water is deadly to their body, though not the hatred that animates the dead tissue."

Gandarel laughed.  "You mean to tell me that a bucket of water is all that it takes?  Then why is anyone afraid of these things?"

"They are fast and strong and their powers to control your mind through any hatred you harbor make them deadly enough, Gandarel."

Gandarel didn't like the slight rebuff in Mara's tone, so he changed the subject by calling down the table, “Hey, Aerin, oh Grand Master of Dull Jokes, since you are now of such exalted status why don’t you tell us which is the best weapon to take into battle?”

Mara answered him instead, “If you can answer your own question correctly, Gandarel, I will consider you ready to take your test as well.”

Gandarel glanced toward the door, where two of his Guardsmen stood at sentry position; both wore the customary swords of the guard.  He considered choosing the sword, as it was his favorite weapon, but something in Mara’s crafty eyes told him an easy answer was not going to suffice.

He decided to try and outguess her, “There is no ‘best’ weapon.”

Mara started to say something but stopped when Gandarel continued.

“It is different for each person.  For Tocor, the staff is the best weapon while for Yearl it is his sticks.  For me, the best weapon is the sword.”

“Actually, you are wrong.  The best weapon is the same for everyone,” Mara corrected him.

“If that is the case then it would be a sword,” he answered, deciding he should have gone with his first choice.

“The best weapon is your mind,” Mara explained.

Gandarel looked indignant, “Oh come on!  You know that is not fair.  We were discussing battle; you can’t hit someone with your mind!”

“Perhaps not figuratively, but given the choice of facing three imbeciles with swords or one genius with his bare hands, I know what I would choose,” Mara countered.

“But I’m talking about three guys with swords attacking you, certainly then you would need a weapon!”

“Agreed, I always go armed with my mind.”

“Fat lot of good that would do you if you had to parry a sword thrust,” Gandarel said with a grin.

“Why do you say that?  There are objects aplenty within this room for an agile mind to fight with, and none of them are swords, daggers, clubs or staffs,” Mara stated.

“Like what?” Gandarel said, calling her bluff.

“This loaf of bread, my chair, this candle, any of these mugs, the floor...” Mara pointed as she went through her list.

Gandarel interrupted, “That loaf of bread is a weapon?” He pointed at the offending object on the table between them.  The bread was a forearm in length with a golden colored hard crust and thick doughy interior.

“Your mind is the weapon; it can use anything as a tool.”

At that moment, one of the four rough looking bodyguards seated at the table next to Mara stood up to go to the bar. He was holding a mug of ale.   In standing his sword caught under the bench, and that caused him to lurch toward Mara and he sloshed some of his ale onto Mara’s shoulder.

“Speaking of imbeciles with swords!” Mara snapped in irritation, wiping at the stain on her dress.

“Who you callin’ an imbisilly?” the man growled, leaning his rather large bulk over Mara in a threatening way.

Gandarel’s Guardsmen started forward out of the shadows, but Gandarel motioned them back with a gesture.  “So, Sen Mara, you are telling me you could take this man with your mind and the objects you described?  Or would you prefer my Guardsmen’s swords to back you up?”

Aerin noticed Tocor putting his mug down carefully in the center of the table.

Mara looked up at the large brute above her and sighed as she said, “I would like to apologize...”

“’Bout time, old woman, I would have hated to have had ta toss ya out onto the street,” the big brute growled.

“...for the bruises and contusions you are about to receive, but consider that your short pain will be an invaluable example to illustrate an important lesson for this boy.”

His answer was short, to the point and not very witty, “Huh?”

The old woman rose slowly to her feet and faced the man.  “You are a slob, you smell, and I would tell you that you had the manners of a swine if that wasn’t insulting the poor creatures.”

The man looked to his friends in disbelief, “Did this prune faced old wench just call me a pig?”

One of the seated men answered him, “Yeah, Taunk, I think she did.”

“I’ll teach ya, bitch!” he growled and tried to backhand her across the mouth with a meaty paw.

Mara simply stepped back out of range, letting the hand pass by a finger’s width from her nose.

Aerin started to stand, but Tocor fixed him with a sharp gaze and said, “Sit down, Aerin.”

“I see that you have no qualms about striking a woman,” Mara noted, “And unfortunately for you, I have no qualms about striking brutes.”  Without looking down, Mara grabbed a mug off the table by its thick handle, and with a sweeping gesture, she raised it in the air.  In a loud voice that carried to the entire tavern, she said, “I propose a toast!  Here is to justice...”

The brute regained his balance from his missed swing just in time to gawk at the mug Mara held in the air.  At which point Mara doused the ale in his face.  When he flinched she backhanded the heavy clay mug across the side of his head, shattering the mug.

The large man staggered from the sudden impact, shaking his head like a wounded dog as if that would make the sharp pain go away.

Mara reached back with both hands for her chair as if to sit, but set the front right leg on the man’s foot, before plopping down with all her weight.  As she sat down she reached for the loaf of bread on the table and then tore off the end.

As her weight pressed down through the chair leg and onto his foot the man howled in pain, doubling over toward Mara. He grabbed the table for support as he tried to pull his foot out from under the offending chair leg.

Mara quickly squeezed the piece of bread in her fist, and with a short hard thrust, stuffed the thick dough in his open mouth.

Gagging on the bread, the man managed to pull his foot out from under the chair, just as Mara leaned the burning candle over and spilled some hot wax on the back of his hand, where he gripped the table edge.

The man sucked in a breath of pure dough, as he tried to inhale to scream, and started choking for air.  He released the table and grabbed at his throat, his face starting to turn a nice shade of blue.

Mara stood up and walked slowly around the choking man. She arrived behind him just as his legs started to go rubbery from the lack of oxygen.  She grabbed him around the waist, placing her hands in his stomach area, and then pulled up and backward sharply.  The bread flew out of his mouth with explosive force, striking the astounded Gandarel in the face.  The unfortunate Taunk doubled over onto the table top, gasping in a wheezing gulp of much-needed air.

Mara released him, stepped to his side and grasped the back of his head by his unruly hair.  With a short economic yank and thrust, she bounced his head off the hardwood table and let him fall to the ground.  Before his body had completely come to rest, she turned with a confident look and faced the unconscious man’s three friends.  She took a step toward them and all three flinched, starting up from their chairs to get away from the old woman who had just incapacitated their large companion.

“If you stand up I’ll have to do something,” she said simply.  “If you want it bandied about that it took all three of you big brave men to fight one old woman... well, then by all means get up.”

All three of the burly men froze half out of their chairs.

Mara spoke in a friendly tone, “I have no quarrel with any of you unless you wish to be as rude as your friend?”

Glancing at each other the three men slowly sat back down.

“He had it comin’, if ya asks me,” one of them said.  The other two nodded and finally relaxed when Mara gave them a small smile and a nod, then turned back to her table.

Mara pulled her chair back into position and sat down gracefully.

Gandarel and the other boys were all in shock.  Finally, Gandarel said, “Shouldn’t we get out of here before he wakes up?”

“And spoil our celebration?  I should say not.  Besides, he won't be feeling much like fighting for awhile,” Mara said after glancing over the edge of the table to check on the brute, he was out cold on the floor.

“I guess she showed you,” Lor noted to Gandarel with a grin.

Aerin finally got his mouth working, “How did you do that?”

Mara spoke calmly, “I thought ahead of him, that’s all, it wasn’t magic. I just used my head to think, while he used his to pound wood.  Your mind is the weapon, Gandarel, don’t forget it.”

Gandarel swallowed and then nodded his acceptance of the lesson.

Aerin considered Mara quietly during the rest of the meal.  She was far lither and stronger than he would ever have suspected from an old woman, and though he didn't know her age for sure, he started thinking he had guessed wrong to begin with.  She had to be younger than he had thought the day he had first met her when his parents were killed.  Then he had thought her in her seventies, but now he revised his estimate to somewhere in her sixties.  He wondered how a woman came to know so much about fighting; it puzzled him.

The man was still out on the floor sometime later when Mara paid the bill and they left.

Chapter Six

"Not all his lessons will involve weapons, and not all his classrooms involve the teacher."

- From the Prophecies of Gold

Ten days later, Aerin was just finishing his warm-ups before starting weapon practice, when he noticed a very sleepy Lor arriving late.

“Hard night?” he asked playfully.

Lor scowled, and with uncharacteristic irritation replied, “What I do at night is none of your business.”

Aerin was taken aback by his friend’s tone. “Hey, you don’t have to bite my head off!  I was only mentioning that you looked tired. I didn’t mean anything by...”

“Then just drop it, like I said, it is my business.”

Aerin looked over at Dono, who shrugged to show his lack of understanding as well.

Puzzled, Aerin continued his warm-ups.

Tocor soon had them working on drills with practice swords, and matched up Lor and Gandarel for a bout in the sand square.

Lor’s skill with the sword had improved over the months, and though technically Gandarel was better, the two of them were a close match.  Today, however, Lor seemed to have lost a step.   The third time that Gandarel scored a full hit on Lor, this one a bruising blow to the upper arm, Tocor stepped in and stopped the bout.

“You don’t seem to be concentrating today.  Perhaps you should stop and practice your defensive sequences, alone,” Tocor suggested in his deep voice.

“Whatever, I’m done,” Lor declared and stuck the practice sword into the sand and then marched off out of the courtyard.  Aerin started to follow, but Tocor called him back.

“Let him be, Aerin.  Sometimes people need a chance to cool down, you can be his friend later.”

Aerin watched Lor depart while wondering what was wrong with the normally irrepressible youth.

As Dono and Aerin sparred they discussed their friend.

“You have any idea what is wrong with Lor?” Aerin inquired.

Dono grunted noncommittally.

Aerin scowled, he knew Dono was keeping something from him.

“Come on, tell me!”

Dono just circled with his practice sword ready.

Aerin concentrated on the bout for a few moments, and when he saw his opening he came in with a quick feint, followed by a circular move that got through Dono’s defense. Aerin brought his sword down on the other boy’s wrist with good force, and Dono nearly dropped his sword.

“Ow!”

“Got what you deserved, I’m only trying to help Lor!” Aerin explained.

“Well, you can’t beat it out of me!” Dono complained, rubbing at his wrist.

Aerin smiled, “I wasn’t trying to beat it out of you, in truth I just wanted to make sure I had your attention.”

“All right, I don’t really know what is wrong with him.”

“But...” Aerin prompted.

“I might have a guess,” Dono said sheepishly.

“Spill it.”

Dono glanced over to where Tocor was working with Gandarel on his lunge.  They were out of casual earshot.

“I saw him with a couple of the Skulls, two days ago.”

Aerin straightened up out of his sword stance.

“Skulls, what would he be doing with them?  He’s been trying to stay away from that rat pack since the first day we met!”

“I know, and that’s why I found it strange.  I sort of followed them,” Dono said, his gaze locked onto Aerin’s eyes as if seeking some approval for doing wrong.

“Well, what did you find out?”

“I think they have him stealing for them.”

“Dread take me, we better go to Mara about this, she will know...”

“NO, they have something on Lor, I don’t know what, but he wouldn’t work for them unless he didn’t dare to cross ‘em.  If he is willing to do their dirty work, it must be something he don’t want anyone ta know.  Not you, not me and certainly not anyone else.”

“All right, let's get together after practice and see what we can figure out.”

During the rest of practice, Aerin thought over what Dono had told him.  Gandarel had to return to the Seat right after practice, so Dono and Aerin went out into the street together and found a place to talk.

Aerin had an idea of what they were holding over Lor’s head.  “Could it be that brand mark you told me about?” he asked Dono.

“Maybe, I don’t know.”

“What else do you know?” Aerin demanded, “Come on, I can’t help him if you hold out on me.”

Dono wouldn’t meet Aerin’s eyes.

Aerin took him by the shoulders and shook him, “Tell me, Dono, or I will have to go to Mara.”

“They have been wanting to get Lor ‘cause of the way he can move on the high road.”

“Yes, I know how good he is, but what good does that do them?”

“There is a job they want done and they think Lor can get in.”

“Job?”

“You know, a night lifter.”

“You mean burglary?”

“Yeah.”

Aerin considered his next words; “I know Lor has done some of that in the past...”

Dono shook his head, “Not lately, and not like this!  He might have lifted a purse or two in the past, or filched some bread, but not like this, not a night lifter.”

“What about that brand?” Aerin prompted.

“I never done seen it.  I just supposed it was true as he never takes his shirt off.”

“I see.”

“Meanwise, if he does have the brand, the next time he’s caught he’ll be pole mounted.”

“Pole mounted?”

“Yeah, just his head; they feed the body to the dogs.”

Aerin shuddered at the thought of his friend being beheaded.  “Gandarel will stop them; he won’t allow Lor to be... pole mounted.”

“He won’t have a chance, the Guard will see his brand and do it to him right on the spot, that is the law, no waiting.  They don’t go bothering the Seat of Stone for petty thieves.”

Aerin considered for a moment.  “Wait, Lor wouldn’t allow the Skulls to make him risk beheading just to hide a brand, would he?  They must be holding something else over him.”

“Could be, but I dunno what,” Dono answered.

“Well, we had best find out if we are going to help him.”

“He won’t tell you, remember how proud Lor is,” Dono warned.

Aerin nodded, “I know.  All right, we’ll have to do this secretly.  We will take turns following him; it is our duty to help our friend, even if he doesn’t want help.”

“I don’t know Aerin; it is kinda like betraying his trust.”

“Look, you did it already, and we will both promise to keep any secrets we learn between the two of us... deal?”

“Deal.”

“All right, here is the problem: you and I aren’t as good as Lor at traveling the High Road so we will need to be smart.  When following Lor keep back and risk losing him rather than being discovered, got it?”

“Right, I’ll let you know what I learn.”

“Meanwhile, I’ll explain to Mara that you and Lor have some other business to attend to that I don’t know about.  That’s pretty close to the truth without saying too much.”

Dono nodded.

“Come get me if you find out something, I’ll be ready,” Aerin promised.

Dono sighed and gave Aerin a weary smile, and then departed for the rooftops.

The next day, when Aerin went out into the city in search of Dono, he couldn’t believe all the decorations that were being put up for the upcoming Freedom day.  The lamp poles that lined the streets were wrapped in colorful flowers and ropes, and banners were strung across the streets.  Even shop windows were painted with scenes of victory.  Some people were already cavorting in fancy costumes depicting fierce and horrible creatures, as well as Lords and Ladies of the Worthy.  By far the most popular costume was that of the NexLord, Ragol, and his four bondsmen: Juman the fearless, Hazlerfeld of Westerock, Kor of the twin swords and Sethra the true.  Legends all, these were the five heroes who led the armies to victory in the ‘Last Fight’ against the Dreadmaster and his legions of the Togroth, three hundred and twenty-one years ago.

The streets were busier than normal, so it took Aerin longer to reach his meeting place with Dono.  He found his nervous friend leaning against one of the decorated lamp poles, with a sour expression of worry pasted on his round face

“There you are at last,” Dono greeted Aerin.

“Yes, I can’t believe all the stir in the city about Freedom day,” Aerin said to explain his tardiness.

“It is always like this, any excuse for a party, and this is the biggest one of the year.”

“I didn’t realize people knew the history of Ragol so well,” Aerin answered.

Dono laughed, “They don’t!  I didn’t, for that matter, not until I met you.  Somehow you manage to talk about Ragol all the time, I bring up food, and you talk about Ragol.  I mention a favorite Gladiator and you talk about Ragol.  I don’t think you realize you’re obsessed!”

Aerin poked him in the ribs with a finger.  “I’m not that bad!”

“Worse, but anyway, most people just celebrate Freedom day without really knowing anything.  They wear costumes and cavort around pretending to be Ragol, but they couldn’t tell you much about him if you asked them.  He lived so long ago that now his great victory is just an excuse to have a party.”

Aerin looked serious, “Someone should teach them. After the war, Ragol said the Togroths would return and…”

“Obsessed, I tell you, see what I mean?” Dono interrupted.

“All right, you win,” said Aerin with a grin.  “But he was right, about the Togroths...”

Dono put his hands over his ears and started walking away, “I’m not listening!”

Aerin hurried to catch up as he called out, “OK I’ll quit, but only if you tell me what you learned about Lor.”

Dono’s playful smile evaporated and he looked worried once again.  “I followed him last night, he was checking out a place... it ain’t good.”

“What place?”

“The merchant master’s villa.”

“Merchant master?”

“He controls the Merchant Council; he is a very powerful and rich man.  He has lots of guards, lots of locks and lots of grief if you mess with him.  Only a fool would try to steal from a man with that kind of power.  He could call in every Guardsmen, not personally assigned to Gandarel’s protection, and send them to overturn every stone in the city until the culprit was found.”

“And how do you know Lor was ‘checking’ his place?” Aerin asked.

“I know, I’ve done a little of that work myself, not lately, but you know, times were hard a while back,” Dono said, a little sheepish.

Aerin patted him on the shoulder, “It’s OK, Dono, I understand.  Got any ideas on what to do?  We could talk to Lor...”

“And he will tell us to butt out.  You know how he is,” Dono said miserably.

“We could go to Gandarel.”

Dono shook his head negatively.  “You know how he puts ‘duty’ ahead of sense.  He would go to Lor and tell him not to rob the merchant, then Lor would be belligerent and Gandarel would tell him he would have to follow the law. Lor would tell him to do as he pleases and then things would just be worse because Lor would do it anyway, and the Guard would be waiting and... ”

Aerin placed a hand on his arm, “Slow down, you’re rambling; besides, I see your point.  Then we will have to do this from the other end.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s the Skulls who are pushing him; we’ll have to push back.”

“There are a lot of them, and many of ‘em are older boys.  There are only two of us.”

“Four, if you count Gandarel and Lor.  They have something to hold over Lor, we need to know what that is so we can remove it.  Then we’ll see what’s up.”

“Lor won’t tell us.”

“I didn’t say we would ask him!   I wonder how much time we have to figure it out?  Any idea when Lor will move on the Merchant?”

Dono considered for a moment.  “I’ll have to look into it, but a holiday is always a good time, there is lots of confusion, people leave their houses to go to parties all night.  Yeah, I would guess he’ll do it on Freedom day.”

“That is at the end of the week, five days.”

Dono nodded, “That would be about right.  Well, I doubt Lor is going to do anything until later tonight, but if you want to keep track of him, he is juggling two streets over.”

“I’ll watch him,” Aerin promised.

“Good, then you can tell me where to find him when I take over again come nightfall.  Meet me here again at lamp light.”

“I’ll be here, but if not, don’t wait more than about an hour.”

“Right.”

Aerin found Lor easily by the crowd gathered around to see his latest juggling performance.  Lor cleaned out the can after he was finished, and then headed down the street and Aerin followed.

Curiously, Lor went into an herb supplier for a time.  Aerin waited outside, wondering what he could be buying in such a place.  The shop was way too small to risk going inside; Lor would have seen him instantly.

After the other boy came out he headed to a part of town Aerin had never been to before. The streets became dirtier and a higher number were boarded up.

Aerin peeked around the last corner where he had seen Lor turn and jerked his head back.  Lor was only a few feet away, though luckily his back was to the corner.  He had stopped at an old woman who was sitting on a small stool with a bucket of flowers next to her, obviously for sale.

Aerin listened.

“Any luck today?” Lor asked the woman.

“No, but I’m sure someone will buy something soon, never fear,” she replied.

“Come inside for a while, mother, I have something to help your cough,” Lor said.

Aerin nearly gasped, Lor had sworn he had no parents, more than once!  This old flower seller was his mother.

He heard Lor's mother coughing, a deep and rasping sound issuing from her chest.

Lor’s voice was full of concern, “Mother, please come inside and lie down on the bed for awhile.”

Lor picked up the bucket of flowers, and they went up three steps and into the door of the building. Aerin heard the sound of a door opening and closing.

Aerin backed off to a better vantage point, further away, where he could watch the door, and have time to get away should Lor come out and head in his direction.  Some time later, he heard the door open and a young girl wearing a simple brown dress came out of the door and headed away down the street.  The distance was far, but Aerin thought she looked enough like Lor that she must be his sister.

“A mother and a sister,” Aerin thought.  Lor had more family than Aerin had ever dreamed.  He waited for a long time but Lor did not come out.  When it was nearing time to light the street lamps, Aerin went to meet Dono and tell him where to find Lor.  Dono was as surprised as Aerin had been that Lor had a mother and a sister.

That night Aerin went to Mara’s room and knocked.

“Yes?” her voice called from within.

“It’s Aerin.”

“I know that. Come in,” she replied.

When he opened the door, he saw Mara placing an old and yellowed document onto a pile of similarly aged papers.  Aerin noted that her eyes were uncharacteristically red and tired looking.

“I... I have a favor to ask,” he stammered.

“Indeed?  Well, out with it, I won’t bite,” replied Mara with a bit too much force.

Aerin paused a moment, “Is everything all right?”

Mara took a deep breath and recovered her emotions, the tension washed from her face, as she attempted to put away her own pain before the boy.

She swallowed, and then in a more normal voice said, “Everything is fine… this is just a bad time of year for me.”

“Is there anything I can do?” Aerin asked, and then flushed as he thought about how foolish his helping Mara sounded.

Mara managed a smile; “It’s just the ghosts of pain come to bother an old woman.  Never fear, it will pass.  Now I believe you were here to ask me something?”

Aerin looked away from her face and asked in a subdued voice, “I need to borrow some money.”

Mara’s expressive eyes looked suddenly inquisitive.  “How much do you need?”

Aerin considered; he hadn’t really thought that part through.  “Well, how much does a doctor cost for a house visit?”

Now Mara was intrigued, “Quite a bit, actually.  Who is sick?”

“I can’t tell you,” Aerin said in an agonized voice.

“I see, and yet you wish me to give you the money?”

“Yes, but I’ll pay it all back, once I find a job.”

She considered him for a moment, “A job... doing what?”

“I don’t know, cleaning stables, washing windows, sweeping floors, I can find something,” he explained quickly.

Mara shrugged, “If it means so much to you that you are willing to shovel horse manure, it must be important.  All right, here you are,” she said, fishing out a purse and extracted one fifty-mark coin and a twenty-penny.  “This should cover much more than a single doctor visit, but tell me, will this sick person accept your charity?”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Some people will not allow others to spend money on them; it can be a pride issue.”

Aerin considered, “I’ll think of something.”

Mara gave him an encouraging smile, “I’m sure you will.  If you need anything else, you let me know.  And don’t go looking for a job; I have plenty for you to do around here, so you can work this off that way.”

Aerin relaxed and said, “Thank you very much, Sen Mara, I will do anything you want.”

“All right then, for now, I had better get back to reading and I think you had better be getting to bed.”

Aerin nodded and looked down at the top of the document pile.  The words on the old documents were written in a bold flowing script.  Aerin read the top line of the page Mara had been reading, it said, “...pulsing out her life’s blood she will be the first to bond to the new NexLord.”

Mara noted where he was looking and in a suddenly stern voice said, “Is it your habit to read other people's documents without asking?”

Aerin cast his eyes down, “No, Sen Mara, I was just... I’m sorry.”

“Will there be anything else?”

“No, I’ll be going now,” he said sheepishly.

“Good, and ask Tocor to come in on your way to your room, I think you need a hard lesson tomorrow on courtesy.”

Aerin flushed, “Yes, Sen Mara.”

“Are you still here?”

“No,” Aerin said and fled the room.

Tocor arrived a few minutes later and entered Mara’s room.

“Young Aerin looked as if you had told him the Togroths were coming for him tonight,” the Quarian said in an amused tone.

Mara shrugged, “He needed a little shaking up, I caught him reading off the top of the stack there,” she said, pointing at the papers on her table.

“The Prophecy, I don’t suppose that would be too good for him at the moment.”

“No, I should say not,” Mara agreed.

Tocor looked over the page, “I see, this mention of the girl puzzles me, shouldn’t she be here by now?”

Mara nodded.  “Yes, she should, but don’t worry, I have seen her about.”

Tocor looked surprised and said, “And have I seen her?”

“Oh yes, I believe you have met her.”

Tocor looked puzzled as he replied, “All right, Mara, you can keep your secrets for the moment.  What about this part where it says he should be ready for the test at the youngest age ever?  Aerin is outpacing Gandarel at this point!  Your new NexLord is falling behind.”

Mara sighed, “Yes that is a problem.  Are you pushing him?”

“Yes and your ploy of rewarding Aerin ahead of Gandarel to that mythical second level did seem to have an effect.  Gandarel is studying twice as hard, but ploy or not, Aerin is ahead of Gandarel.”

“In weapon play?” Mara asked.

“Not at all, actually Gandarel has that edge, but in the most important aspects of control, yes, Aerin is much further along.  Doesn’t this go against the prophecy?”

“Actually, most of it is coming along fine.  My only concern is leadership; I thought for sure Gandarel would have risen to the apex of their group by now.  However, they all seem to be close, though Aerin seems more the glue than Gandarel.  Still, Aerin and Gandarel are as close as can be, so I’m not overly worried.  If nature doesn’t take its course soon, I may have to take a stronger hand and make that part come true.”

Tocor shook his head.  “I can’t believe how you manipulate this thing,” he said, tapping the stack of old paper.  “It won’t be much of a prophecy if you make it all come true by force.”

“Of course, it is; the more items in here that I make into facts, the more people will believe the rest will come true, and the more that believe the more power and momentum it gains; you know that.  What power does a prophecy have if everyone doesn’t believe it will come true?  Maybe I should change that part about...”

“Change it, you can’t change a prophecy!  That document is three hundred years old; you can’t just go adding lines and changing things at will.  People will notice… there are other copies... this is famous!”

“Of course, I can, I’ve done it before,” Mara said with a sly smile.

Tocor shook his head in disbelief.  “You have some nerve, don’t you, Mara?”

“Who, me?” she said, feigning innocence.  “I’m just a simple old woman.”

“Hah.”

Lor was not at the morning practice, though Aerin had little time to worry about his missing friend since Tocor had him in a sweat going round-robin with the other two boys in mixed weapons sparring.  Tocor even took the sand at one point, when Gandarel and Dono were too tired.  Aerin swiftly learned a little humility. The Quarian hardly seemed to breathe, let alone break a sweat as he dropped Aerin into the sand over and over again.

At last, Tocor gave a grunt of satisfaction, when Aerin completed a particularly difficult parry to stop yet another trip to the sand.  Aerin was near collapse and had Tocor struck once more he would have had no chance.

“All right, boy, I believe you are concentrating properly again.  That’s enough for now, though I might run you through some more practice this afternoon.”

Aerin knew not to groan or show any sign that he was anything but eager.  “I would look forward to more instruction, Sar Tocor,” he managed to say between gasps for breath.

Tocor paused a moment and then nodded, “But I think I have some business I will have to take care of instead.  We will take it up tomorrow morning; don’t be late.  And find Lor; he has had plenty of time to get over his snit.”

Gandarel came over when the large Quarian strode out of the courtyard.

“Wow, he had it in for you today.  What did you do, put a rat in his bed?” Gandarel said with a ferocious grin.

Aerin still stood hunched over with his hands on his thighs to keep steady.  He was too tired to find the energy to sit down.  “I read a paper on Mara’s desk, something she was studying.”

“Without permission, I assume,” noted Gandarel.

Aerin shrugged.

“And… what did it say?

Aerin shuffled his feet.

“Stop shuffling your feet and tell me, am I not your best friend?” Gandarel exclaimed.

“I can’t, it was wrong of me to read Mara’s document, and it certainly isn’t right for me to tell anyone what it said.”

Gandarel gave Aerin a look reminiscent of thunderclouds.

“All right, don’t look at me like that!  I won’t tell you what I read exactly, but I will tell you…” Aerin paused dramatically and spoke in a conspirator’s whisper, “it looked like some kind of prophecy!”

“Prophecy, ug, and here I thought it was going to be something exciting!” Gandarel said in distaste.

Aerin was taken aback by Gandarel’s reaction.  “You don’t care?”

“Listen, my teachers at the Seat are always waving this prophecy, that prediction, this decree, that demand, at me. Sheesh, I hate those things.  Prophecy, that’s just one more way of saying ‘this is what you have to do’,” Gandarel shook in feigned disgust.

Aerin looked so disappointed that Gandarel decided to give in a little.

“Still,” Gandarel said and put on a thoughtful look, “it could be interesting to see which prophecy the old witch is interested in reading.”

“Old witch, I will not hear you talk about Mara that way,” Aerin said with a scowl.

Gandarel grinned, “Well, she is old…”

“That is no reason to call her a witch!”

“And she does read some strange prophecy.  Come to think of it, there are a lot of odd things about her,” Gandarel said, this time not in jest.

“Like what?” Aerin demanded.

“Well, how does an old woman know so much about fighting?  How come she has a Quarian and a Willowman as friends?  How did she stop that Deglick thing that came to the Seat? How does an old woman beat a thug in a bar room brawl?  There is something strange about her, don’t you agree?”

“Well yes, I suppose so.”

“And so, she is a witch!” Gandarel said as if closing a box.

Aerin shook his head.  “I agree right up to the part about the witch.  I haven’t seen her do any magic.”

“Haven’t you?”

“No.”

“Well, you just watch… one day, POOF, you’re going to be a toad,” Gandarel said playfully.

“You are being ridiculous.”

“Well if she isn’t a witch then that prophecy she has will not be anything magical, will it?”

“No, it is just writing,” agreed Aerin.

“Fine, we will take a look at it and then we will see.”

Aerin looked fearful, “Did you see what happened to me when I read just one line?  If she is a witch she would certainly turn us both into toads for reading the whole thing.”

Gandarel looked smug, “See; now you think she is a witch.”

“I do not, that was just a joke!”

“But she has already turned you into something,” Gandarel pointed out.

Aerin looked at him quizzically.

“A chicken!” Gandarel exclaimed.

Aerin tried to swat him with the practice sword he was holding, but Gandarel danced away laughing.

“Come on, Chicken-boy, too afraid to see some old papers?”

“No, I’m just too smart to cross Mara.”

“Fine then, but she’s still a witch and you’re still a Chicken-boy,” he laughed.

Too tired to care, Aerin finally quit chasing him and just laughed.  “Gandarel, sometimes I wonder why I put up with you.”

“Charm, good looks, brains, or is it my money?” he asked.  “Stop me if I get carried away.”

“Stop then, you were carried away from the beginning,” Aerin admonished.

Gandarel continued to laugh as he left the yard, with his two Guardsmen taking up positions from where they had been waiting at the gate.  “See ya later, Chicken-boy!”

Aerin shook his head good-naturedly at his friend’s antics.

After he recovered from practice, Aerin told Tocor he was going out to buy something in the city.  When he arrived at the street where Lor’s mother sat selling her flowers, he watched for a time to make sure she was alone.  Eventually, he got up enough courage to go over and talk to her.

“Good day,” he said in greeting.

She smiled up with unseeing eyes, her face orienting on the sound of his voice.  Aerin swallowed hard, he hadn’t realized she was blind.

“Buy some flowers, Sar?” she asked, holding up a somewhat wilted flower.

“Yes, I’d like that,” Aerin answered quietly.

“Penny a flower, or a Baker’s dozen for twelve pence,” she offered.  “You can pick them out yourself.”

“All right, I’ll look them over,” Aerin said, though he made no move to look at the wooden bucket that held the flowers.  “I’ve seen you here before, selling flowers,” he said, trying to start a conversation.

“Yes, I’m here every day, so if you ever need flowers you know where to find me,” she added brightly, but the effort started her coughing, and Aerin had to wait a few moments for her bout to subside.

“My apologies, Sar, I have a bit of a cough,” she explained.

“If I may ask… how long have you been ill?” he inquired.

“Well, let’s see... I think it started just before my daughter’s thirteenth birthday,” that would make it about a year and two months.”

Aerin’s voice caught in his throat as he tried to reply, “You have been sick for more than a year?”

The old woman caught the sound of his voice, “It’s all right, Sar, I’m sure I’ll be getting well soon.”

“You should see a doctor about that cough, they might be able to help,” Aerin suggested.

The old woman smiled, “I’m just a poor woman, Sar, I’ll heal up on my own soon, I’m sure.”

“Well, I want you to think about seeing a doctor. I can bring one here, so you wouldn’t even have to go anywhere.”

A look of fear came over the woman’s face, “Please, Sar, I don’t have the money for that!”

“Well just think about it.  Besides, there is a friend of mine who loves to get flowers, so I will be buying quite a few from you over the next few days.”

“You are kind, Sar, you sound very young for a man of means.”

“Everyone tells me that, it must be my voice.  Well here is your payment, please keep the change,” Aerin said and took one of her hands in his so he could place the coins in her palm.

“Thank you, Sar, and I appreciate your stopping to talk to an old woman.”

“It is my pleasure.”

“Wait, you forgot your flowers!” she exclaimed.

Aerin took the worst looking flower he could see.  “There, I picked out what I want.  Perhaps I’ll see you here tomorrow?”

“I’ll be here, with more flowers, if you need them.”

“Well then, it is a date!” Aerin said as he left.

The next day Aerin returned and found Lor’s mother back on her stool.

“Good day!” he said in greeting.

She remembered his voice.

“It’s the young sounding master, come back to see Renda about more flowers.  Good day to you, Sar, though I am cross with you!” she said, her happy tone belying her words.

Aerin was puzzled, “What did I do wrong?”

Renda smiled, “Well, you paid far too much, my daughter nearly choked when I gave her the coins.  Then you didn’t even take your flowers!  I will not take charity, young man!” she explained with her playful tone a little sterner at the end.

“I did take a flower,” he replied.

“But you paid for more than the entire bucket, you shall take them today,” she decided and then started to cough again.

“Please, Renda, let me call a physician to see to your cough,” Aerin pleaded.

“I’m fine, but don’t you try to change the subject, you will take the flowers!” she said, shaking an old crooked finger in his general direction.

Aerin fished out more coins, “I will, but I will have to pay a little more if I am going to take them all.  It must take you some time to collect all these fine flowers.”

“I couldn’t take a penny more,” she said firmly.

“Then I cannot take the flowers,” Aerin countered.

Renda hesitated a moment, “All right, but you must promise to take all the flowers in my bucket.”

“Done,” Aerin agreed and placed twice as much money into her hand as he had done the day before.  He gathered the flowers up and noticed that they were of much higher quality than previously.

“You have gotten new flowers!” he exclaimed.

She nodded, “Yes, my daughter brought them this morning; she tells me they are quite pretty.  Smell how fresh they are.  Since I did so well yesterday, she thought I had better have some new ones today.”

“Well these are far too nice for what I have paid,” Aerin exclaimed.

“Nonsense, a deal is a deal,” Renda said firmly.

“All right, you win, but see a doctor about that cough or I might not be able to buy flowers from you tomorrow!”

“Perhaps, we’ll see,” answered Renda.

Aerin left with his flowers, wondering what to do with them.

When he got back to the courtyard he had an idea.  Perhaps he could cheer up Mara with the flowers.  He immediately headed for her room.  During the past day he had not seen her, she had been missing from their morning practice for one of the few times since the beginning.

“Mara?” he said, standing outside her door after he had knocked twice.

“What is it... have the Togroths attacked or something?” she said in a gruff voice.

Aerin shook his head, before realizing she couldn’t see that gesture through the closed door, “No, Mara.”

Her voice sounded irritated.  “Then don’t disturb me.”

He almost left, but he thought the flowers might cheer her up, so he called out tentatively, “But, I have something for you.”

After a pause, he heard stirring in the room.  “All right, but this had better be good.  If you have brought me a frog or something, I’m going to roast you over a slow fire.”

The door finally opened and Aerin looked into the dim room.  Mara’s eyes looked even redder than the last time he had seen them.  Her long hair was down.  Aerin noted that unbound her hair seemed darker, hardly gray at all.  She wore a large robe pulled in tight around her shoulders.

“What are you staring at?” she growled.

“Nothing,” he answered, casting his eyes down.

“Well, why have you come to disturb me?”

Aerin reached down and to the left of the door, where he had put the flowers out of sight.  “I bought you these,” he said, apologetically.

Mara’s voice stopped, mid growl, “You bought me… flowers?” she asked with a strange tone in her voice.

“Yes, I thought you would like them, but if…”

“Aerin, I can’t even remember the last time a young man brought me flowers, in fact, I don’t believe I remember any young man ever bringing me flowers... thank you!” her face lit up with a smile that warmed Aerin’s heart.

Suddenly Mara turned her back to him and wiped at her eyes with the back of her hands.  After a moment, she went to the trunk in the corner.  “I’ll have to find something to put them in, they will need water.”  She busied herself in the trunk with her back to Aerin.  “Why don’t you go fetch me a bucket of water?” she asked.

Aerin put the flowers on the table and went to do as she asked.

When he returned with the water Mara was arranging the flowers in a water pitcher.  “This is the best I could do, but even so, they are lovely,” she said with a smile.

“Here is the water,” he told her, unnecessarily.

Mara smiled, “I can see that, bring it here.”

After pouring some of the water into the pitcher, Mara set the bucket on the floor and sat down on the edge of the bed.

“Thank you, Aerin, for brightening an otherwise dismal day.” At his look she continued, “No, don’t ask, to talk about it would only make it hurt again, but don’t you worry, this too will pass.”

Aerin nodded.

Mara patted the bed beside her so Aerin sat down.

When the boy was next to her she put her arm around him and just sat for a time.  Her eyes were far away in some other time and place.  After awhile she spoke softly, “Aerin, I have been preparing you.  What I have in store for you is a great burden, and I realize that I haven’t really given you any choice.  I have been driven by a great need, but this has caused me to steal something from you.”

“Steal?” he inquired, not understanding.

“Yes, I’ve stolen your childhood, and I’m taking away your chance at a normal and happy life.”

Aerin looked up at her troubled face, “But, Mara, I’m happy with you.”

She looked at the boy and smiled, “And I love you, Aerin, but just because we love someone doesn’t mean we can’t hurt them.  In fact, only someone you love can cut deep enough to reach your soul.  Believe me, I know.”

“I don’t understand, Mara,” he said in a whisper.

“No, I suppose you don’t.  Aerin, where do you think all this teaching is going?”

Aerin considered for a moment, as was true of most boys his age, he had not really thought much into the future.  “I guess we are learning to fight so we can be ready to face the Togroths.”

“There is more to it than that,” Mara said gently.  “You can figure it out if you think about Gandarel.”

“Gandarel?” Aerin said in question, and then he saw it.  “Gandarel is going to be the new NexLord!”

Mara nodded and watched his face; she could almost see the connections being made, as his expression went through a host of changes.

“And he needs bondsmen to fight with him, like Juman, Hazlerfeld, Kor, and Sethra!”

Mara’s voice was a whisper that could barely be heard, “Yes.”

“And you are preparing me to be a bondsman?”

“Yes, I’m sorry.”

“SORRY, but, Mara, this is the grandest thing I could ever have imagined!”

Mara shook her head, “It is a terrible burden I place upon you, remember what happened to the bondsmen you mentioned.”

“They got to fight beside the great Ragol!” Aerin replied.

Mara shook her head, “They got to die for Ragol.”

“But they saved the world, and that is a worthy death!" Aerin exclaimed.

“There is no such thing as a worthy death, only a worthy life.  When the time comes that you realize what it is I have done to you, please take pity on me, and remember that I warned you,” Mara told him.  “It is a sorry thing I do to a boy so kind as to bring a grieving woman flowers.”

Aerin wondered for whom she grieved and then thought to cheer her up by saying, “I will always love and respect you, Mara.”

She smiled wanly, “Will you, Aerin?  If I told you the terrible things I have done to those others in life who have loved me, would you still care?  Would you still be my friend?”

“Yes, there is no doubt in me,” Aerin replied.

Mara hugged him to her.

“I would die for you, Mara,” Aerin told her sincerely.

She stiffened as if a blade had been thrust through her.  “Don’t say that to me, Aerin, don’t ever say those words lest you be caught and destroyed.  Promise me, you will never say that to me again!” she grabbed him forcefully by the shoulders and looked into his eyes to measure the sincerity of his response.

“All right, Mara, if it is that important to you.  I just wanted you to know how much I cared.”

She pulled him into a tight embrace and he felt her shaking with tears, “I know, boy, I know.”

The night of the Freedom day celebration, Aerin pushed his way through the crowd on his way to meet with Dono.  People were thick in the streets wearing their costumes and masks.  Tonight was the night Dono thought Lor might attempt to break into the Merchant Master’s Villa.

Aerin finally arrived at the corner outside the abandoned building, where the day before Dono had followed Lor to his stash of burglary tools.  They figured Lor would have to come here before the night crawl started.

Dono was nowhere in sight, so Aerin stepped into the shadow of an alley to wait.  The dark tight fitting clothing he wore made him part of the shadows.

Aerin felt a stab of guilt as he realized it was his friend Lor who had taught him how to move about the city unseen.  He reassured himself with the thought that he was here to stop Lor from making a big mistake.

Across the street and up the block, Lor stepped out of the building doorway.  He also wore dark clothing and carried a dark bag over his shoulder containing tools.

“Where are you, Dono?” Aerin whispered under his breath.  It took all of Aerin’s training to hold still in the shadows when Lor looked his direction.  Lor had once explained to Aerin that at night it was movement which caught the eye, not shape.

As Lor headed for the nearby alley to climb to the High Road, Aerin took one last desperate look for Dono, but the red-headed boy was nowhere in sight.  With a heavy sigh, Aerin started up the nearby drainpipe, climbing alone into the night to follow his friend.  He still didn’t know how he was going to stop Lor, but he knew he had to do something.

Aerin thought of various wild plans, as he followed his friend across the rooftops.  He would tackle Lor at a convenient spot and beat the insanity out of him.  Or, he would catch up and then threaten to call the Guardsmen on Lor if he entered the Merchant Master’s Villa.  The problem with these, and other plans, was obvious to Aerin, Lor would just rob the merchant on a different night, being careful to make sure no one was following him next time.

Before long Lor reached the merchant quarter, and quick as thought, he descended halfway down a building and then leaped onto the top of the guard wall that surrounded the Merchant Master’s Villa.  Aerin took considerably more time navigating down the building and reaching the wall.  By the time he was on top of the wall he feared he might have lost too much ground, he couldn’t even see which way Lor had gone.

Aerin leaned down to study the top of the wall in the dim moonlight, looking for scuffs in the moss to help him see which direction Lor had traveled.  He heard the snap of a small branch and instantly fell forward onto his hands.  He lowered himself quietly onto his stomach along the top of the wall so as to present the least visual target.  A strange sound of bushes rustling and water dripping started nearby.

Slowly, so that he barely seemed to move at all, Aerin rotated his head so he could look toward the sound.  A guard on patrol inside the merchant’s grounds stood a few feet away relieving himself on a bush. A few moments later he was finished and moved away back toward the path where he did his rounds.  Aerin finally breathed again.  From his nose-to-stone position, he noted a scuff mark and knew which direction his friend had gone.

As Aerin moved along the top of the wall he soon came closer to the actual main building of the Villa.  He slowed while listening and watching for signs of guards.  Just as he was nearing a large tree, whose branches spanned all the way from the wall to the main building, Aerin noticed movement on the roof of the three-story mansion.  He froze in position on the wall.

High above he saw Lor lower himself from the overhanging eve of the roof.  Lor held onto the rain gutter until he hung by his hands, dangling above the long drop.  Lor swung around so that he now faced out from the building.  Next, he bent at the waist and brought his legs up until the tops of his feet hooked over the top of the rain gutter.  Aerin’s heart leaped into his throat as he saw his friend’s hands release their hold so that he was hanging from the high rooftop held only by the tops of his feet.

Lor extracted a thin metal tool and then, hanging from his bat-like perch, inserted it between the shutters of the closed window in front of him and tripped the latch.  As precarious as his hanging position seemed, Aerin was amazed to see Lor remove an oil can and take the time to drip oil into the hinges of the shutters before slowing pulling them open.  With a graceful swing, Lor transferred his weight off his feet and onto his hands, where they were placed on top of the two open shutters. He swung himself down off the roof and into the room below.  Just after he was clear, a guard sauntered around the corner of the building and walked slowly across the stone patio below the open window.

Aerin waited for the guard to move out of sight around the corner of the Villa, before climbing onto the thick tree branch that stretched over the wall.  Once up he stood and followed it to the main trunk, then picked a good branch and climbed up until he was slightly above the roof of the main building.  He dropped to the roof, with a small thump, and then paused to listen in case anyone had heard him and given the alarm, but all seemed quiet.

He felt his heart pounding, like a smith's hammer, when he hung down from the rain gutter at the window Lor had left open.  He couldn't talk himself into hanging by his feet, as Lor had done, so he tried to catch the top edge of a shutter with his foot.  Attempting to put his weight onto the shutter caused it to move, and he lost it again.  With his hands starting to sweat, Aerin decided he was going to have to do something quick.  He started his body swinging with the thought that he would just let loose and swing into the room below.  He swung twice, to make sure he had enough velocity to carry him in through the opening, then let loose.  He hadn’t counted on his body continuing to rotate, and so he found that he was flying into the dark room below with his feet coming up into the air.  He tried to twist, like a cat, to keep himself from landing on the windowsill and breaking his back but found himself only halfway around when he struck.  There was a moment of pain and panic, as he tried to keep himself from falling out the opening, but he lost the battle and started to pitch headfirst out the window.

A hand grabbed the top of his trousers from behind and stopped his progress, nearly yanking his pants off his body.

A moment later, he was hauled into the room and found himself on his back, the wind knocked out of him from the impact on the windowsill.  Lor’s frown etched face looked down into Aerin’s.

“What are you doing?” Lor hissed in a quiet, yet forceful voice.

Aerin opened his mouth, but he still didn’t have any breath to fuel his voice, so his lips moved without sound.

“What’s wrong with you?” Lor demanded.

Aerin finally gasped in a breath, as air returned to his empty lungs.

“I landed on the windowsill,” he explained in a gasp.

Lor’s frown deepened, and he hissed, “I know that now keep it down, or the guards will be all over us!  I asked what you think you are doing following me!”

Aerin rubbed at his sore side, and answered in a quieter voice, “You asked what I was doing and if I was all right.”

“Yes, and if you don’t hurry up and tell me, I’m going to pitch you back out that window!”

“I’m following you.”

“Did you strike your head?  I figured that out, now tell me why?”

“You’re here to rob the Merchant Master, I came to stop you,” Aerin finally said, blurting it out.

Lor was speechless for a moment, and then he released Aerin’s shirt and stood up.

Aerin got to his feet.

Then Lor turned on him, poking a finger into his chest, as he whispered, “You listen to me close, what I do is my own business.  I’m your friend, Aerin, but that doesn’t mean I have to explain myself to you.  Now get back out that window and leave me to my business.”

Aerin took a deep breath and steadied his resolve.  “I can’t do that.”

“By the Dreadmaster, you CAN!  Do you know what they do to thieves if they get caught? They brand them… or worse.  Now get out of here before you get me caught and they think you are part of it!”

“I’m not climbing back out that window for two reasons,” Aerin replied.  “First of all, I am not going to let you do this, and second, I don’t think I could make it to the roof anyway,” he added in a rueful voice, trying to break the tension between them.

Lor looked at him in disgust for a moment, but his features finally softened.  “You probably would fall, though I doubt you could break anything in that bonehead of yours.  Fine, I’ll get you out on the ground floor.  Follow me, and for Ragol’s sake, keep quiet!”

Aerin crossed his arms and didn’t make a move to follow Lor.

Lor stopped, frowned and came back to whisper range.  “What are you waiting for, the return of the King?  Come on!”

Aerin shook his head, “I’m not leaving without you.”

Lor threw his hands in the air and actually stomped around in a circle.

Aerin noted that it is hard to stomp without making any sounds, but Lor managed somehow.

“YES, you ARE!” he exclaimed, actually breaking his whisper for a moment, before realizing the volume of his voice.

Aerin spoke in a simple whisper, “No, I’m not.”

Lor grabbed Aerin by his tunic and tried to pull him along, but Aerin used one of the arm sweeps they had been taught in hand-to-hand combat and knocked Lor’s hand free.

Lor scowled so deeply his eyes nearly shut.  “What are you going to do now, fight me in the Merchant Master’s bedroom?”

“If I have to.”

“Do you understand that we’ll both be caught?  They won’t hesitate; punishment for being caught red handed is administered immediately.”

“Yes, I know.”

Lor reached up and pulled his own hair in frustration.  After a moment of gritted teeth, he relaxed and said, “Fine, do what you want.  I have business to take care of, so you just keep quiet.”

With that, Lor turned and headed for a chest of drawers while pulling a cloth sack from his pocket.

Aerin stood where Lor had left him, unsure of how to stop his friend without calling the guards down on them.  He moved over and tried to talk Lor out of it, but Lor kept rifling the drawers in a quick and efficient manner.

“Lor, this is wrong.  There are other ways to solve whatever problems you have.”

“It is none of your business.”

“Yes it is, you are my friend, and so whatever problems you have I’m here to help.”

“If that were true you would get your sorry ass out of here.”

“I can’t do that, not until you see that this isn’t right.”

“That’s where you are wrong, this guy is so rich he won’t miss any of this, but it could be life…” Lor stopped himself, “…it could be important to my life,” he amended, lamely.

“I understand, Lor, believe me, I do, but there are other ways.  Let’s get out of here and we can figure out a solution together.”

“Excuse me, I need to get to that cabinet,” was all Lor said, having finished with the drawers.

Aerin moved to the side with a sigh.  It was obvious that Lor’s mind was made up, and Aerin couldn’t tell him he knew about Lor’s mother and sister, without admitting he was spying on his friend.  Suddenly, Aerin had a new idea.

He went to the bed and pulled down the cover and then removed the top sheet.

Lor looked over at him for a moment in puzzlement.

Aerin tied the sheet into a makeshift bag, and moved over and knelt by a chest on the other side of the room.

Lor came over and stopped above him before whispering, “What, exactly, do you think you are doing?”

“Stealing stuff,” Aerin replied, putting a silver picture frame he found into his bag.

If Lor’s voice had been angry before, now he breathed fire, “You will stop that nonsense, immediately!  I will not have you branded a thief on my account!”

Aerin stopped for a moment and looked up at Lor, “Look, as you so aptly put it a few minutes ago, what I do is my own business.  I’m your friend, but I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

“I see what you are up to; you think if you start stealing that I will quit just to stop you. Fine… rob away, thief!”

With that, Lor spun around and stalked out to another room.

Aerin paused a moment, Lor was right.  He had been hoping that Lor would leave with him if he started to steal.  Aerin considered what his friend was going through, his mother was sick and blind. He had a sister to support, and all he knew Aerin was doing was trying to stop him from accomplishing the only thing he could think of to help his family.  Aerin felt ashamed.

He started going through the trunk in earnest.

After a few minutes, Aerin had checked the rest of the room and followed Lor out to the dining room, where they lifted the various silver plates, eating utensils and crystal goblets.  Neither of them spoke.

Lor finally looked at Aerin and said, “All right, it is time we got out of here, we’ve been pushing our luck for some time.”

Aerin nodded and followed Lor to one of the side doors.

“I had intended to leave using the tree again, but I don’t think you can get to the roof without making a ruckus.  We’re going to have to sneak out between guard rounds, and find a way up over the wall.”

Aerin nodded and then he knotted up his sheet and slung it over his shoulder.

With a look at his eyes, Lor checked and saw that he was ready.  He eased the door open a crack to check the patio and path that led from the door.  They had to cross the patio and enter a patch of grass before reaching the shrubbery area along the wall; it seemed clear.

The two young thieves slipped out the door and scampered across the openly exposed patio.  Aerin’s bag of bootie thumped against his back and the silver pieces inside clanked.

Lor looked over his shoulder, with big eyes of reproach, but they kept going.

They reached the shrubs and wound their way through the thick bushes into a small clearing at the inside edge of the wall surrounding the Merchant Master’s property.  Aerin looked up at the wall, estimating it to be twice his height.  Lor dropped his sack and made a saddle for Aerin's foot by interlacing his fingers, so he could give him a boost.

“I don’t think that will do it,” Aerin whispered.

“It will if you stand on my shoulders; now get a move on!”

Aerin hesitated, “You’re lighter than me, so you should stand on my shoulders.”

Lor looked up at him in exasperation, “And how are YOU going to get to the top of the wall after I am up?”

“I could say the same for you,” Aerin replied.

“Trust me when I say I can get there without you, now are we going to pitch a tent here, or are you going to get off your fat ass before the guards find us?”

Aerin stepped into Lor’s hands and up onto his shoulders.  He could just reach the top of the wall with his outstretched hands.  He pulled himself up and managed to swing a foot onto the top.  As soon as he was steady, Lor gave a short, quiet whistle to get his attention, then his bag full of loot was tossed up.  Aerin grabbed it and set it gently on the top of the wall.  He turned to take a look back down for his friend.

Lor’s sack was designed to act as a sling, and he had it slung across his back to leave his hands and arms free.  He was just considering whether it was worth the time to remove it and toss it up to Aerin when he felt the hard grip of a hand grab him by the shoulder.

Aerin looked down just in time to see the guard grab Lor.  The man had a cudgel in his right hand and Lor’s shoulder grasped in his left.  Aerin didn’t even hesitate, he jumped.  He still held the knot of his bag so he and the bag landed behind Lor and the guard.  At the sound of the thump and clank that signaled his arrival, the guard aborted his strike to Lor’s head with his cudgel, in order to see what was behind him.

Aerin used all his strength and swung the knotted sheet around in an arc that struck the guard on the shoulder and side of his head.

At the same time, Lor twisted out of the guard’s loosening grip, spun on his heel to add momentum, and slammed his bony elbow deep into the guard’s gut.  With a 'woof' of escaping air, the guard doubled over and dropped his cudgel to the dirt.

Aerin shoved the guard and he staggered forward, banging his head on the solid wall.

Lor jumped behind the dazed, bent over guard, and clasped his hands together again; signaling to Aerin he was ready to give him another boost.

Aerin got the idea and dropped his bag. With quick acceleration, he stepped into Lor’s hands and then onto the guard’s back and vaulted up to grab the top of the wall.  This time, he had barely got on top when his bag of loot struck him, nearly knocking him off the other side of the wall.

He recovered just in time to see Lor vault off a rock, kick off the trunk of a tree and launch upwards to grab a wrist thick tree branch. He continued his momentum with a swing that brought him around in an arc toward the wall.  He released at the height of his swing, flipped and landed cat-like on the wall.  With a grin at Aerin, he added, “Care to follow me?” then dashed off down the wall toward the buildings of the city, where they had originally arrived.

Aerin scooped up his bag and ran after his friend, laughing.

Behind them, they heard the whistles of guards sounding the alarm, but once they reached the safety of the roofs there was little danger anyone could follow them.  They had escaped.

A few minutes later, panting for breath, the two youngsters reached a place of relative safety. It was out of sight and high above the city below.  They stopped and sat down to catch their breath.  Aerin looked at the red-cheeked Lor and started to laugh.

“I can’t believe you had me vault off that poor guard’s back!  I’ll bet he’s so mad right now he could eat shoe leather!”

Lor grinned, “I had to get you some kind of boost; after all I had already gotten you up there once!  You are too fat to lift a second time.”

“FAT, I am not!  Besides, you should be thanking me; you would have a knot the size of a goose egg on your head by now if he had landed that cudgel blow.”

“True, but I wouldn’t have been caught at all if you hadn’t decided to become a thief tonight,” Lor pointed out.  “So I’ll just keep my thanks to myself.”

Aerin paused and the smile faded from his lips.  He sighed and pushed his bag over to Lor.  “You don’t have to tell me what is so important that you had to steal, but if it was that important you can use this as well.  I don’t believe in stealing, Lor, it is wrong, no matter what the case, but you are my friend and I would enter the Dreadmaster’s palace itself if you needed me.”

Lor looked down, ashamed.  “Aerin, I…”

Aerin shook his head, “No, you don’t have to tell me anything, but promise me that next time you are in trouble and you need money you will ask me for help.  If there is no other way, then I’ll help you do whatever you need, but if I am going to be your friend then I should be able to offer my help to you.  It’s not charity I offer, it’s friendship.”

Lor nodded.

Aerin stood.  “Now I have to be going, Mara is going to skin me alive as it is.  If she finds out I have turned into a thief, well, I don’t think I want to live.”

Lor nodded, lost in the words Aerin had spoken.

After Aerin was gone, Lor looked at the two bags of loot and sighed.  He picked them up and headed in a direction that would have puzzled Aerin.

Aerin’s eyes flew open and he knew he was caught.  Someone was pounding on his door; it had to be the guard.  Wracked with guilt, Aerin went to his door to face the charges.  He yanked the door open, only to find Tocor standing there with his black-gloved hand still raised, and Mara standing a pace behind him and leaning on her cane.

“My,” Mara said to Tocor, “he looks rather bruised.  Has he been dreaming when he should be dodging in weapon practice?”

Aerin looked down at his bare stomach and chest; he was only wearing a pair of shorts.  There were some angry black and blue marks where he had landed on the windowsill the night before.

“I fell down,” he explained without imagination.

Mara entered his room, “So I see, rather clumsy of you.  Now, boy, I have a few questions for you.  I noticed you came in pretty late last night.”

“I told Tocor I would be out,” Aerin defended quickly, his guilty thoughts making him nervous.

A look passed between Tocor and Mara that Aerin couldn’t read.

“Yes, I know.  I’ve heard, just this morning, about some interesting developments in the merchant’s quarter last night.”

Aerin’s eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets, and he knew he was dead.

“Seems there was some sort of break in at the Merchant Master’s Villa,” Mara continued while watching Aerin.  “A guard was assaulted, though I believe he hurt his dignity more than his body, certainly he had fewer bruises than your little falling down mishap seems to have brought you.”

Aerin just watched her; he knew she would close the trap eventually, so he waited resignedly for the question.  He already knew he couldn’t lie to Mara.

“It was a very strange affair.  It seems someone entered the Merchant Master’s Villa via the roof, quite a feat to swing in the open window, I would imagine.  Someone could get... bruised, doing that.  The miscreants messed up his bed and removed many valuable objects.  Now this isn’t all that interesting, thieves are a common nuisance in a city this large.”

Aerin continued to wait for the Headsman’s ax to fall.

“However, I hear tell that the two diminutive rascals managed to disarm the guard that tried to apprehend them, even using him as a footstool to mount the wall.  Then they made a spectacular escape over the rooftops of the city, confounding all pursuit with their inordinate skill.  But what puzzled the authorities is that after the two successful young hoodlums escaped cleanly, they returned all the stolen goods to the front gate of the Merchant Master and actually rang the bell to call the guards.  It’s simply amazing.  Don’t you find them amazing, Tocor?” Mara asked him conversationally.

“Very,” he rumbled in reply.

“Yes,” Mara continued, “how about you, Aerin?  Don’t you find the whole affair quite puzzling and amazing, all at the same time?”

Aerin was still trying to grasp the last part of the story; he had hardly been listening as he contemplated his, soon to be, miserable fate.  At the mention of the returned goods, Aerin had nearly choked in surprise.  After a moment to recover his wits, Aerin swallowed and then couldn’t look Mara in the eye as he finally replied, “Yes, Sen Mara, very amazing.”

“I just hope that the two young rascals have learned their lesson so that harder lessons need not be applied.”

Aerin nodded, “I’m sure they have, I’m very positive.”

“That’s good.  Now I think you will have to skip morning practice today; those bruises need a chance to heal.  Come along, Tocor, I need to go to the Merchant Quarter, such interesting things happen there.”

With that Mara and Tocor left a dumbfounded Aerin sitting on the edge of his bed.  Aerin tried to puzzle out what had just happened, she knew, and he knew she knew he knew she knew, but oh bother… all that really mattered was that she hadn’t killed him.  He remembered her words from a few years ago… I always know more than you think.

Chapter Seven

"In rescue will truth be revealed, and in flight a friend found."

- From the Prophecies of Gold

Dono picked up Lor’s trail the next morning and followed his friend through the city.  He wasn’t looking forward to explaining to Aerin why he had missed the rendezvous the night before, but he hoped to make up for it by getting back on the job this morning.  He noted that Lor seemed focused this morning, he moved across the rooftops with speed and purpose.  It wasn’t until they crossed near the third street market that Dono grew nervous.  They were entering that nebulous neutral zone, and soon they would be in the Skull’s streets.  When Lor suddenly descended to street level, Dono stopped on the roof of a church and observed from behind a corner gargoyle.

Dono sucked in a breath when he saw the rascal, Berver, step out of the alley and accost Lor.  Instead of speeding off, Dono noted that Lor actually moved forward to talk to the little dung lover. When Berver moved off into the alley, Lor stayed and sat on a stack of boxes, while obviously waiting for Berver to fetch more of the Skulls. Dono knew something serious was afoot.  He mentally calculated the trip to Mara’s and concluded he could manage it in less than ten minutes, if he really pushed, so he pushed.

Dono seldom moved at the full speed of which he was capable while on the roofs.  In many ways, he was nearly the equal of Lor when it came to knowing the High Road, and today he used every trick he knew.  It wasn’t until he actually saw Aerin warming up in the practice sand, that he made a mistake.  He descended from the roof at too great a speed and landed with a little too much momentum.  His ankle gave out and he went down, rolling across the ground nearly to Aerin’s feet.

“DONO, whoa, that’s one way to say hello, I suppose!” Aerin noted with a smile.

Dono gripped his twisted ankle in pain but spoke a moment later.  “It’s Lor; he’s gone to meet with the Skulls.”

“What!” Aerin exclaimed.

Dono quickly relayed where and what he had seen.

Aerin looked for Gandarel, but it was too early for his friend to have arrived.

“I’m going over there!” Aerin decided.

Dono tried to get up, but nearly fell again when he tried to put weight on his sprained ankle.

“You just wait here, I’ll see to Lor.  Send Gandarel when he arrives,” Aerin ordered as he grabbed a quarterstaff and swarmed up the side of their building to the rooftops.

As Aerin leaped the gaps between buildings, at reckless speeds, his mind worked.  He couldn't understand why Lor would step into the lion's den voluntarily.  From personal experience, Aerin knew how hard Lor had worked to stay out of the Skull's grip.  It didn't make sense, at least not until Aerin put it together with Lor's recent mood change and his sudden return to thievery.  Aerin suddenly wondered if the break in at the Merchant Master's Villa had more to do with the Skulls, and not his mother's waning health.  Aerin figured that they had something held over Lor, but what that was he had no idea.

Aerin reached the entranceway to the alley where Dono had last seen Lor, but there was no sight of him.  Aerin leaped the gap at the narrowest part of the street without a thought, something that would have scared him out of ten years of life prior to Lor's instructions in the art of the High Road.

As he ran along the edge of the building, looking down into the alley below, Aerin finally saw a large group of boys up ahead.

By Gedin’s beard, it looks like the whole Skull’s gang, thought Aerin.

When he reached the roof, just above the group of boys, Aerin knelt down by the edge, looking for a place to descend.

Just then, a large boy grabbed Lor by the front of his shirt and pulled him close, while he yelled in Lor's face.  "I'll ask you again, WHERE IS THE LOOT!"

Lor's hand went above the other boy's arm as if to start prying it loose, but instead of grabbing the boy’s arm he slammed the heel of his hand into his assailant's throat.

"Don't touch me," Lor hissed.

The large boy released him, staggering back and choking.

Aerin didn't like where this was going, his eyes desperately searched for an easy way down.  In the alley, two boys tried to grab Lor by the arms, but he dove forward and did a somersault over his right shoulder, and then came to his feet in a crouch.

"I told you, the deal is off!"  Lor exclaimed.

"It's too late for that, Lor; remember you came to us looking for a good hit and a fence.  Now you will have to deliver the goods," another Skulls boy answered.

Aerin saw the old drain pipe near Lor; it was obvious that Lor was maneuvering in that direction, so he could make his escape to the roofs.  Aerin had just decided to make a slight disturbance to give Lor his chance when one of the boys behind Lor tried to grab him.

Lor elbowed him in the stomach and then slammed the back of his head into the boy's nose.  Blood immediately splattered the boy's chin, as his ruined nose bled profusely.

It was the sight of blood that triggered the mass attack.

Lor fought with all his skill and training, he spun, kicked and kept moving constantly, but he was unarmed and there were just too many of them.  A hand managed to grab the collar of his shirt, so Lor twisted to get out of his assailant's grasp. His shirt tore, setting him momentarily free, but that slight delay allowed one of the other boys to strike Lor with a club.  Lor collapsed to his knees with a cry of pain.

With Lor finally down, and holding his wounded shoulder, the rest of the Skull's started to close in to beat him senseless.

Aerin knew he couldn't descend the old drainpipe quickly while still holding onto his quarterstaff.  He set the quarterstaff on the slight incline of the roof next him and let it start to roll towards the edge. Then he leaped across the gap to the drainpipe, and his decent into the battle zone was more of a controlled fall.  When he was still twelve feet above the street he pushed off from the wall with both feet and flipped over the heads of the boys below to land beside Lor.

His sudden arrival caused the Skulls to pause in their advance.

Lor looked up and saw Aerin, and gasped, "Get out of here, there are too many!" His voice was laden with pain.

Aerin remembered Mara’s teachings, not all battles were won with fighting skill; he tried bravado.  “You mean this rabble?  I’ll try not to kill any of them, but…” he shrugged and his voice trailed off as if it was out of his hands.

One of the Skulls spoke up in reply, “We ain’t afraid, you don’t have no weapon!”

"You mean, like this?"  Aerin asked, then looked up and caught the falling quarterstaff with both hands.

"Get him!” the boy with the club exclaimed.

Aerin spun the quarterstaff around into defensive position, noted the position of his enemies, and then moved.  He stepped into a gap and his quarterstaff blurred into motion.  Three rapid thuds preceded three moaning boys landing in the alley.  Before anyone could react Aerin had stepped back past Lor and the spinning quarterstaff came down on the hand of the boy holding the club, who had struck Lor earlier.  His weapon clattered to the cobblestones.

"Can you move?" Aerin whispered to Lor, as he stepped back next to his friend.

Lor staggered to his feet, "Watch me."

Aerin spun and attacked the boys blocking their way out of the alley.  The Skulls pack backed away from the lethal spinning quarterstaff.  Aerin and Lor dashed through the gap and out of the alley.  On the way out Aerin hooked the bottom of a stack of crates, leaning high against the side of the alley, and sent them to crashing down to block the alley behind them.  As the two friends rounded the corner the still woozy Lor lost his footing on a moss covered cobblestone and slipped to the street.

Aerin transferred his quarterstaff to his left hand and grabbed Lor's shirt to help pull him to his feet.  The torn shirt pulled open and since the cloth that Lor normally used to bind down her breasts had gotten pulled down, Lor's very female left breast came into view.  Aerin gasped for a moment, but Lor pulled herself to her feet by Aerin's arm.

Giving him her best scowl, she said, "Are you going to stare all day, or are we going to get out of here while we still can?"

Aerin recovered from his momentary shock, and the two friends ran toward a large passing wagon.  Aerin leaped into the back and grabbed Lor’s wrist, pulling her into the hay.  They just managed to pull the hay over their bodies when the first of the Skulls gang boys ran out of the alley.  They paused, trying to see which way their quarry had run.  Meanwhile, the wagon turned at the next bend, moving out of their sight.

As soon as Aerin saw they were safe, he spun to face Lor.  "You're a girl!” he gasped in what sounded like dismay.

Lor looked defiant and ashamed at the same moment.  "It's not a disease!"

"But..."

"But what?"  Lor demanded.

Aerin could hardly find words in his confusion.  "…why didn't you ever tell me?  You shouldn't..."

Lor interrupted, angrily, "Shouldn't what?  Shouldn’t have been learning to fight?  Shouldn’t have been out in the world, unprotected and on my own?  Shouldn’t have lied to keep my freedom? Besides, I never lied to you, remember, you just never asked!"

"I just assumed, and..." Aerin didn't know what else to say.  One of his closest friends in the world had just yanked the mat out from under his feet.

"Well, you can just go on 'assuming'.  I don't want to be a girl, and I DON'T want anyone else to know!" Lor growled.  "And if you do anything… anything at all, that treats me like a girl instead of a boy; I swear to Gedin, I'll punch you in the mouth."

Aerin was taken aback by the vehemence in Lor's voice.  "I can't say I understand, but if that is the way you want it..."

"Yes, that is the way I want it, and I don’t need to explain my reasons to you."

Aerin took a deep breath, "All right, but I don't know if I can fight with you in weapons practice... Ow!"

At Aerin's words, Lor had doubled up her fist and hit him in the mouth with all the strength left in her tired, bruised body.

"Don't do that!" Aerin said in anger, tasting blood from the inside of his lower lip.

"I warned you!  Now hit me back," Lor demanded.

"No, you're a gi..."

Lor attempted to hit Aerin in the mouth again, but this time, he managed to block the blow with his arm.

"Stop hitting me!"  Aerin demanded.

"Stop treating me like a girl," Lor countered.

Aerin scowled at her, "Well, you certainly don't act like one."

"Exactly, now hit me back or I'll wallop you again."

"No," Aerin countered, and then snickered.

Lor frowned and aimed a deadly look at him, and then she doubled up her bony fist for another punch.

"Are you laughing at me?” she demanded.

Aerin laughed, "I'm laughing at the two of us! Lor, I’m sorry, you are still the friend you have always been, I was just in shock, I guess.  However, I will treat you the same as I always did, and that includes NOT hitting you.  I didn’t do that when I thought you were a boy.  Now PLEASE, stop hitting me!"

Lor relaxed her fist and spoke through terse lips, "All right, but remember my words, and don't tell anyone."

Aerin shrugged, "I won't, but it is only a matter of time, from what I glimpsed you are going to have a difficult time hiding it soon."

Now it was Lor’s turn to blush and sigh heavily.  "I wish I could just cut them off; they keep getting bigger."  Then she looked up at Aerin with fire burning in her eyes, "And if you make just one joke..."

Aerin held up his hands in feigned fear, "I wouldn't dream of it.  But to think all this time I thought you were hiding a thief's brand."

"These are worse," Lor said mournfully.

The wagon pulled to the side of a street and stopped, the driver got down and went into a livery stable.  Lor and Aerin climbed down to the street.

Aerin went to help the limping Lor, but at her scowl, he refrained.

“You think we are safe now?” Aerin asked while looking around the street, trying to recognize where they were.

Lor glanced around, “No, unfortunately, the wagon headed deeper into Skulls Town; we’re in the thick of it now.  Maybe we can get to the high road.”

Aerin watched the slow and stiff way Lor was moving.

“Please don’t take this wrong, but I don’t think you are in good enough shape to navigate the high road right now,” Aerin noted apologetically.

Lor scowled, but nodded, “You’re right, I don’t know if I could make the jumps.  We’ll have to try and find another wagon moving in our direction, and hitch a ride.”

“All right, let’s get off this main street before one of those boneheads spots us.”

Lor smiled, “Boneheads?”

“Skull… Bonehead,” Aerin explained with a grin.

“I think we’re close to the Arena, Skulls Town has moved a little that way recently.  If we head for the Arena we should be out of danger when we get there.  No gangs hold that area, it’s no-mans-land,” Lor explained.  “Head up that alley over there, it should cut through to Hemlar Street, which leads to Arena Square.”

Just as Aerin and Lor reached the mouth of the alley, they heard a yell down the street behind them.

“Gedin’s breath, they spotted us,” Lor swore.  “Let’s run for it, quick!”

They headed down the alley at the fastest pace Lor could manage.  Within a block, she was panting and wincing from the pain in her side.  As they rounded the corner of the alley onto Hemlar Street, they found a boy about their age holding a staff before them.

Aerin jumped in front of the panting Lor and swung his quarterstaff into position.

The boy in front of them had a single long braid of hair that hung far down his back.  His own staff blurred into motion in response to Aerin’s attack positioning.

Knowing that the other pursuit was not far behind, Aerin pressed the attack.

The other boy’s quarterstaff met Aerin’s in a solid block.  Within seconds, their staffs had spun, hit and parried a host of times.  Aerin couldn’t believe it, but he felt overmatched.  Soon he was on the defensive.  Then the already tired Aerin missed a block and the other boy’s staff swept his feet out from under him, and Aerin landed on his back on the cobblestones.  The end of the boy’s staff ended up at his throat ready to jab forward.  Aerin considered trying to swing his own staff around to knock it aside, but he knew from his battle that this boy was an expert with a quarterstaff.

“Katek!” A deep male voice barked out, “what are you doing attacking that boy?”

The youth above Aerin answered.  "He attacked me, Temmen, I was just defending myself.”

Aerin puzzled over this for a moment.

Lor spoke from behind him, “You aren’t part of the Skulls?”

“No,” the boy answered. “What’s that?"

Aerin replayed the start of their battle through his memory, and realized that he instigated the attack; he had just assumed this armed boy was one of their pursuers.

“I’m sorry, we are being attacked by a gang around these streets, they were pursuing us, and I thought you were one of them,” Aerin said from the street.

The staff suddenly swung away, and the boy named Katek replaced it with his open hand to help Aerin to his feet.

“No harm then, and I’m sorry I dropped you to the stones,” the boy said as Aerin arrived at his feet.

“No, it is my error, I’m just glad I didn’t injure you.”

The man who had spoken stepped forward. He, too, had a large braid of hair down his back and carried a staff.  “Then you won’t press charges with the city guard?”

“Of course not!” Aerin answered.

A group of ten Skulls gang members ran out of the alley at that moment.

“There they are!” A boy in the lead yelled.

Aerin spun to face his enemies.

The large man put his hand on Aerin’s shoulder as he said, “Let me handle this.”

“What can I do for you boys?” he asked, stepping between them and Aerin.

The Skulls stopped.

“We want them,” a Skulls boy said, pointing at Lor and Aerin.

The man lifted his right eyebrow. “For what?”

“Ah…” the boy stammered.

“Yes?” the man prompted.

“They stole somethin’ from us,” the boy finally spit out.

“Oh?” the braided man asked, “What did they steal?

That confused the Skulls boy for a moment, but one of his companions spoke to him, “That’s Temmen, the gladiator.”

At that announcement the Skulls Town boys backed away into the alley, but their spokesman had a last word for Lor and Aerin before they got out of sight, “You’re marked now, and we’ll be looking for you.”  Then the Skulls left.

The gladiator turned to the two boys.  “I don’t know what kind of trouble you got yourself into, nor do I care to find out, but I suggest you try to stay away from that pack.  Now if our misunderstanding is concluded, Katek?”

“Ready , Temmen.” the younger braided boy answered.

“We’ll be on our way,” the gladiator concluded, and they headed up the street in the direction of the Arena.

As they left, Katek looked back over his shoulder at Aerin and gave him a nod, “Nice work with that quarterstaff.”

“Not good enough,” Aerin muttered but nodded back to the departing boy.

"I could have taken him," Lor noted, just loud enough for Aerin to hear.

"You think so?"

"Well, maybe," Lor admitted.

Lor and Aerin continued on their way past the Arena and into the relative safety outside of Skulls Town.

When Aerin finally helped the limping Lor into the familiar confines of the courtyard training area, Tocor and Mara met them.  Dono sat on a bench, his sprained foot elevated and wrapped tightly in a cloth.

"Lor's hurt," Aerin said, unnecessarily.  The way she leaned on his shoulder and the cuts and bruises on her face told the story plain enough.

Mara pointed to her room, "Get him up there.  No, you stay down here, Aerin, I'll speak with you soon enough about this latest business."

Tocor scooped Lor up with his large arms and carried her into Mara's rooms at the top of the stairs, and Mara followed.

Tocor placed Lor on Mara's bed.  The quarian stepped back while Mara approached her patient.  "Tocor, you go see if Aerin is all right."

The large quarian nodded and left, closing the door.

"All right, Lor, let's get that shirt off," Mara instructed.

Lor looked extremely uncomfortable.  "I'm fine; it’s just a few bruises... I just need some rest."

Mara shook her head, "No, I will be the judge of that; besides, I know your secret."

Lor looked scared and then suddenly angry, "Did Aerin..."

Mara interrupted, "No, I've known for a long time, but I didn't know that Aerin knew you were a girl."

Lor sighed, "He just found out.  I should have known you would know."

Mara smiled, "I understand your reasons. Now let's get this shirt off so I can see to that shoulder.  I need to see if you fractured anything."

Lor let Mara gently peel off the shirt and the wrap underneath.  Then Mara gently squeezed and prodded the girl around the bruised areas, while she asked various questions, attempting to ascertain the extent of the damage.

"Well, young lady, you look like you came through it with the durability of youth.  You'll be back in shape in a few days, with some pretty colorful bruises to show for it, but no permanent damage."

Mara removed a rolled up leaf from a sealed jar, that she took out of her trunk on the floor.

"Here, chew on this cured leaf and it will give you some relief from the pain.  Now we have a few other things to discuss."

Lor chewed on the leaf and let Mara help her put her shirt back on.  The young girl looked more fearful of Mara's questions than she did of the earlier painful exploration of her shoulder.

"Now that Aerin knows, I doubt you can keep it from your other friends for long.  Are you still planning to keep your secret?"

Lor looked miserable, "Yes, for as long as possible.  I don't want to be a girl!"

Mara gave her a warm smile.  "I think you are going to be surprised at just how much fun you are going to have as a girl.  You're going to stand people on their ear, and love doing it.  I know your type; I was that way myself, once.  Don't take their prejudice as an insult but as a challenge.  There is nothing quite as satisfying as proving such people, and their beliefs, wrong.  Not that I'm saying it will be easy; you'll have to fight them your entire life.  Even more, you'll have to fight the combined power of years of belief.  Alone you wouldn't stand a chance, but you are not alone, Lor."

"What do you mean?" Lor asked.

"Friendship, it is a power stronger than prejudice, stronger than hatred and fear.  The combined power of friendship can sustain you through it all, and let you be victorious.  Gandarel Trelic is the key.  With him as the focus of your bond, you will become far stronger than you can believe."

Lor's voice caught with suppressed emotion, "I can't say I understand.  I'm sorry; I just know that as soon as everyone learns I'm a girl I won't be allowed to do what I want.  I won't be able to travel the High Road.  People will perceive me as weak and needing protection."

Mara spoke quietly, "You fear the loss of freedom.  Well, Lor, freedom is something you have in your heart.  It is not given to you, nor can it be taken away.  Locked in a cell for forty years I would still be free.  Free to believe what I wished, free to believe in my abilities and free to stay in control of my own mind.  Freedom is something only you can give away.  Fear is the start, the more you fear the more freedom you lose.  Fear not what others will say, do, or think of you, be yourself and be anything you wish.  Trust in the power of your friendships, and the fact that though your friends may not always understand, they will still stand behind you whether you are a girl or a Drakwolf."

Lor paused in thought for a moment, considering Mara's words.  "How have you survived as a woman Mara?  How is it you know so much about fighting when that is considered a man's providence?"

"It hasn't been easy, that I can tell you, but I will not compromise my own beliefs for anyone.  If the whole world were against me, except for one true friend, I would not buckle under the weight of the world’s belief.  You have friends like that now, Lor; lean on them, trust them, they will not fail you.  Let them strengthen you until you too can stand against the world.  As to my knowledge of fighting, I am old, and I've survived long enough to learn many things.  It is my destiny to teach the new NexLord, who will throw down the Dreadmaster forever.  To that end, I am prepared.  Nor is it the first time I have been a teacher in arms, but fighting skill is only one thing all of you must learn.  There are stronger uses for the power of the Nexus, and I will teach you."

"What is this power of the Nexus?" Lor asked, puzzled, though her voice was getting drowsy from the effects of the leaf she had chewed.

Mara smiled and smoothed the young girl's short hair out of her face when she spoke her voice was soft, “Don't worry, the time has not yet come.  Rest young warrior, your friends will need you, as much as you need them.  There is still a little time before you must bear the weight of the Nexus."  Mara's voice took on the pattern of words long repeated, "For when the Dreadmaster's army flows around the Seat of Stone, like the ocean tide around a rock, the future NexLord, and his friends, must sneak away ere the Togroths depart.  For if the son of the Warlord is to be the savior of the world, he must leave for the Chamber while the siege still stands."

Lor muttered something unintelligible but drifted off into sleep.

Mara watched her for a few minutes, remembering troubled times in her own youth, as she took on the combined beliefs of many people.  She tucked Lor in and then left to go see Aerin.

Down in the courtyard, Aerin recounted his adventures to Dono, Tocor, Mara and the recently arrived Gandarel.  He left out his discovery of Lor's gender and glossed over the reasons that Lor was in trouble with the Skulls gang.

"But what was Lor doing with the Skulls?" Gandarel asked, puzzled by Aerin's less than complete accounting.

Aerin looked troubled, but Mara came to his rescue.

"I'm sure Lor can tell us that part once he has had a chance to recover," she said, breaking into the conversation.

Gandarel had a furious glint deep in his eye, "Perhaps it's time I have the Guard do something about that gang."

Mara shook her head.  "You can try, but even if the Guard manages to break up that gang, another one will just grab the territory once the Guard moves on.  The answer to ending the gangs does not lie in fighting them, but getting the kids educated and directing all that energy into useful endeavors.  Not that I think that is an easy task, and I'm not suggesting that your Guard goes easy on gang members, but using force, in this case, is treating a symptom, not curing the disease."

"Still, the streets can be made safer if we step up the patrols," Gandarel concluded.

Mara shrugged.  "Sometimes treating a symptom is all you can manage."

The next day’s practice session was canceled.  Lor had left, and needed time to recover and Dono was laid up with a sprained ankle.  Gandarel was busy with some official duty of the Warlord, even though he was still only heir apparent, and that left Aerin without much to do.

He found Dono sitting on a corner making use of his bandaged leg.  He was getting some of the richer members of Strakhelm's society to take pity on him and toss an occasional coin into his cup.  He had dirtied up the outside of the bandage Mara had tied around his ankle and smudged up his face and hair to make him look even more pitiful.

Aerin glanced in his cup and whistled, "Wow, you should sprain your ankle more often!"

"Yeah, some of these merchant's wives are nearly crying when they see how pitiful I look," Dono said with a grin, which he immediately wiped off his face, as a woman came by and dropped another coin in his cup.

At the feigned look of pain on his face, Aerin laughed.

"Hey," Dono exclaimed, "With you sitting here laughing, you're going to drive off my business!"

"Good, you have taken these poor folks for enough change already!"

"POOR folks, they throw more than this away just having their egos washed," Dono rationalized.

Aerin smiled, "Have it your way, but with practice canceled, I was thinking of doing something fun."

"Naw, I think I'll just sit here and look miserable," Dono decided.

"Are you sure?  You showed a lot of interest yesterday when I mentioned meeting the famous Temmen!"

Dono cocked his head to the side in a look of sudden interest, "What, exactly, are you saying?"

"I'm saying, I'm thinking of going to the Arena, I hear that the finals are today!"

Dono scooped up his cup and deftly emptied it into a pocket.  He pulled off the dirty rag that was tied around his head and tossed it then got to his feet, favoring the bad ankle.

"Don't you need this rickety looking crutch?" Aerin asked, poking the offending piece of wood with a toe.

Dono laughed, "Naw, the foot is not really that bad, that stick is just another prop to help out my sale."

"Sale... ha!" Aerin exclaimed, and the two of them headed for the Arena at the southern end of the city.

"So, tell me about the Arena," Aerin requested.

"I thought you were the one who wanted to go?" Dono asked in amusement.

Aerin shrugged, "I just wanted to do something exciting.  I've never been to a gladiator match before.  Do they really fight to the death?"

Dono snickered at his friend's naiveté, "Of course not, though it could happen by accident.  These are professional fighters.  They fight, and they do occasionally get wounded, but they know when to hold back.  After all, if they keep killing each other there won't be enough gladiators to make the rounds from city to city for the tournaments."

Aerin frowned, "Then it is all a show, they don't really fight?"

"No, they fight, and they are really good.  I bet Tocor was a gladiator once," Dono decided, though he knew better.  "But Temmen, he's the best there is, that's why you are the luckiest boy this side of the Dragonback.  Imagine, Temmen coming to your rescue!  I bet those Skulls about messed their pants when they saw him!" Dono exclaimed.

Aerin realized that Temmen was more of a hero to Dono than he had thought.

"Is Temmen that famous?” he asked Dono.

"Famous!  He is known as the best gladiator in the world!" Dono said with fervor.

They were getting near the Arena and they were now joining into the throngs of people all headed for the large stadium.  They could see the high walls of the oval Arena standing above the nearest buildings.  Aerin had never been inside.  Pillars lined the outside of the oval structure and went up five levels.  Vendors selling sweetmeats and cakes were calling to the passing crowd.  Wine sellers were holding up skins swelled with the nectar of the grapes.

"Wow," Aerin exclaimed, "this is exciting, but where do we buy tickets?"

Dono laughed, "Tickets, you have got to be kidding, this is the finals!  It's standing room only.  I heard a challenger has made it to the semi-final bout!  That is virtually unheard of; people have been talking about it for a week.  Have you had your head buried in sand or something?"

"No, I guess I just wasn't really listening," Aerin answered.  "But if it is sold out, how can we get in?"

"Watch and learn.  How much money do you have on you?"

"A half-crown, but I don't want to spend all of that!"  Aerin exclaimed.

"Hmm, that's not really enough, good thing I came along!"

"If that isn't enough I better not go," Aerin said, slowing and sounding disappointed.

"Wait, you misunderstand me, it isn't going to cost you a half-crown in the long run.  Trust me, and give me your money."

Aerin shrugged and fished out the small silver coin.  It had a triangular hole cut out of the middle making it a half crown.  He had saved it up from money Mara had given him for chores.

Dono slowed as they entered the open cobblestone area before the entrances to the Arena.  Aerin watched as Dono sized up the various people standing around.

In a hushed voice Aerin spoke to Dono, "You're not thinking of picking someone's pocket, I hope."

"No, relax Stupid, and watch.  Make sure you don't speak," he cautioned.

Dono found a likely man and approached.

"Sar, you wouldn't happen to be selling tickets to the show?” he inquired.

"Go away child, I don't have time for games."

"I have money, Sar, given to me by my Grandmother on her deathbed.  She requested that I have the money she had saved over the years so that I might have a better life than she did."

The man's eyebrow rose slightly, "And how much would that be?"

"Four pennies!" Dono said as if it was a Prince's ransom.

"Four pennies, faugh, that isn't enough to buy you one ticket, let alone two... be on your way!"

"But, Sar, I have also worked for the past two years at the mill carrying bags and saved up my own money to add to that!  All-in-all I have seven pennies!"

"I'm sorry, child, but that would barely buy you one ticket at face value, which is far less than I can get for these two seats to the finals," he said, showing the tickets in his hand.

Dono started to cry and sat down in front of the man on the cobblestones.  He held out his hand and let the tears fall on the coins.

"Stop that!” the man said in consternation; people were starting to stare.

"Please, Sar, please, the show has already started," Dono wailed, getting louder.

The man started to move away but Dono held onto his pant leg.

"Oh fine," the man finally blurted, realizing that it was futile, the boy was driving away his customers and any chance to sell the tickets to an event that had already started, so he said, "I'll sell you a ticket!"

"But my poor brother needs to go in as well!" Dono added.

"WHAT, for seven pennies!"

"He has his own money, but only six pennies."

"Gedin take me for a fool! Fine, here you are, now let go of me!"

The man stormed off leaving Dono with the two tickets.

Dono promptly got up and smiled at Aerin.

"Now we're getting somewhere!” the red-headed rascal chortled.

"But you paid him my whole half-crown, and I owe you a penny!" Aerin exclaimed.

Dono winked, "I'm not done yet."

He soon located another ticket seller and just when the man was about to close a sale, Dono stepped up and sold the two better tickets for a crown each, undercutting the man's price.  The two boys had to skip away fast before the angry seller could grab them.  Then it was simple for Dono to ply another sad story on another unsuspecting ticket seller, buying two more tickets.  Thirty minutes after he started Dono handed Aerin back his half-crown and a ticket.

"Now let's go see Temmen!" Dono exclaimed.

Aerin shook his head in disbelief, "Dono, somewhere out there is an acting troop missing their star performer."

Dono bowed, "It's a gift," he said with a wink.

The two excited boys handed their tickets over at one of the entry gates and headed inside the building.  Dono sprung for some pretzels for them to munch on during the proceedings.  As they walked down the tunnel toward the square of sunlight that marked the inside of the Arena, a mighty roar went up that nearly shook the ground.  Aerin stopped fearfully.

Dono stopped as well and asked him, "What's wrong?"

"What was that?" Aerin asked.

"Oh, that was the crowd!  Can't you feel the excitement?  They must have seen a good bout.  I hope it wasn't Temmen!  Come on, let's hurry and get in there, I think they already started the semi-final rounds."

As they came out into the sunlight, Aerin saw more people visible in the seats than he thought existed in the entire world.  A wave of euphoria, unlike anything he had felt before, swept up Aerin's emotions like a tidal wave.

"Wow," he exclaimed while just standing and staring.

Dono took him by the elbow, "Come on, country bumpkin, our seats are this way."

They sat on the stone shelf that was like a giant step and looked down into the arena.  Aerin was still speechless.

Dono leaned forward to a man in front of them, "Sar, could you be so kind as to tell me what everyone was cheering about a few minutes ago?"

The man turned and looked the boy over for a moment, and then answered, "It was the challenger; he won his semi-final and will go up for the championship; can you believe it?"

Dono shook his head in agreement of his disbelief and the man turned back around.

"Well," Dono said to Aerin, "no wonder they were cheering.  I wish we had seen that, I don't think I've ever heard of an unranked amateur challenger ever reaching the semi-final round, let alone winning!  He must be something."

"Why is it so amazing?  What is so special about the gladiators?" Aerin asked.

"Are you daft?  They have been training at nothing but fighting all their lives.  They start them right out of the cradle, and word even has it that they give their babies daggers instead of toys."

"Oh," Aerin said.

"Think about it, we've been training a couple years now, and we're pretty good.  Imagine how good you would be if you had trained every day since you were four or five years old!  This challenger must be incredible, he has had to win seven bouts to get to the final round; and after the first or second they would have all been gladiators.  But he hasn't beaten Temmen, he can't do that," Dono said with a smile.

Callers stood on the sand around the arena and repeated the announcement for the second semi-final bout.

"There's Temmen, and he's going to be fighting Barem!  Good, this should be a great fight.  Barem has chosen to use the chain and that lets Temmen pick the pike or net and dagger.  Looks like he took the net and dagger; that is an interesting choice against the chain," Dono noted.

The two combatants circled and sized up each other for a short time while the crowd cheered on their favorite.  After a few tentative swings with one end of the chain, Barem swung hard and low, going to one knee to do it.  He tried to get it snap around and wrap up Temmen's knees.

Temmen leaped over the flying chain and slung his net at the kneeling Barem, but he managed to roll out from under the net and both men faced each other again.  Temmen reeled in his net swiftly and had it ready in seconds.

"That was just the opening move; it won't be over that fast!" Dono narrated.

"What ends the bout?"

"Well if either man is incapacitated, or draws blood sufficient to call a challenge to the judges, it could end there.  Or, either man may call his surrender by holding up a hand with fingers spread wide."

"Does it end that way often?" Aerin inquired.

Dono shrugged, "Yes, once you are caught there is no sense making it go to blood or bones, as it is called.  Gladiators don't like to get damaged if they can help it.  This is a sport about the skill of fighting, not a blood bath."

A man down and to the right of them took that moment to stand up and scream for Temmen to take off Barem's head.

Dono glanced at Aerin and shrugged, "At least that is the way the gladiators see it, people come for different reasons."

Aerin remembered the young boy who had knocked him to the street; he withheld the final blow and just held his staff at Aerin's throat.  It made sense now that he understood the gladiator's way.

The two boys saw far more in the bout than most of the spectators.  Their hours of training in the arts of fighting allowed them to see the nuances of the battle that escaped the average merchant or worker.

Eventually, Temmen managed to wrap Barem up in the net and place the flat of the dagger against his opponent's upper chest.  Barem immediately raised his left hand, fingers spread, and a horn sounded calling an end to the match.  Temmen was the winner and would face the challenger.  The crowd was on its feet and Aerin and Dono were with them, cheering for all they were worth.

Barem and Temmen shook wrists in the swordsman's fashion and the crowd cheered them both.  Then Barem waved and left through one of the doors.  Temmen moved over until he stood in front of the judge's booth to wait and meet his challenger.

One row above the judges a boy stood up from his large chair, four Guardsmen flanked him on either side.

“Hey!” Dono exclaimed, “That’s Gandarel!  This is the ‘official business’ he had to attend to!  What a little bastard,” Dono added, but it was delivered fondly.

At that moment, the now famous challenger that had made it to the final round came out of the doors directly below where Aerin and Dono were seated.  The crowd surged to their feet, some cheering for Temmen and many cheering for the underdog hero.

With everyone standing and yelling, Aerin and Dono couldn't get a look at the man.  He went and stood next to Temmen and the two combatants faced the judges.

The crowd finally started to settle down and both men turned to face the rest of the Arena.  The challenger was a huge man who wore a cloak pulled over his head, but as he turned to the crowd he lifted his head and the hood fell back as he raised his arms.  For the first time since he entered the competition, the challenger had removed his leather wrist guards so that his forearms were bare.  The golden chains marks of a NexLord were visible for everyone to see.  The crowd erupted into a new almost unbearable level of noise, but Aerin didn't even hear them.  His legs weak and his eyes unseeing, Aerin sat down on the stone seat.  He had finally gotten a clear look at the challenger.  The man bearing the marks of a NexLord was the man who led the attack that killed Aerin's parents.

After a time, the two finalists each exited the arena floor into a separate preparing chamber.  Their battle was scheduled to start in thirty minutes.  Dono finally noticed the blank stare on Aerin's face.

"What's wrong with you?" Dono asked, puzzled.

Aerin's eyes were turned inward as that horrible day when the Togroth's attacked his family's wagon replayed in his mind.

"Aerin, what's wrong with you?  Was it the crowd?  They are just excited about the match, a NexLord against Temmen!  It will be epic, and we're here to see it!"

Aerin rubbed his eyes and forehead, trying to ease a sudden headache.  "Didn't you recognize him, Dono?” he finally asked his friend.

"Who, Temmen?  Of course, I've seen his likeness on posters."

"No, the challenger; you saw him once in the street near the church of Mummand.  We followed him, but lost track of him soon after."

Dono looked back into the arena as if looking would bring the man back out onto the hot sand.  "You mean he is the man who murdered your parents?"

"Yes, there is no doubt; I saw his face and the marks of a NexLord on his wrists that day."

Dono was puzzled, "But a NexLord?"

"Mara told me he is a fake," Aerin explained.

"Oh, I guess that could explain it, but, Aerin, if he beat seven gladiators in one-on-one combat, he probably is a NexLord, otherwise it is impossible!  It really explains everything."

"I don't know, but I'm not going to sit here and just watch!  Do you know how to get down to where they went?"

Dono looked confused for a moment, "You mean where he and Temmen went to prepare for the battle?"

"Yes."

"Well, sort of... I haven't really been in the pits before, but I know where you go to get down there.  They won't let us get far, of course.  You have to have a special pass to get all the way down."

"Can't you get me in there?"

"Hmmm, maybe, but you don't want to miss this fight… and you don't need to worry, Temmen will take him apart!  He's the top gladiator in the land," Dono reminded Aerin.

"I want to get down there… come on!"  Aerin said while standing and working his way toward the tunnel leading back into the interior of the Arena building.

Dono sighed heavily and followed Aerin.

When they exited the tunnel into the large chamber that circled around inside the ground level section of the Arena, Dono took the lead and headed them toward an opening to a tunnel that descended to the lower levels.  Two Arena guards stood at the opening to keep unauthorized patrons from entering.

Dono stopped Aerin behind a large support column to keep them out of the guard's sight.  “Those two guards are going to be a problem.  Be ready to make a dash when I do, OK?”

Aerin nodded.

Dono hyperventilated for a moment to get his face red and his breath short and then hobbled over on his sprained ankle toward the guards.  Aerin followed though he didn’t think there was any chance that they would make it past the vigilant sentries.  He barely managed to stop when Dono put on the breaks in front of the two guards who had stepped before the opening at the boy’s approach.

Dono gasped out his words between breaths, “There… is… a… man… assaulting a… lady in that hallway!” he gasped out and pointed with a stiff arm back in the direction from which they had come.

Not knowing what else to do, Aerin pointed in the same direction.

The two guards gaped for a moment, but didn’t do anything, so Dono added, “Hurry, from her dress I think she's a merchant Lord's wife!”

The one on the left said, “You go, I’ll stay here.”

Dono quickly added, “Take a weapon, this guy is HUGE!”

The man paused and then spoke to his waiting partner, “Come on, back me up!  You boys go to that office door right down that hallway and get help over here!”

The two men ran toward the opening fifty yards away that led into the hall going to the Arena.

As soon as the men were ten yards away and running, Dono grabbed Aerin’s shoulder and pushed him toward the tunnel opening.  “Quick, down we go; they won’t be fooled for long.”

The two boys headed down the sloping ramp, Dono hobbling along on his bad ankle, though he could move pretty fast when he need to, in a kind of skip. The ramp led deeper into the Arena.

At the bottom of the ramp, they entered a room that had three halls leading away.

“Which one?” Aerin asked.

Dono shrugged, “I don’t know, but pick one quickly; I think I hear footsteps coming down behind us, and that isn’t good.”

Aerin tried to remember which relative direction would lead him toward where his enemy had exited the Arena.  He chose the left hallway and Dono followed.

They headed down the passage and entered another room.  This one had gladiators in various states of undress, some had attendants bandaging wounds and others stood in groups.  Aerin saw one talking about his last battle and showing the others the move he had made.

The two boys came to a halt in the center, and though a few of the gladiators glanced their way, no one seemed to care.

Behind them, they heard a man’s voice yelling from down the hallway, “Hold it right there, you miscreants!”

“Time to go!” Dono exclaimed and headed across the room toward another hallway entrance.

But as they tried to go past some of the men a large gladiator grabbed the two boys by the back of their collars and picked them up off the floor.  “Perhaps you should wait and see what the man has to say,” he noted.

“Put me DOWN,” Dono exclaimed, “I hope you know you are obstructing a personal acquaintance of Temmen!”

“Temmen, hmmm, has anyone noted Temmen fraternizing with street rats recently?  I thought not,” he said at the silent answer to his question.

“I’m not lying, ask Katek!” Dono said desperately, dredging up the name Aerin had mentioned the day before.

One of the two guards that Dono had sent on the wild goose chase arrived.

“I’ll take these boys now… and thanks.  Sorry they got by to disturbed you,” the red-faced guard said.

“Hold on, I know how a street rat could know Temmen’s name, but Katek is another matter.  Perhaps we better check this out,” the gladiator noted.

The guard shrugged.  “I really doubt that these boys are more than adventuresome idiots, bent on meeting their hero, but all right, I can wait.”

The gladiator finally dropped Dono and Aerin to their feet and then stalked down a hallway.   After a brief moment of silent embarrassment between the guard and boys, the gladiator returned with Katek in tow.

“No,” the young gladiator was saying, “I didn’t invite any locals down.”

“Well then, perhaps the guard is right then,” the other gladiator stated.

Then Katek got a good look at Aerin.  “Well, if it isn’t the staff wielding city boy.”

Aerin nearly bristled from Katek’s arrogant speech, especially since he figured that Katek was about his age.  But his reasons for coming down were too important, so he swallowed his pride.

“Yes, and I’m sorry we had to use your name, but I have to see Temmen’s challenger!”

“So you do know these boys?” the guard inquired.

“Yes, I’ll take responsibility,” Katek stated.

The guard looked troubled, but he didn’t want to argue with a gladiator, not even one in training.

“As you wish,” he noted, and then headed back up the tunnel.

“Come,” said Katek, “I must return, Temmen is about to enter the sands.”

Aerin hesitated, but Dono poked him, “It’s nearly time for the bout, you’ll never get to the other side of the Arena before it begins.”

Aerin nodded and followed Katek.

When they reached the doorway in the hall Katek requested that they wait, he had to attend Temmen.  He assured them that he would call them in and let them watch the bout once Temmen had entered the Arena.

In the hallway, Dono was beside himself with excitement.  “Isn’t this grand, we’re going to watch the battle from Temmen’s own entranceway to the Arena!  This is incredible!”

Aerin didn’t respond.  He couldn’t put his finger on it, but he had a terrible feeling that something was wrong.  The challenger Temmen was about to face was a murderer, and Aerin knew he was here for something more than fighting in the arena.

Soon Katek opened the door and ushered the two boys into the room.  Weapons and various pieces of leather and metal armor stood neatly in racks around the walls.  A table and two chairs filled out the rest of the chamber.  Up three steps was a wide opening where sunlight streamed into the room.  The mighty roar of the crowd shook the very stone of the floor, penetrating in from the opening onto the sand.

Katek motioned, and they joined him at the top of the three stairs.  From that position, they found themselves looking out at sand level to where the two combatants were taking their marked positions for the beginning of the bout.

Katek began explaining the proceedings to his two guests.  “The judges granted the challenger first choice, he chose the sword.  Temmen could have matched him sword against sword, or picked the chain or the quarterstaff, you see what he chose.”

Quarterstaff in hand, Temmen faced the giant of a man before him.  The challenger was dressed much as Aerin had first seen him on that fateful day in the forest.  The handle of a Great Sword projected above his muscular shoulder.  He wore straps of leather over an otherwise bare chest.  Leather fighting trunks came to his mid thigh and sandals that had leather thongs winding up to the base of his knees were on his feet.

Two rows of golden chains were tattooed around his wrists and his head had short bristling hair, almost flat on top.  He smiled a white-toothed grin at his adversary. His skin was not as tanned as Aerin remembered as if he had spent more time indoors since that summer when he’d led the Togs that murdered Aerin’s parents. But the same snarl adorned his face, though this time it seemed almost insulting. His deep-set dark eyes were glued to Temmon’s face as the combatants faced each other.

Temmen was dressed as a gladiator, wearing a leather vest, a round metal helm that covered the top of his head and projected down along the jaw line, but left his ears and face free.  He wore a segmented leather skirt and sandals.  Leather wrist guards protected his forearms nearly to the elbows.

“What is a NexLord doing battling in the Arena?” Katek said, more to himself than to his guests.  Aerin chose to answer.

“He’s not a Nexlord. I fear this man brings evil with him, and I would warn Temmen to beware if I could.”

Katek glanced at Aerin, “Fear not for Temmen, he is the greatest gladiator in the land.”

"So I've been told," Aerin answered, glancing at the bright-eyed Dono next to him.

Temmen planted the quarterstaff in the sand and stepped forward while extending his hand for a warrior’s clasp of respect, prior to the beginning of the bout.

The grinning challenger slapped his hand with his own, disdaining to clasp hands.

Temmen’s jaw tightened and the crowd booed.

“This Phassic is a coward; he does not even respect his opponent!” Katek growled.

“Is that the man’s name, or a title?” Dono asked.

“That is his misbegotten name. Now hush, the bout is about to begin and I must concentrate.  Temmen will expect an accounting of every move from me afterward.  When this is done you two must quickly depart before Temmen returns, understood?”

“Yes,” Dono agreed for both of them.

Out on the sand, Temmen stepped back and grasped the waiting quarterstaff, without ever taking his eyes from his opponent.

Phassic reached slowly above his shoulder with his right hand and grasped the hilt of the Great Sword.  He pulled it out slowly, and then extended it point first toward Temmen.

“He tries to impress Temmen, but that won’t do him any good,” Katek whispered.

Temmen frowned and glanced around the Arena, like a caged animal looking for an escape, before he pulled his eyes back to his opponent.

Aerin glanced at Katek and saw a look of puzzlement on the young gladiator.

Phassic suddenly swept the sword back and up, while he stepped forward. The Great Sword swept down in a cross-body cut that attempted to cleave Temmen from shoulder to hip.

Temmen leaped back and swung his staff to knock the extended sword to the side.

Phassic actually laughed, while he advanced and swung the sword through another arc designed to decapitate his adversary.

“What is this?” Katek muttered, his frown deepening.

Temmen’s body suddenly shook, and his quarterstaff met the sword in a solid block that caused the heavy blade to half sever the staff three feet from one end.  The blow tore the staff from Temmen’s hands and he dropped to his knees in the sand.

The crowd roared so loudly that Aerin nearly took a step back from the physical wave of sound.

Phassic’s blade ripped free of the staff and he pulled it back for a backhand slash.

Just as the blade barely started to move, Temmen’s hand started to rise with his fingers spread.

The blade came down inexorably and cut down through Temmen’s shoulder, through the leather armor and all the way to his waist. Phassic's strong muscles stood out in stark relief, as he put all of his strength into the strike of the heavy blade. Blood sprayed out of the terrible wound, and a gasp of utter horror burst from the crowd.

Katek started forward, but then stopped, as if an invisible hand had grabbed him, and an unintelligible sound came from deep in his body.

A split second later the crowd roared as thousands of questioning and yelling voices sounded across the Arena.

Aerin felt the wave of horror, blood lust, and confusion, all at once, from the thousands of spectators who witnessed that killing blow.

Phassic stepped back and sheathed his bloody Great Sword over his shoulder. Then he raised his arms for applause while turning in a slow circle.  Blood from Temmen’s body was splashed across his bare chest and his mouth was wide open as he yelled at the top of his lungs.  Aerin couldn’t hear what he was yelling over the noise of the crowd.

Temmen collapsed to his side in the sand, like a tree toppling after its base has been cut while Phassic paraded around the sands to accept his due. Screams, boos, and even a few scattered cheers bombarded his ears, but he accepted it all as if bathing in adoration.

Katek wiped his arm across his eyes swiftly to remove the tears, and then stepped out onto the sand.  He walked to the body of his teacher, a man who had been a father to him most of his life.  The young man reached him and confirmed his worst fear; his master was dead.  Katek reached down and pulled the arm of his teacher up over his shoulder, and then staggering slightly under the weight, he lifted him in a shoulder carry.  Even though Katek wasn’t his full height yet, he would let no other man take his teacher from the battle sands that had been his life.  Temmen’s blood ran down Katek’s bare chest, back and legs.  The crowd hushed as the apprentice carried the massive, battle-scarred hero of the people from the Arena floor.

Katek staggered a little as he neared the opening, but when Aerin started forward, Katek gasped, “No!”

Aerin held his place and Katek finished his walk on his own.  As he neared the door the crowd began to clap in unison, a slow rhythmic sound that echoed around the Arena.  It was a tribute to the man they had watched as their champion for years of tournaments.

Katek placed his fallen master on the table and then collapsed to his knees, his lungs panting from the effort.

Aerin saw the lost empty look in the recently proud Katek, and it touched a nerve in his own soul.  He walked over and picked out a quarterstaff from a rack, and then turned for the opening out into the sands.

Katek, covered in his master’s blood, stepped in his way.

“What gives you the right to redeem Temmen’s honor?” he asked, his face in pain, but resolute.

Aerin’s face was no less determined.  “I have every right to my own honor; that man murdered my parents, and I’m going to kill him.”

That gave Katek pause and his face softened.  “I apologize, you have a claim to him as well, forgive me.  However, know this, Temmen taught me many things, and one of them is this, you choose your battles and you don’t fight to lose.”

“I can kill him,” Aerin stated.

Katek raised an eyebrow, “Can you?  Yesterday when we fought I noted that you were very good with that weapon, but I was better.  Do you know that never in my life have I beaten Temmen in a single bout?  Yet the man you would challenge killed the greatest gladiator in the land.”

Aerin was angry, “Would you let him get away?  When he killed my parents I could do nothing, but now it is different, and I won’t let him escape again.”

“So instead you will go out and die on the sand?  How does that avenge your parents?  Listen to me, this is not the time, but a time will come. When you are ready, or I am; then one of us will kill that bastard.  Make no mistake, I intend to be ready before you are, but I’ll give you a chance.”

With that statement, Katek reached to his belt and pulled out a dagger.  He pulled his waist long braid of brown hair out with one hand and reached back to cut if off near the base.  With one quick yank of the sharp dagger, it was severed.

Katek walked to Temmen’s body and placed the braided hair on his bloody chest.  “I swear by my master’s death, when my hair has reached this length again, I will find this man and he will hear my challenge.  Until that day, I will train until I am ready to reclaim my master’s honor on the sands of the Arena, or wherever I must go.”

Aerin closed his eyes and regained his will; the blood lust of the crowd had nearly overwhelmed him.  He knew Katek’s words were true; he could not take Phassic, not yet. But he swore to himself that he would be ready before Katek, and then let the fake NexLord just try to hide!

“I will listen to the wisdom of Temmen and choose my battle when I am ready,” Aerin said to Katek.

The young gladiator nodded with his face set in stone.

Dono had watched this entire exchange with wide eyes, but now he looked onto the sand.  “Phassic is calling for the Warlord.”

“What!” Aerin exclaimed.

“It’s traditional, the Warlord hands the winner of the Tournament their trophy and reward on the sands in front of the crowd,” Dono explained, “Since there is no Warlord, the heir will present it, and that means Gandarel.”

Aerin dashed toward the entrance into the Arena.  “That’s it; this is why he is here.  He’s out to kill Gandarel!”   It all fit together, Aerin was positive at last.

"Wait!" Katek yelled and Aerin froze on the first step, looking back at the young gladiator expectantly.  "What do you intend?"

"I... I don't know, but I have to warn Gandarel," Aerin explained.

"Your warning could trigger the attack if you just blurt it out. Is there another way?" Katek asked.

"Well we don't have much time, the officials are lining up in the Arena, and I believe Gandarel will come out at any moment,” Dono stated while watching the unfolding scene.

"Does this Gandarel know you?" Katek asked.

"Yes, he is our friend," Aerin explained.

"You can come onto the sands acting as my attendants when I go forth as Temmen's second.  We will get close and then you must signal your friend in some way."

Aerin considered for a moment, "All right, but hurry."

"One moment, we have time," Katek stated, and then quickly left the room for a moment.  When he returned Katek picked up a quarterstaff and then went to the exit into the Arena. He quickly had Aerin and Dono strip off their tunics and go with bare chest and on bare feet.  He arranged them each a pace behind him, to his left and right.

"There, not gladiators, but at least you can play the part of attendants.  Keep your emotions in check! The power of the crowd will be coursing through the sands; do not let it sweep you in."

Dono nodded and Aerin swallowed hard. He had just realized that he would be going out before all the spectators.

Katek waited a moment longer until both boys had control of themselves before he nodded and stepped out into the sunlight.  There was a smattering of applause for the bloodstained boy that was Temmen's second.  The other two boys stepped out and felt the gaze of the crowd on their backs.  Katek set a slow and measured pace across the sands, nearly driving Aerin crazy.

The victor of the tournament didn't even bother to look at them.

The judges of the tournament formed two rows of five men, leaving a path down the center where Gandarel now approached.  His Guardsmen split up and waited by the entrance, leaving Gandarel to walk before the crowd alone.  In his left hand he held the gladiator statue that was the trophy of the tournament, and in his right was the purse of gold crowns that was the prize.  Even Gandarel was not used to being before so many people at one time, so he didn't even notice the two attendants standing a pace back from Temmen's second.  There would be a smaller purse presented to the loser and Katek would accept as his second.

As Gandarel reached mid-way along the path between the judges, his gaze finally took in the three smaller boys standing by the giant that had so cruelly felled Temmen.  Gandarel had heard the judges discussing the last blow; Temmen had been signaling his acceptance of defeat when his opponent had struck him down.  The signal and blow had been close enough that the judges couldn't call it a foul blow, but they were not happy with the death he brought on, seemingly on purpose.

Just then, one of the boys to Katek's left moved out a little and Gandarel's eyes took in his face, he nearly stumbled when he recognized Aerin.  His being here made no sense at all.

Aerin was a pace behind Katek and so stood slightly behind Phassic as well.  At Gandarel's look of recognition, Aerin raised his left palm and traced a triangle on it with his right hand's forefinger then dotted the center.  Gandarel remembered that symbol well from when the dead Guardsman had traced it in his own blood.  Aerin then pointed at Phassic.

Recognition flooded Gandarel's mind, as he remembered seeing this man's face, and he realized this was the man that murdered Aerin's parents.

Suddenly the handle of the Great Sword projecting over the shoulder of Phassic loomed largely, and Gandarel pictured the blow that had shorn Temmen from shoulder to hip.  He paused in his advance.

Gandarel's Guardsmen noted his sudden change in motion and came to more attention.  Someone else noted it as well, and Gandarel saw Phassic's hand drift slightly upwards toward the hilt of the Great Sword.  The man's grin had vanished and Gandarel could see him assessing the Guardsmen's distance.

At that moment, all around them, Gladiators stepped out from each of the entrances onto the Arena sand, they covered every exit.  Phassic's slight movement forward toward Gandarel halted as he took in all the escape routes covered by battle-hardened gladiators.

His hand ceased its move toward the hilt and he settled back onto his heels.

Gandarel made a slight hand gesture and his Guardsmen came forward to flank their charge.  Only when they were in position beside him did he move forward again.  The crowd muttered, but they were more interested in the strange occurrence of the gladiators surrounding the sands, than in Gandarel's Guardsmen.  Most attributed the Guardsman’s move to protect their charge to the arrival of the gladiators and not to anything Phassic had done.

Phassic's eyes darted from Guardsmen to gladiators as Gandarel presented him with the trophy and the purse, but he made no moves.

Aerin stood waiting for this to be over.  His most hated enemy in life stood a mere three paces to his left, wearing the Great Sword that had killed Temmen.

The air seemed suddenly thick, and a low and rough voice whispered to Aerin.  It seemed to float in on the breeze and Aerin couldn't tell where it was coming from.  "I see you, boy, and I remember you.  Come to me, Aerin, let me live within you.  Your fear is already a part of me."

Aerin started to shake from the horridness of the voice, but no one else seemed to hear it.  He looked toward Phassic's back, but the large man was still facing forward.  Suddenly Phassic's bald head seemed to twist unnaturally all the way around, his grinning visage turning suddenly into Aerin's father's worm-eaten face.

Aerin gasped and looked toward Gandarel and then back at Phassic, but the man's head was suddenly back to normal and no one seemed upset except Aerin.

After the presentation to the winner, Gandarel stepped to Katek and presented a smaller purse, along with heartfelt condolences for the loss of such a great gladiator.

Katek accepted the purse and nodded, but he said nothing.

Gandarel then left the sands.  Phassic and Katek headed for their exits, with Aerin and Dono following Katek as before.

As soon as they were back in the chamber with Temmen's body, Dono exclaimed to Katek, "So that is what you were doing when you left, calling out the other gladiators!"

Aerin ignored their talk; he was trying to shake off the fear and the strange images he had witnessed.

Katek nodded, "We are a brotherhood."

The door flew open and four Guardsmen streamed in, followed thereafter by Gandarel.

"What, in Gedin's bad dreams, are you two doing?" Gandarel demanded.

Dono's mouth opened, but he didn't have a thing to say.

Aerin brought himself back to reality and answered, "We came to see the Gladiator tournament."

"But..." Gandarel added.

Aerin glanced at the Guardsmen, "It's a long and complicated story."

"I see.  Guardsmen, leave me, two of you wait outside the door, and two at the entrance from the Arena," Gandarel commanded.

When his men were out of easy earshot Gandarel stepped up to a startled Aerin and stuck out his arm to accept a swordsman's handshake.  Aerin took it in confusion.

Gandarel spoke, "It seems that I owe you my life once again, my friend.  Though I wish you would stop having reasons to save it.  You are my closest friends and I thank you from my heart." Gandarel shook Dono's hand as well.  "However," he continued, "how in the world do you keep getting yourselves into the thick of things!"

Aerin explained how things had transpired.  When he mentioned Katek's part, Gandarel took the time to thank the young gladiator as well.

"So," Aerin added at the end of his account, "have you arrested Phassic?"

Gandarel averted his eyes and his voice held a lot of pain for his friend, "Aerin, I'm so sorry I have to say this to you, but I cannot."

Aerin started to speak, but Gandarel interrupted him.  "Let me finish.  I am the heir to the Seat of Stone, but as my teachers keep telling me, that does not make me a god.  I am as bound by rules as the next man, actually, far more so.  I cannot treat anyone, and I do mean anyone, outside of the laws or they mean nothing.  In this case, I only have you as a witness to this man's guilt.  It is literally his word against yours.  Now I know that you are telling the truth and I believe you beyond any shadow of a doubt, but that isn't good enough.  The law says he must have a fair trial and by the rules of the land, he could not be found guilty by your testimony alone."

Dono broke in, "But he just tried to kill you!"

"Did he?" Gandarel asked, and that made them all pause.  "Don't get me wrong, I saw his hand reach in the direction of his sword and I saw him start to move forward until he saw the gladiators at the exits.  I even saw the look of hatred in his eye as he accepted the trophy and purse I so reluctantly wanted to give him.  In my eyes he was guilty, but he could not be convicted on what I think he was going to do, nor by what you think he was going to do.  There is no doubt in my mind that your swift actions saved my life today, but I can't arrest the bastard on what I think he might have done."

Aerin took a deep breath, then let it out and closed his eyes in an effort to reach calm.  Finally, he spoke, "I understand, Gandarel."

"Good, but let me tell you what I can do."  He called in his Guardsmen.  "Men, the man named Phassic, that just won the tournament, may be a threat to me.  I have no proof, but I want him hounded.  I want to know every move he makes and every law he bends.  If he sneezes I want him arrested for littering.  If he drinks I want him arrested for drunkenness.  Make his life hell," Gandarel commanded.

The Guardsmen Lieutenant nodded, and from the hard look in his eye, things were going to be difficult for the fake NexLord.

"And if you find one ounce of evidence of foul play I want his head on a pike," Gandarel added.   "Now I must go, my friends.  I need to get back and alert the council of this business.  Again, I thank you."

With that Gandarel left, and his Guardsmen were around him, with their hands on weapons ready to take on any threat.

Aerin turned to Katek when Gandarel had departed, "So what are your plans now?"

The young gladiator still kept his emotions chained behind a stone mask over his face, but the pain and uncertainty bled out through his eyes.  "I must find a new teacher.  I must train harder and seek Taumiz's guidance."

"Taumiz?" Dono inquired.

"He is our patron Saint; he looks out for the gladiators," Katek explained simply.  "He helps those who work hard, keep discipline, uphold the honor and train in the ways of the gladiator corps."

Aerin bit his lower lip; a habit he had when deep in thought.  Dono noted the familiar habit and said, "What are you thinking, Aerin?"

"I know the greatest warrior alive, perhaps he could teach you."

Katek turned a steel gaze on Aerin and he had a very serious expression on his face.  "Please don't take this as an insult, but that is a claim that is hard to believe."

"Yet it is true.  I've seen him kill three Togroths in a heartbeat, using only a quarterstaff," Aerin explained.

"I will not call you a liar since you claim to have witnessed this yourself.  Is this the man that has taught you the quarterstaff?"

"He has been a part of my instruction, yes," Aerin replied.

Katek looked apologetic, "Then either he is not such a wonderful teacher or you are not an apt pupil."

Aerin bristled, "Hey, I didn't do so badly against you!"

Katek held out his hands to forestall Aerin's outburst, "I did not mean to insult your skill!  You are very good.  Perhaps one of the best amateurs I have seen.  But I need to be better than the man who killed Temmen," and here Katek's voice faltered for a moment.

"I understand, but do you know that I have only been learning to fight for two years?"

At this announcement Katek frowned, "That is not possible, you are too skilled."

"It's true," Dono put in, "I have been there since the start."

Katek paced around the room in thought for a moment, and then spoke: "I will see this teacher of yours and then perhaps Taumiz will guide me."

He gathered a few items and put them in a traveling pack, then picked up a bundle of leather armor that had three weapons wrapped up inside.  He selected a quarterstaff and announced that he was ready to go.

"If this works out we can come back and pick up the rest of your things," Aerin noted.

"This is all I own," explained Katek, "the rest belonged to Temmen and it will all be buried with his body."

"Do you need to be here for his burial?" Aerin asked.

"No, I have already said my good-byes when I brought him in from the sands.  What is left here is just clay."  Still, as he said the words, Katek's eyes traveled to the bloody body of his master as if wishing could bring him back.

Aerin nodded, giving his respect to the strange boy's beliefs.  After a brief moment to let Katek say any silent good-byes, Aerin and Dono followed as Katek led the way out the door.  They headed out and started up a stairway that led to the gladiator's exit from the Arena.

As they walked through the city people stared at them; Katek was dressed as a gladiator though his hair was shorn off into a short nub of a ponytail.  His body was still covered in Temmen's dried blood, for he had not washed before departing.  Regardless of the people's stares, Katek walked with his chin set at a high angle and his gaze proud, as Temmen had taught.

They finally reached Mara's residence and entered the courtyard training area.

At Aerin's call, Mara and Tocor came out of their separate rooms and looked down from the second story to see why he was making such a ruckus.

Mara's face was unreadable, as always, but her eyes twinkled at seeing the blood coated gladiator.  Aerin had been watching to see what kind of reaction she would have, and this had not been what he anticipated.

As usual, Tocor was stoic.

Aerin proceeded to explain the day’s events and introduced Katek.  When he was finished Katek spoke.

"Aerin has spoken to me of a master fighter, so I have come to see if he is worthy of being my teacher," he said boldly.

Tocor raised an eyebrow at the proud speech from the blood covered youth.

Mara had not spoken at all yet since Aerin's return.

Aerin gestured to Tocor; "This is the warrior I told you about."

Tocor favored Aerin with a frown from his golden eyes, but spoke to Katek, "I could teach you, but I am not the teacher here."

Katek was puzzled, "Who then?"

Tocor pointed to Mara, and Katek's eyes took in the old woman.  She leaned on a cane, and her gray and black peppered hair hung down on either side of her lined face.  She met his frank appraisal without complaint or comment.

"Please accept my apologies, as I mean no disrespect, but I do not think this is the place for me," Katek said, and then leaned down to pick up his bundle from the ground.

Mara spoke for the first time.  "How well did Temmen teach you that quarterstaff, boy?"

Katek paused, "I'm fair, for a gladiator."

"Tocor, step into the practice sand," Mara instructed.

Katek left his bundle on the ground and straightened to see what Mara was up to.

"All right, Katek, you wanted to see if Tocor was good enough to teach you, so here is your chance."

Katek eyed the large Quarian who stood holding a quarterstaff in his right hand.  The young man stepped onto the sand with his own weapon held ready.

Mara walked closer, "I did not teach Tocor to use the quarterstaff, so that isn't a fair test of my teaching skills, but I did have a hand in his unarmed combat instruction.  Tocor, I don't want you to use a weapon."

Tocor stepped to the side of the sand area and planted the dull end of the quarterstaff a foot into the ground with one hard jab.  He released it and moved back into the square.

Katek looked at the ground strangely, since it hadn't looked that soft to him.  He straightened from his crouch in puzzlement.  "What weapon are you choosing?"

"None."

"You’re choosing to fight, bare handed, against a gladiator, even one un-blooded?"

Tocor shrugged.

Mara spoke, "Force him out of the square or to the sand and you win."

Katek looked back at Tocor, "If this is what you wish."  Shaking his head, Katek moved around the square, staying out of arm's reach.  Suddenly he whipped the staff around, sending one end headed for Tocor's right knee.

Tocor moved in a blur and the staff was suddenly in his hand.  Katek staggered and nearly pitched out of the square.

Tocor handed the staff back to the young fighter.  "I think you weren't ready, let's try it again."

Aerin spoke from outside the fighting square, "I warned you he was the best."

"Hush," Mara said to him from where she stood.

This time, the Quarian stepped to the exact center of the square, put his arms to his side and closed his bronze flecked eyes.

Katek circled slowly.  He was dazed by the man's speed.  He vowed to be more careful this time, and not flag his move ahead of time.  Katek moved behind and slightly to the side, before suddenly jabbing the staff at Tocor's left kidney.

Tocor sidestepped smoothly and the staff missed.  Next, Katek swung the other end around in an arc toward Tocor's head.  The quarian ducked and the staff passed over him.

Katek attacked and his staff blurred into continuous motion.  He delivered strike after strike in rapid sequence in an attempt to hit the sinuously mobile Tocor.  Through the onslaught the Quarian moved, spun and dodged and the wooden quarterstaff never touched him.

Panting, Katek stopped his attacks and looked at the untouched Quarian waiting calmly before him.  Katek stepped back and took a knee to the sand signaling his loss.

"I am ashamed at my arrogance.  I had not thought such skill possible.  Why is it that you are not the teacher here?   I have never witnessed such skill in all my life in the company of what are accepted to be the country's finest fighters," Katek stated.

"Because Mara is the better teacher," Tocor answered simply.

Katek studied Mara for a moment.  "I do not understand."

"And that is why you need a teacher," Mara explained.  "I could teach you how that man murdered Temmen, and how you can withstand his power, but it would take more than teaching you skills with weaponry."

"Then I accept you as my teacher."

Mara gave him a frank stare, "But, young gladiator, what makes you think I will accept you as my student?"

"But..." Katek said in consternation.  "You called me back..."

"Yes, because you thought us incapable of teaching you and I needed to prove you wrong, but you have not proved you are a worthy student.  What sacrifices are you willing to make to learn to fight like Tocor? How do I know you won't quit what you have started?"

Katek seriously considered Mara's questions and looked at the Quarian who hadn't even broken a sweat from their bout.  "I will give you my complete attention, dedication, and obedience.  I swear on my master's grave that I will not quit, no matter what you do or make me do.  If I do not understand I will learn."

"You will have to be willing to give more than that, Katek," Mara demanded.

Aerin was stunned; Mara had taught him without making him promise anything.

"Ask me, if you can teach me what I need to face Phassic, I will pay it."

"You must swear, on Temmen's memory, that you will give up the life of a gladiator if you want me to teach you," Mara decided.

Aerin was shocked.  From what he had learned, the gladiators were a brotherhood that had raised Katek his whole life.

But Katek did not hesitate.  "I will give up the life of a gladiator, but I will not swear to never fight in the arena again."

Mara nodded, "That will do.  Tocor will show you your room and tomorrow we will begin at sunrise.  You may call me Sen Mara."

"Thank you, Sen Mara," Katek replied dutifully.

"Do not thank me until you realize what you have signed up for, young man."

Chapter Eight

"Through loss, their bonds are found."

-  From the Prophecies of Gold

Dono rejoined the practice sessions after two days of rest, but it took Lor three weeks to heal. When Lor arrived via the roofs and descended to the practice yard, Aerin and Katek were sparring with practice swords.  At Lor's arrival, they paused and bowed to each other to signify the practice bout concluded.

Lor placed her hands on her slim hips and frowned at the presence of the new boy, Katek.  "I'm gone three weeks and I'm replaced?” she asked.

Aerin actually blushed, and Lor laughed at his reaction.

“You were gone?” Gandarel snickered, “We hadn’t noticed.”

"You are the boy who was wounded by the gang," Katek stated, looking Lor over.

Lor gave him an overdone look of respect, "He states the obvious well, what else can he do?"

Katek scowled.  "I can give you a set of bruises that will keep you moaning in pain instead of sassing your betters."

Lor smiled slyly, "Ooo, he's tough, come then," she enjoined him, backing into the practice sand and giving him a ‘come hither’ signal with her forefinger.  Lor took the hilt of the practice sword that Aerin had left stuck into the sand and waited for Katek.

Aerin was worried about Lor; though Katek had gaps in his teachings that Mara was filling, weapons skill was not his weakness.  Besides, Lor was just returning from an injury, and Aerin had further concerns because he knew she was a girl.  "Lor," Aerin said in a cautioning tone of voice, "I..."

"Are you about to force me to punch you in the mouth?" Lor interrupted in a questioning tone.

Aerin stopped speaking, shrugged, and said, "No, it's your funeral."

"Or his," Lor noted as Katek raised his sword to an on-guard position.

As usual, Mara turned up at that moment as if she already knew Katek and Lor would be facing off.  She leaned on her cane but did not say anything to stop the bout.

Lor made the first move, with a quick jab that was more of a feint than a real attack.

Katek stood his ground and parried economically.

Lor smiled at the obvious competence shown in Katek's parry.

Aerin sighed.  He knew Lor thrived on challenge, and there was no give in her, even if she was overmatched.

There was a flurry of quick attacks and parries.  The wooden swords echoed in the courtyard with the sounds of quick impacts.  Then Lor stepped back out of immediate engagement range and tossed the sword from her right hand to her left.

Katek raised an eyebrow as his opponent stepped back into range.

Lor attacked and Katek stayed on the defensive, for a moment, as he sized up Lor's skill while using her left hand.

It was his undoing.

Lor was truly ambidextrous, and while Katek studied her sword skill, she dropped one of her leather juggling balls into her right hand.  In a flash of speed, Lor took Katek's sword out of line to her left and launched the small sand-filled leather ball at his head with her right hand.

It completely surprised Katek, and the ball struck him squarely in the forehead.  The impact startled him more than it stunned him, but Lor spun in on the ball of her right foot and swept his legs out from under him with her left leg.  Katek came down hard to the sand, landing on his back, and Lor's sword smacked him at the base of his throat.  The blow was just hard enough to make him choke, but not really hurt him.

Lor was back on her feet in a second, while Katek massaged his new bruise and looked at her in anger.

"You have cheated!” he declared, after getting his throat working again.

"Oh, and what rules were we using?" Lor asked in amused puzzlement.

Mara stepped forward and into Katek's view.  "Katek, if that sword had been real, what would have happened?"

"He would have cut my head off!” he exclaimed, still angry.

Mara continued, "And would you have then been able to complain about the rules?”

Katek scowled.

"As I have explained," Mara said, "we practice with the simple rule not to permanently hurt each other.  That is the only rule, and Lor did not break it.  This is not about the Arena or about games, it is about fighting and how to win.  It is about survival and beating your opponent. Lor used a switch to the left hand to hold your concentration and then used surprise from a hidden weapon to startle you.  Lor finished up with hand-to-hand skills when you would have expected the use of the sword.  Have you learned a lesson from this?"

Katek considered for a moment.  "Yes, don't focus on the weapon, focus on the person.  And just because you are more skilled with a weapon than your opponent, doesn't mean you will be the victor of the fight."

"Though it doesn't hurt," Mara added.  "Excellent, now I believe you owe Lor an apology."

Katek faced Lor and bowed, "I thank you for the lesson.  Perhaps I can return the favor one day."

Lor laughed at the double-edged apology.  "You know, Katek, if we don't kill each other; eventually I think I'm going to get to like you."

"It will be a long and bruising road," Katek agreed, "but one I believe will be worth the trip."

Lor grinned at him.

Katek picked up the leather ball that had been his downfall and tossed it to Lor, "Where did you get that from anyway?"

As the ball arrived there were suddenly six of them in the air in a swirling pattern before Lor.

"What ball?” she asked.

"Juggling leather balls," Katek said in disbelief, "what good is that?"

Dono laughed, "They helped him to kick your butt."

Katek smiled ruefully, "Point taken."

"Besides," Lor stated, "I can juggle other things as well... I've been practicing."

With that, she added a dagger to the pattern of balls.  A moment later, Lor spun toward the wall targets and launched one of the leather bags in a high arc.  Before it could land, she snatched the dagger out of the juggling pattern and whipped it underhanded at the target.  Flying in a straight blurred line, it struck the falling leather bag and pinned it to the center of the target.

"Applause is not necessary, but appreciated," Lor noted.

Dono and Aerin actually did applaud, and even Katek joined in after a moment.  Gandarel only smiled and said, "Showoff."

Mara nodded, in a businesslike manner, "Nicely done, Lor.  I'm glad you like the throwing dagger I gave you.  Speaking of juggling other things, I had Tocor make you a ‘coming back’ present."

The large man stepped up to Lor and handed her a black soft leather bag.  When she opened it five highly polished steel balls rolled out into her palm.  They were all about the size of a plum, the same as her leather juggling balls

Mara watched intently.  "Do you think you can juggle those?  They are a lot heavier than those sand-filled leather balls of yours."

Lor instantly put them up into a complex pattern and she was not even watching her hands.

Mara nodded in acceptance of the answer.  "And throw them?"

Lor spun and one of the balls flew toward the wood pillar support for the balcony.  It embedded itself into the wood half way on impact from the hard throw.

"Ouch," Aerin said, picturing a person in place of the wood pole.

"I like them!  Thank you, Mara," Lor said with a genuine smile.  Lor glanced at Katek, "Care for another round?"

Katek smiled, "If you agree to just quarterstaffs this time," then he preceded Lor onto the sand.

A few minutes later Aerin winced at the hard impact as one of his friends hit the sand.

This time, it was Lor's turn to nurse a bruised arm and a bruised ego.

As weeks turned into months the friends practiced under Mara's tutelage.  Katek was ahead of the other students in pure weapon's skill but had much to make up in areas of movement, tactics and combined attacks involving multiple skills and non-traditional weapons.  But the gap closed as all of them thrived under Mara's instruction.

Katek's ponytail was now three inches longer, though barely reaching the collar of his tunic.

Aerin noticed that Lor's clothing had changed over the months.  She still hid her gender from the others, but due to the changes of puberty, she had to wear thick baggy sweaters that went past her hips.  Aerin couldn't imagine how the others missed the changes but decided that part of it being obvious was that he already knew the answer.

Everything seemed to be going on as normal, and Aerin didn't think anything could change his happy existence until the day came that tragedy struck.

Aerin stepped out of the door from his room headed for the morning warm-ups in the practice yard when he saw Lor leading Mara out into the street.  This was not in itself all that remarkable, but Aerin caught the trails of tears on Lor's face, and he had never seen her cry in all the time he had known his proud friend.

Aerin hurried to catch up.

Two streets later he neared the swiftly moving pair.  Aerin had never seen Mara moving with such energy, it was as if she had dropped away some veil, along with her cane, and ran down the streets with the fleet-footed Lor.

Aerin sprinted at full pace to keep pace.

"What's wrong?” he called when he was near enough.

Lor looked back in concern, but it melted away when she saw Aerin alone.  She hesitated, but then said, "It's my mother, she's sick."

Aerin realized that he should have guessed the answer; he knew the way to Lor's mother's house quite well.  Over the months, he had continued to visit her and purchase flowers so that she had money to see doctors.  Lor had never found out.

The three of them ran on toward the house.

When they arrived Mara spoke to Aerin, "You wait here."

Lor and Mara went in leaving Aerin out on the front steps.

Aerin waited a few minutes, but he was concerned about his friend. Over the time he had gotten to know Lor’s mother, Aerin had become friends with Renda.  He moved up the stairs and slipped in the door quietly.

Lor knelt by her mother's side and held her old hand.  Lor's head was bowed and she was crying softly.

Mara stood back a step.  It was obvious to Aerin what had happened, Mara had been too late.

But then Renda's eyes opened, and she spoke, "Who has come in?"

Lor looked up through her teary eyes and saw Aerin.

"It is my friend, Aerin, mother."

"Aerin, come here, boy," Renda said.

Lor looked puzzled as Aerin came forward.  Mara said nothing but just watched.

As Aerin passed his teacher he asked her softly, "Is there nothing we can do?"

Mara shook her head sadly, but it was Renda that spoke, "It is my time, Aerin, such is the way of things, but in this time of passing I find something to rejoice. I did not know you knew my daughter, let alone that she calls you friend.  In the months that you have been buying my flowers, and helping me pass the lonely days with simple chat, I have come to find you a worthy boy.  It eases the fear I have for my daughter when I have gone.  Will you be the friend to her that you have been to me?"

Aerin stood on the other side of the bed and looked up at Lor, who knelt with wide confused eyes at the things her mother was saying.

"I am already her friend, and will always be, Renda.  It is through her that I came to know you."

Renda's voice was weak, "Take care of Loretta, Aerin, for me."

"I will be with her and be there for her anytime she needs me, I swear," Aerin promised.

Renda smiled, "Good! And an old woman thanks you once again for your kindness."

"It is not kindness Renda, it is love.  Lor is my closest friend in the world."

"Loretta, my daughter, I ask you to take care of Aerin as well.  I always knew what the boy was up to when he bought all those flowers from me.  Aerin is a kind soul and this world does not treat his sort well.  You are a strong girl, and he will need you."

Lor's tears fell on her mother's arm and she spoke through her tears, "I will take care of him, mother, but I think he is stronger than you think, and even more of a friend than even I ever realized."

"That is good daughter," Renda paused and her breathing became more difficult.

"Rest, mother," Lor enjoined her.

Renda regained her breath and then held her daughter's hand.  "I have one other matter I wish to discuss, I know you have been hiding behind the cloak of a boy to protect yourself, but the time where that was possible is coming to an end.  I want you to be yourself, not playing the part of someone else.  You are my daughter, be proud of who you are, and know that I will be watching over you.  I love you."

Her last words came out in a whisper as her life slipped away.

Lor stiffened with the realization that her mother was gone, and tried to hold onto her emotions.

Aerin set Renda's hand down on the worn sheet of the bed and moved around to the other side near Lor.  His light touch on her shoulder broke the dam, and his friend fell into his arms and wept outright for the first time in her life.

After giving Lor some time to recover from her tears, they covered Renda’s body and prepared to leave.  It was understood that Lor would be moving her things to one of the rooms at Mara's place.  Mara assured Lor that she would take care of the funeral arrangements and that her mother would be placed in one of the graveyards outside of town.  Lor still wept on Aerin's shoulder as they left the building, and so she didn't see Dono as he backed into an alley out of sight.  Aerin saw him but made no mention of their friend's presence.

When they arrived back at the villa, Mara took Lor up to her room.  Aerin decided to go and find Dono.  The red-headed youth was not in his normal haunts, so Aerin went to the roofs.  It took him two hours, but he finally found Dono on a high church roof overlooking the city.

Dono was a little startled when Aerin arrived and tried to hide his red-rimmed eyes from his friend.

"What's wrong with you?" Aerin inquired, sitting down next to him.

Dono looked away across the rooftops. "Nothing."

Aerin sighed, he knew Dono better than that.  "Come on, spill it.  I saw you watching from the alley at Lor's place."

"I followed you guys there," he admitted. "What happened?"

"Lor's mother died," Aerin explained softly.

"Oh," Dono said as if understanding something.

Aerin waited but Dono didn't add anything, he finally asked, "So, is that what has you upset?"

Dono looked down at his hands, wringing his fingers together.

"I don't know what is bothering me if you really want to know."

Aerin nodded, "I do want to know.  When did this start?"

"After I saw you and Lor come out of that building.  Lor was leaning on you and I knew that Lor is your best friend and… well, and you are Lor's best friend."

"Yes, that's true," admitted Aerin.  "What's that got to do with anything?"

Dono looked back at his hands, "Well, you have Mara, and Lor has you and, well, I am just sort of a tag along.  Nobody really cares about me.  I don't have any family and..." he just trailed off.

Aerin considered what Dono was saying and the answers started to come to him.  "Lor was your best friend, and now you feel I've taken him away from you," he stated to Dono.

Dono looked uncomfortable, and then sniffed and wiped his nose on his left sleeve.  "That's part of it, I guess."

"Dono, there is something you have to understand.  Being someone's best friend doesn't have to be exclusive.  You are my best friend, too."

Dono looked up at Aerin, "But best means that one is above the other."

"True, and you and Lor and Gandarel are above all others to me, you are my best friends."

"You mean that?"

Aerin shoved him, nearly toppling his friend to the roof.  "Of course, I mean it!  Hey, have you ever known me to lie, even to save my skin?"

Dono thought about it, "No, but I could teach you."

Aerin laughed, "No doubt, you are one of the best liars I have ever met."

"Damn straight," Dono agreed, like it was a compliment.

Aerin grinned.  "But there is more to this, Dono."

His friend's smile slipped.  "What do you mean?"

Aerin face was now serious as well, "Mara is also your friend, and more than that, we are all family.  When Lor lost his mother today Mara was there.  She is taking care of things.  Why?  Lor is part of our family.  And when you hurt your foot, Mara bandaged you, because you are part of our family."

Dono's face lit with an understanding and emotion he had been searching for since he was old enough to know he was abandoned.  "Really, you think of me as family?"

"You are my brother and always will be," Aerin promised, putting a friend's arm around him.

"I feel better," Dono admitted simply.

"Good, I can't have all my friends down dragging in the mud today. Come on, we need to get back and be strong for Lor.  I think that today's shocks aren't quite over yet."

Dono stood with him, but his face was puzzled, "What do you mean?"

"You'll see," he answered with a sly smile.

When Dono and Aerin arrived back at the house, Gandarel was there with Katek, though neither of the boys were practicing.

"What's up?" Gandarel asked when Aerin dropped down from the roofs with Dono.

"Have you heard about Lor already?" Aerin asked.

Gandarel shrugged, "Only what Katek told me, Lor's mother passed away."

"Has Mara come out since she took Lor into her room?"

"No, and I'm thinking that I better go back to the Seat soon," Gandarel informed him.

Katek looked up, and motioned with a nod of his head toward the upper balcony, "Here they come."

Mara and Tocor, preceded by a subdued Lor, came down the stairs to the practice grounds.  Their teachers stood back as Lor approached her friends.

Lor stopped five paces in front of the four boys, with her eyes downcast.  "I am here to tell you the truth, and to apologize."

Most of the boys were puzzled, but Aerin thought, I think she is finally going to do it.

"I would like to apologize for misleading you all, and letting you think I was something other than what I am.  It has taken the last request of my mother, just before she passed away today, to give me the strength to come clean with you all.  I beg your forgiveness for what I'm about to reveal."

"Oh just tell us, it can't be that bad," Gandarel stated impatiently.

Lor's face came back up with her familiar strength back in her eyes.  With iron courage showing in the rigid set of her shoulders she looked at her friends.  "What I'm about to tell you changes nothing about how you are to treat me.  For reasons of my own I have led the life of a young boy, but I am not."

"What are you then, an old man?" Gandarel asked.

"No, I am a girl."

If Lor had told them that she was made of cheese, it wouldn't have shocked the boys any less.

"But..." Dono said, a hundred things flashing through his mind, answers fitting questions he hadn't even considered in the right light before.

Of them all, Gandarel was the only one angry.  To his credit, he held onto his anger in deference to Lor's emotional state from the loss of her mother, but inside he felt anger and even dismay; Lor's skills in some areas were better than his.  He had always had a hard time with Lor's abilities in acrobatics; her coordination and speed were incredible.  Knowing that she was a girl made that knowledge even harder to take.

Katek frowned at this development as well, but he was not angry, just puzzled at reconciling a simple fact, which he immediately stated in his outspoken way, "Girls should not fight."

Lor bristled; her emotions were running on a short leash as it was.  "I dumped you on your butt the first time you tangled with me, and I'll do it again if I hear such nonsense, and that includes any of you!"

This is what Mara had been waiting for, so she stepped forward.

"I am the teacher here, Katek, and I decide who I will teach.  Lor is gifted in her own ways and tougher mentally than many of you at this point.  In my youth, women fought just as much as men and were usually tougher, meaner and more ruthless.  Just because the ‘sport’ of gladiators does not include women, doesn’t mean that a woman can’t fight.  Don't insult Lor with your pity, or your overprotection."

Aerin spoke up at this point, "Yesterday we all considered Lor our friend and our companion in arms.  Does learning that she is a girl change her into something new today?  Her skills, her pride, her courage are still the same.  If you think about it, this news doesn’t really change anything, she's still the same old pain-in-the-butt she's always been."

Lor gave him a look of mock anger, "Hey, I'm not sure if that helps or hurts."

Katek shrugged, he had said his peace.

Gandarel swallowed his anger and said nothing more.

But where Gandarel had felt anger, Dono felt hurt.  He spoke quietly, "Couldn't you have told me?  I was your best friend, once."

Lor’s forlorn smile was sad with the regret she felt for deceiving her original friend in the world, "You still are my best friend; my being a girl doesn't change that.  I didn't keep this from you because I didn't trust you, Dono, I just wasn't ready to admit I was a girl to anyone," and Lor’s voice dropped to almost a whisper, “not even myself.”

Dono nodded in acceptance of her answer, though he did not completely understand.

Mara placed a hand on Lor's shoulder.  "Now, young lady, you couldn’t wait to do this, so against my better judgment, I have let you get it over with now, however, it is time for you to keep your end of the bargain.  I want you in your room resting for the rest of the evening."

Lor nodded dutifully, "Yes, Sen Mara."

Mara bid the four boys good-bye and took Lor to her new room.

Chapter Nine

"And I saw that for the son of the Warlord to be the savior of the world, he MUST stand prepared before the Wall of the Chamber without fear while the siege of his city still stands."

-  From the Prophecies of Gold

Their quarterstaffs beat a frantic tempo of wood smacking wood, as the two boys circled around the courtyard.  Gandarel smiled as he nearly scored on Aerin's right shin, but Aerin's riposte made Gandarel spring backward and wiped away the brief smile instantly.  They were well matched.

"Enough for now," Mara exclaimed, as she got to her feet.  She wore one of her simple dresses today, but her gray and black peppered hair was done up in a tight bun to the back of her head, a sure sign they were going out into the city.

Tocor smiled at the boys.  "A good display, though you were suckered in on that opening, Gandarel."

Gandarel looked crestfallen, but when Aerin started to smile Tocor fixed his bronze gaze steadily on the young boy.  "But you failed to finish your ploy off, Aerin, and so squandered your only advantage."

Aerin deflated.

Tocor smiled at them.  "Still, I see some promise in you both; we won't toss you in the street to be beggars, yet.  I want you two to go through that whole sequence again slowly and tell me where you made your mistakes."

The two boys knew better than to argue with Tocor, so they started from the beginning.

A few minutes later Mara and Tocor walked out of hearing range to talk.

"You are working them hard today, what do you think of their skills?"  Mara asked.

Tocor pursed his lips for a moment and his bronze irises were like whirlpools to his mind.  "They are good, Mara."

"Just good?"

"The best I have ever taught.  Even they don't know how good they are since they have only been measured against themselves and of course, Yearl and me, and you know our advantages."

"Yes, I concur; not only doesn't it surprise me, I expected it.  You realize that it was inevitable?  For almost three hundred years people have been gathering and believing in the coming of these children. The world doesn't know who they are yet, but most of the people in this world believe in their coming.  There have never been humans with the talent and potential that these five youngsters possess.  They pick up another weapon or discipline like a child picks up a game."

"When they finally discover their supremacy, will it go to their heads?"

"It's up to us to be there, and make sure that they learn to use their skills with restraint."

Tocor nodded.  "I will do my best, but I worry, they are so young to know the ways of such deadly battle."

Before Mara could answer the two boys interrupted, they had finished going through their last bout in slow hits.  Gandarel called out to Tocor.

"Are we going to do sword practice now?" Gandarel still favored the sword.

Mara headed for the door that opened out into the city streets from their courtyard.  "Not today... come along, I have a new lesson for you to learn."

The two boys looked at each other in consternation, when she started talking like this they never knew what to expect, but they put up their staffs on the rack and quickly followed their teacher.

Aerin looked around but saw no sign of Lor, Dono or Katek.  “Should we wait for the others?”

Mara shook her head, “No, I think you two will do for the moment, this is something different than our normal training.”

The two boys looked at each other and shrugged.  It was to be a far more interesting day than either boy anticipated.

Gandarel looked around for his familiar guards, but they were not evident.

Mara caught his look and explained, “I have them enjoying a rest and a drink; I explained that your lesson would go on for some time under my direct care.”

"Is Yearl around?" Aerin asked of Mara, in the time he had known the Willowman he had never learned how to keep track of the mysterious man, yet Mara seemed to always know when he was near.

"No, we are on our own today, I think you two should be sufficient protection," she said with a sly smile.

Both boys felt a swell of pride, and unconsciously began to scan the surrounding crowd and street for dangers.  Mara noted their concentration and smiled inwardly.

Aerin spotted a group of younger children, perhaps six to eight years old.  They were playing a game in the side streets.  When he saw them Mara stopped and watched as well.  Gandarel looked impatient, but Mara shushed him and watched with Aerin.

To begin the game one child would spin around with his eyes closed until he suddenly stopped.  Whoever he was pointing at was deemed the Screamer.  He would fall to the ground and scream while the others went and hid.  After a short time he would get up and give one last loud yell, and then come hunting for the other children. The Screamer then searched, and the first two he found he had to chase and touch.  The first one he touched had to freeze in place. When he touched the second child he would scream and both frozen players would now join him in the hunt.  The three of them would now search out the remaining children.  When any one of the three Screamers discovered one of the hidden players they immediately screamed until the other two Screamers ran over.  Then they would circle the captured player while holding hands and chanting a children's rhyme.  If at any time during the rhyme another child revealed himself and ran between two screamers, forcing them to break their circle, the captured child was freed.  The Screamers had to run back to the 'fortress', the place where the first screamer had started, before being able to return to start the search.  If the captured child was not freed, he became one of the Screamers.  The game went on until everyone was caught.

"Ring around the one that's found," three children chanted while they circled around the captured one within.

"Hold him still to break his will," they cried out, raising their hands and stopping.

"He is deceived and now believes," they chanted as they brought their clasped hands down to touch the victim.

"And now he's one of us!” the new Screamer gave a loud scream, and the four of them went hunting the other players.

"It's just a kids game called ‘Break the Circle’, come on, let's go," Gandarel stated, taking hold of Aerin's arm.

Mara held her cane up, blocking Gandarel's path.  "You don't know this game, Aerin?"

"No, I never played it as a child."

Gandarel spoke with sarcasm.  "Where have you been, locked in some trunk?  Oh, that's right, your dad kept you locked in books."

Aerin punched him.  "Oh, and you know so much, locked up with all your teachers on how to dress."

Mara rapped Aerin lightly across the shins.  "Enough of that, now can either of you tell me what that was all about?"

"The game?" Gandarel asked.

"Yes, the child's game," she answered.

"It's about finding hidden kids and capturing them, what's there to know?"

Mara fixed him with a stern look.  "What's there to know?  A lot more than is in that big empty space you call your brain.  Many things have roots in history, even children's games."

"And I suppose this one has some great significance?" Gandarel noted.

"What if I told you it was a clue to the Wraiths and how they are created?" Mara suddenly asked.

That caught even Gandarel's attention.  Everyone had heard of the fell Wraiths of the Last War.  Mara had taught them a little about Wraiths in the past.

"What do you remember from my lessons about Wraiths?” she asked, leaning on her cane and watching her two students.

"They are evil beings ruled by hate, it is the foremost emotion of their life.  They collect it and use it as power," Aerin recited.

Mara nodded.  "Good, and what else, Gandarel?"

"They can freeze a man with a scream of hate."

"Yes... now, knowing that, look at this children's game, what do you see?"

Aerin thought about it for a moment, remembering.  "The Screamer, the one who is 'it'.  Is he supposed to be a Wraith?"

Mara nodded.  "And he has the power to freeze someone with a touch, though, in truth, that isn't necessary, but what else do you see?"

Gandarel didn't want to be outdone by his friend.  "They can make new ones by surrounding a player with three of them."

"Exactly, it takes three Wraiths to turn a human into one of their kind.  That person must have a great hate in his heart, but that isn't hard to find.  Once turned, they are lost to hate forever.  Remember this children's game and what it teaches, it and many other things around you, that you take for granted, are clues to the knowledge you need.  Knowledge is power.  But come, this is not our lesson for today, just a side note for you think on later."

They traveled through the city until they reached an area not familiar to either boy; there was a small open market and some shops along both sides of the street, with hanging signs that depicted the wares and services they offered.

Aerin noticed the road sign mounted on the corner building telling them they were at the crossing of Sekel and Netter Streets.  Aerin recognized where they were headed, and for the first time put the name 'Netter Street' together with sayings that Lor used... something about the crazies on Netter Street.

As before, Aerin saw men in various states of poverty along the side of the thin street.  Some wore rags for clothing and held out broken pottery to passing citizens, begging while others crouched near the ground holding their knees and rocking.  One man even stood ranting on about the coming of flies to eat the world.

"What is wrong with these men?" Gandarel asked.

Mara spoke in a sad voice, "They have either been abandoned by the world or have abandoned it themselves.  When someone is labeled ‘daft’ or ‘touched by the Dreadmaster’, people bring them to Netter Street, rather than deal with their sickness.  There is a block of abandoned old buildings here where they sleep at night, and charities bring food each day from many of the surrounding churches.  You'll notice we aren't far from the main theological section of the city."

Gandarel was troubled, as Warlord he was supposed to take care of the people under his charge, but these poor men seemed to be near death in many cases.  "Can nothing else be done for them?"

Mara looked at him with sympathy.  "In some cases more could be done, but there are many different cases here.  Some even want to live this way.  Others, well there are things in this world that affect us, things beyond an individual’s control, forces that are not easily surmountable.  There are powers that have belief behind them, and trust me, belief is a power to be reckoned with."

Aerin watched the man who ranted about flies for a moment.  "Is that why you brought us here today, to teach us about the powers of belief?"

Mara smiled at him, he was such an intelligent boy, his mind always working.  "No, Aerin, though I will give you a small example, now that you have brought it up.  Do you believe in Tzera, God of smoke?”

Aerin considered for a moment.  “No, smoke is just what comes off of something that is burning; it is silly to think a god would spend their energy on such a simple thing.”

Mara smiled, “Yet they have hundreds of parishioners who worship this deity every day.  Do you believe yourself that much smarter than all of those people?”

Now a frown crept onto the boy’s face, “No, well I don’t suppose so.”

Gandarel stepped into the fray.  “It’s peer pressure; they believe it because the people around them do.”

Mara nodded.  “You are indeed correct, but that power is even stronger than you think.  The power of people believing in something adds together to become stronger than most individual minds.  The greater the number of people who believe and accept it in their heart as true, the more powerful that belief becomes.”

Both boys were surprised at what she had said, and then Gandarel looked up slyly.  “Aren’t you preaching your own beliefs to us right now?”

Mara laughed a truly heartfelt laugh and then after a moment replied, “Indeed, young man, I am imparting a belief upon you now, and by saying it is true and by believing it, I give it power.  Should ten people stand and tell you the same thing and believe it, you would indeed feel the pressure to believe it yourself.  Should a thousand… well, even you might believe in what I say then.  But remember this; my message is to beware the power of belief by common faith. Just because others believe doesn't make it true.

"Instead, I counsel you to test what you are told, and even what you see over and over, accept only what you prove.  Apply this to what I tell you, as well as anyone else.  Live life on your own terms, do good for the world because it is right that you be treated as you treat others.  After all, if there turns out to be a higher being, by definition of an all-powerful wise god, they could not treat you in such a childish manner as to punish you for doing well by your fellow man.

"However, I did not bring you here today to sway you to believe something I believe, I brought you here to observe and learn on your own.  The lesson of the day is what you see first is not always what is true.  Learn by observing, keep a clear and unprejudiced mind, and question everything until you reveal the real answer."

Gandarel rolled his eyes when he understood it was going to be one of THOSE lessons, the kind that took weeks to see the answer.  "Oh, that's much simpler, sure I get it."

Mara smiled at the sarcastic boy.  "Believe it or not, it is simpler than understanding the forces that drive our world, which is what you thought we were here to learn about.  But forget that for the moment, it's time for an example."

She moved up the street further until she came to a man who crouched in the dust of the street.  His hands were placed between his legs, with the palms down on the ground before him, much like a dog sitting on its hind legs.  His mouth was open and his tongue was out and panting slightly.  He only wore caked mud.  His black beard and hair were dirty and matted.  His age was indeterminate beneath the filth, though Gandarel didn’t think him very old.

Aerin recognized him instantly as the man Mara had come to see at least twice before, though he did not mention what he knew.

"What do you see here?" Mara asked the boys.

"I see a man who thinks he's an animal," Gandarel answered promptly.

Mara nodded.  "Not a bad assessment, but not entirely accurate either."  She crouched down to the man's level and spoke quietly.  "Good day, Ricard, how are you doing today?"

There was no response, but then the man let out a low wine from his closed mouth.

Mara spoke quietly to the boys.  "Don't smile at him, he doesn't like that."  She reached into the sack she carried and drew out a wrapped package, which she then held out toward Gandarel.

"Crouch down before him, look him directly in the eyes and place this before him," she instructed.

Gandarel shook his head, "I don't want to get that close; he looks dangerous."

Mara frowned at Gandarel, "This is not a time to argue," she turned to the other boy, "Aerin, can you do it for me?"

Aerin nodded and crouched down before the man.  He kept his eyes locked on the dark brown orbs of the strange man as he placed the package on the ground.

The man's hand darted out and grabbed Aerin’s wrist in a firm grasp.

Mara spoke quickly, "Relax, Aerin, it’s all right."

The man leaned his head down and sniffed Aerin's hand for a moment, and then he shifted his grip and clasped Aerin's hand in a swordsman’s handshake while looking the young boy in the eye.  A moment later he released his grip and dropped back to all fours.  He began to sniff at the food package.

Mara guided the boys away from the man.

At the end of the block, Gandarel stopped and demanded an answer.

"Ok, I admit it, I don't understand what that proved," he said with crossed arms, looking quite belligerent.

Mara raised her eyebrows at him.  "Who said it proved anything?"

"What was I supposed to learn from that?  You said something about what I saw not being true."

Mara smiled.  "All right, what did you see?"

"I saw a crazy man, who thinks he's a dog, take some food," Gandarel exclaimed.

Mara looked at Aerin.  "Is that what you saw?"

Aerin considered her question for a moment before answering, "At first... yes, but there was something in his eyes, honor, integrity, I don't know, I got the feeling he was not crazy."

"Sheesh," Gandarel interjected.

Mara sent him a quieting frown, and then continued talking to Aerin, "And what did you observe from his grabbing your hand?  Think about it and remember everything."

"He was strong," Aerin began, thinking back to the feel of the hand on his wrist, "and the hands were rough, with calluses."

"Of course, his hands were rough, he walks like a dog!" Gandarel burst out.

"No, it wasn't that, the calluses were very defined, almost ridges in his hand," Aerin remembered, feeling at his left palm with the fingers of his right hand.

There was a large commotion from the nearby main thoroughfare; people were gathering and pointing up the street.

Gandarel was glad to have a diversion; this stuff about the crazy guy was starting to bore him.  He interrupted Aerin, "Hey, let's see what's going on!"  Without waiting for a reply, he ran to the edge of the gathering crowd and started jockeying for a position where he could see what was happening to cause such a stir.

Aerin looked at Mara with narrowed eyes.  "You didn't just bring us out here to feed that man and see that he isn't really crazy, did you?"

His teacher smiled.  "What you see is not always the whole truth.  What did you make of those calluses, Aerin?"

He looked back at his own palm and saw the calluses he had developed from all their weapons practice.

"He's a swordsman," he suddenly knew, seeing the matching patterns in his palm.

"Indeed, but that is enough for now, Aerin.  Here comes Gandarel."

The young heir to the Seat of Stone arrived back at their side, panting from his run.

"Togroths!” he gasped.

Mara rapped him on the shin lightly with her cane, "This is not how I've taught you, Gandarel, report in a controlled manner."

Gandarel took a moment to regain his breath and gather his thoughts, and then he tried again: "A Togroth army has been spotted.  It is headed toward Strakhelm.  They must have overrun the border guards, and killed them before they could light the old warning fires."

Mara nodded curtly, a calculating look in her steel eyes.  "And what should you be doing?"

Gandarel thought for a moment and then replied, "The council will be looking for me; they'll need me as a symbol to unite the militia."

"So..." Mara prompted.

"I must return to my guards immediately, and head for the Seat."

"But how are you going to get to the Villa and from there to the Seat?  The streets will be rampant with worried people, and if someone spots you there might be trouble due to panic."

"But, how else can I get back?" Gandarel questioned.

Mara looked up, "Is there not a faster route by which you boys often travel?"

Gandarel nodded, "The High Road, but..."

"Do not worry about me, young Warlord.  Your people need you, so you must get back to the Seat.  I will make my way to the Villa and inform your guards that you went to the Seat without them.  Aerin, make sure Gandarel gets to his destination, and then return by the High Road to the Villa.  Don't dally anywhere," she cautioned with a stern glance.

"I won't, Mara."

Mara nodded, and again addressed Gandarel, "Now, when you meet with your advisors make sure you suggest that the city be sealed and that no one goes in or out.  No attacks, no sorties, no meetings with the enemy leaders, no parlays of any sort.  Buckle the city down for a siege and tell your advisors to wait it out."

"Shouldn't we fight?" Gandarel asked in frustration.

"No, that would only get people killed.  I know what I'm talking about here, so trust me.  Last, but not least, once you have convinced the council to wait out the siege, you MUST come to me... understand?"

Gandarel looked puzzled, "Not really, no."

Mara sighed, "Just remember to come, and don't let anyone stop you.  This is the most important thing I have ever asked you to do, Gandarel."

"All right, I'll come as soon as I can, I promise," he agreed.

Mara looked in his eyes for a moment and then nodded, "Good, alright boys, get moving, and you watch out for your friend, Aerin."

Aerin nodded, and the two boys dashed to the side of a building and swarmed up the drainpipes toward the high roofs.  Mara made her way into the swiftly gathering crowds of people in the streets, using her voice or cane where appropriate.

Aerin left Gandarel at the gate into the Seat of Stone, the guards were obviously relieved to see him, and quickly shut the massive gates once he was within.  Aerin had to fight his way through crowds of people milling around the outside of the Seat until he could reach an alley and ascend back to the rooftops.

When Aerin arrived in the practice yard he was surprised.  It looked to him as if his friends were packing to leave.

He saw Katek loading boxes of supplies into Mara's wagon and went over to speak with his new friend. "What's going on, Katek?"

"We're packing to leave."

"That's obvious, the question is, why?"

Katek shrugged, "Mara said pack; I'm packing."

"But doesn't it seem odd that we would be leaving, when the city is being sealed up and an approaching army is about to lay siege?  They are going to need all the fighters they can find!"

"If you are puzzled, why don't you ask Mara?"

Aerin glanced up toward her room; the door was open.  "I guess I'll do that since you are such a fountain of information."

Katek smiled, "Good, then you'll be put to work and I won't have to load this stuff all by myself."

Aerin was far too worried to laugh at his friend's joke and headed toward the stairs.  He met Tocor coming down carrying a large trunk.

"Tocor, what's going on?" Aerin asked the large Quarian, as Tocor passed him going down the stairs.

The rumbling of his deep voice seemed to move the very air, "Packing, we'll be leaving here soon."

Muttering under his breath, Aerin entered Mara's room.  His teacher was using some cloth to wrap up a set of jars she kept on a shelf.

"Mara, what is going on?" Aerin asked again.

"I would think it was obvious, we're packing to go."

Aerin's voice faltered, "G-go?  But... this is our home."

Mara paused for a moment, "Aerin, this is a city, one of many, and only remarkable because it is the largest this side of the Dragonback.  But home?  Home is where your friends are, this is but a place."

"But this is where my friends ARE!" his voice rose in volume toward the end, he was visibly upset.

Mara returned to her packing, "Your friends are coming with us."

That caused Aerin to pause for a moment, "But... Gandarel can't leave; he is supposed to become the Warlord!"

"Leaving won't change that; it's a title, not a place."

"But that's not the point, he WON'T leave."

That made Mara pause again, and she looked at Aerin, "He must. Now stop wasting my precious time, and go fetch Lor and Dono.  I thought they would have been here by now, but I imagine they are out by the east wall waiting for their first look at the approaching army of Togroths.  Get them both, and have Dono stop and pick up his things, no more than he can carry in one pack. Then get back here as fast as you can, we don't have much time."

Aerin left her room, more puzzled than when he entered.  He climbed back to the roofs and headed for the east wall.

Gandarel felt like a bug under the eyes of a flock of hungry birds.  The council members were all staring at him.  He had just told them to prepare for a siege.

"What do you know of these weighty matters, Gandarel?" Niler asked in an angry voice.

"Mara advised me that this is best, and I trust her," he explained.

Councilman Enolive, normally Gandarel's lone supporter in the council, spoke up, "I warned you all, repeatedly, that this unknown vagabond woman teaching Gandarel was a bad idea.  Now look at the fool notions she has pushed into his head.  Gandarel, you know me, you know I have been your supporter in the past.  In this case, you are better off listening to your trusted advisors, than some old woman."

Niler had noted the grudge that Enolive seemed to have against Mara in prior meetings of the council.  Here he saw an opportunity to widen that gap and bring the boy back under his own sway. "Regardless of where the advice came from Enolive, I do not yet discount its validity."

"Validity... better to call it insanity!  The Seat of Stone is here to watch for and stop any incursions from the Wastelands; I think this qualifies!  We should marshal the Guardsmen, draft men of acceptable age into the infantry, and attack!"

Niler scowled at Enolive's outburst.  "You would have us give up the advantage of the city wall's defense?"

Enolive turned to address Gandarel directly, ignoring the head of the council, "Gandarel, the Guardsmen were placed under your father's and his father's control to guard the lands east of the Dragonback, now it is your turn and duty to do the same."

Niler shook his head, "I forbid it, Gandarel is not yet come of age, nor has he stood before the King."

"The King is dead," Enolive reminded him.

"The Regent then, but he must do so before he can take command of the Guard."

"He commands now, unless a unanimous council overrules him," Enolive exclaimed.

Niler's bushy eyebrows were nearly meeting between his eyes from the intensity of his frown.

Enolive faced Gandarel again, his eyes so intense they almost seemed to glow from within, "Tell them, Gandarel, tell them to call forth the captains and sound the attack!  It's time to defend the Seat of Stone."

Gandarel was confused, Enolive seemed right, it was his duty now that his father was dead, but he remembered what Mara had said.

"I must consider my options," Gandarel finally said.

Niler nodded, "Good lad, never make a decision in haste."

"But," Enolive added, "do not tarry too long, or you may get no choice at all."

Gandarel remembered his promise to Mara to return as soon as he could.  "I must go see my teacher," he informed them.

"Which teacher?" Niler asked.

Gandarel realized that he only considered Mara his teacher at this point, the rest were just necessary evils.  "I must go see Mara."

Enolive scowled, "Has this woman bewitched you or something?  We are training you to be a strong man, like your father; he would never have had to consult with an old woman on matters of battle."

Gandarel fretted for a moment but then remembered his promise. "I swore I would return to speak with her after seeing the council," he said in explanation.

Niler pulled at his lower lip, "I see.  Well, we cannot have you forsworn, but in the future, you had best be more careful of where and to whom you give your word."

Enolive gave a snort of surprise, "You're letting him go?"

Niler shrugged.  "We will send councilmen with him this time, and Guardsmen.  It cannot be helped.  Perhaps we should also question this woman about why she is giving advice to Gandarel on how he should command this council!"

Enolive nodded, "I agree."

Niler continued, "I have never been completely satisfied with that woman's explanation of how she was in the Seat, uninvited, in time to save Gandarel from the Togroths.  There is something wrong with her story.  We granted her request in gratitude, but now that I think further on this, it is time for her to answer some questions."

The other councilmen nodded and muttered agreements with Niler's suspicions.

"Come with me, Gandarel," Niler said, placing a hand on his shoulder, "let's go and speak to this woman."

Gandarel sighed.  Oh well, he thought, I did promise to return as soon as I could, but I didn't promise I'd come alone.

Finding Lor and Dono was not as easy as Aerin had expected.  Looking out over the east wall was not a normal endeavor for his friends, so he had to start by reaching a high place near the wall and then look for logical places where they might go.  After searching for over two hours, Aerin was about to give up and head back to search other parts of the city and check to see if they had shown up at the Villa.  He paused one more time and considered the rooftops before him and likely places to perch.  His eyes fell on the actual guard towers that were spaced along the outer wall.  One of these had another building near; the gap was wide, but not impossible to leap.  It would be daring and dangerous to actually sit on the guard tower itself as an approaching army arrived.  When applied to Lor’s personality, that thought alone made Aerin think he might have found the solution.  He started working his way in that direction.

Gandarel arrived at the gate into Mara's inner courtyard with a vast entourage.  The entire council had come with him. Hork, High Priest of the church of The Hand, had got wind of the expedition and come along as well.  There were thirty Guardsmen to protect the council, as well as fifteen battle priests from The Hand. The battle priests were there ostensibly to help protect Gandarel, but they were grouped around Hork the entire trip.

They had to hammer on the gate, four separate times before someone answered.  Katek opened the door a crack and saw Niler standing before him and the rest of host behind.

"What do you want?" Katek asked.

Niler's chin rose slightly as he spoke in a demanding tone, "Open this door!  The council has come to speak with the woman of this house."

"I have orders not to let any strangers in," Katek explained and started to close the door.

"Young man, we are not strangers, we are the council!"

"I'll have to go ask," Katek replied, unimpressed.  He had been a gladiator, and the local council was nothing to him, just another group of officials.

Gandarel stepped forward so that Katek saw him, "Tell Mara that I have returned, though the council decided to come with me."

Katek nodded and closed the door.

"Do you always have this much trouble getting in here, Gandarel?" Enolive asked him.

"No, but I don't usually come in through the door," he answered.

"But, then..." Enolive looked around for another entrance and saw none.

"I have another way in," Gandarel said, evasively, he didn't want the council knowing about his dangerous travels over the High Road.

Just when Niler was getting red enough in the face to explode, the gate finally opened wide, exposing the courtyard within.

The council poured in, flanked by the guards, and then followed by Hork and his priests.

Mara met them in the center of the courtyard.  She had Tocor and Yearl standing to either side.  Tocor was dressed in his large robe with the hood up, and Yearl stood dressed in his dark purple tunic and black leather pants.

Katek closed the gates behind Gandarel’s troop once they were all inside.

Gandarel noticed a sudden hardening of Mara's eyes as she saw Hork and his battle priests at the back of the group.  He knew that look and wondered what the final outcome of this confrontation would be; he was just glad she wasn't aiming that look at him.

"To what do I owe this sudden visit of the austere council?" Mara asked, though her frank tone belied the deference of her words.

There was a hiss of recognition from Hork as he took in the Willowman standing to Mara's right.

"This is my house, and you are my guests.  I will not tolerate any insults to my friends," Mara said in a hard voice, looking at Hork.

The fat priest stepped forward and angled the knobby top of his cane at Yearl.  "Ye shall not suffer a Willowman to live in the presence of humans."  He quoted from the book of The Hand.

"I'm sorry, but that line has been miss-translated over time, what it really said was, "Willowmen seldom choose to live among humans," Mara answered.

"You blaspheme!" Hork stated, his face turning a nice shade of red in his anger.

Mara didn't back down, "And you feed the Dreadmaster with anger and fear."

"Enough!" Niler stated forcefully, "We are not here about Willowmen; we are here to see if it is true that you have put notions into this boy's head.  He has stated that you told him what to demand of the council about the deployment of the city’s defenses.  If this is true you are skirting close to treason!"

Hork was barely containing himself and made various gestures against evil in the direction of Yearl.  His battle priests all had their hands on the hilts of their weapons.

Mara did not answer Niler's accusation instantly; she considered the situation for a moment and then spoke.  "I had hoped that Gandarel would present these suggestions as his own, but regardless of that, I stand by my advice."

"Treason!" Hork nearly screamed.

Mara spared him a withering glance.

Niler was quieter, but no less grim, "This may indeed be treason against the state."

Mara actually laughed.  "And how do you come to this wild conclusion?  I think you might find that if you look in your books of law, any citizen of this country may petition the Warlord to state any suggestion they want.  Now, the Warlord has to set a meeting, and traditionally does this at specific times and while in the main audience chamber."

"I am more familiar with the laws of this state than you are, madam," Niler answered in disdain.

Mara merely raised an eyebrow, but let the statement pass.

"What you said is true, but only when the Warlord sits in state, with his council there to advise him.  By subverting him in private you have committed treason," Niler accused.  He raised a hand to have the Guardsmen apprehend Mara, but her voice forestalled his command.

"Book two, section five, paragraph three and I quote: 'Any citizen may speak freely to the head of state without fear of reprisals if the head of state has given them leave to speak,' end quote.  Gandarel," Mara said, fixing her gaze on her student, "have you agreed to accept me as your teacher and given me leave to speak to you?"

"Of course, Mara," he answered.

"And in my capacity as a citizen, I have spoken freely."

Niler ground his teeth together but nodded.  "Then I see no further evidence of treason, at this time," he added.  "However, we did not come here to arrest you, we came for answers.  What purpose do you have in demanding Gandarel's promise to return to this place during this crisis?  He should be in the Seat of Stone, surrounded by his council and his Guardsmen, instead of in danger wandering the streets during this terrible time.  We are here so that he does not break his word, a word that should not have been asked or given.  What have you to say to that?"

"I say that his word is his own to give.  I have my reasons for asking him to come."

"Which are?" Niler prompted, glancing around at the obvious packing going on in the courtyard.

Mara's next statement was so wildly unexpected that the council was momentarily stunned. "Gandarel must leave the city, with me, before the siege begins."

Finally, Niler exploded, "What... this is treason!"

Mara was exasperated, "Again, that word, I think you should look it up before bandying it about incorrectly.  I did not say I was abducting him, he would have been coming under his own free will."

"He has no free will!  He is under the command of the council until he has come of age," Niler sputtered, his face red.

Mara sighed, "Everyone has free will, at least everyone alive… regardless of laws."

"You impinge on the laws of the state!  I accuse..."

"Are you actually going to say treason again?" Mara interrupted.  "I have told you that I was going to ask Gandarel to leave the city; there is no way to assign treason to the intention to ask someone if they wish to leave a place."

Niler was furious, and the powers to put two words together coherently had suddenly left him, so Enolive stepped into the gap.  "Let's put aside these various accusations for the moment."

"By all means," Mara agreed.

"Why are you counseling the boy not to fight for this city?  It is his duty, a duty set by the King and his forefathers.  To allow this army to ravage the countryside, destroy other smaller towns and villages, and perhaps," and here he paused in horror, "even cross the Dragonback to attack the west for the first time in history, would be a dereliction of the Warlord's duty."

"It wouldn't be the first time the Togs reached the west," Mara said and then added, "but regardless, this cannot be helped.  I feel for the villages and towns the Togroths will destroy, but we cannot stop them at this time.  Their numbers are too great.  Any of our forces who attack them would be killed, and then the Togs could stay in the east permanently without fear of the Guard.  Once they hold the east they could prepare for that attack on the west that you so fear."

Enolive straightened his skinny frame to his full height, "Nonsense, how would you know about the size of this army?  It has not yet reached the city.  Have you spoken with the man who first came to report their approach?"

Mara shrugged, "I don't need to since I've already read about it."

"Read about it!" Enolive exclaimed, "How?"

"If you have read the prophecies of Gold you would know of the siege, and its outcome," Mara stated.

"You’re basing your cowardice on that old piece of garbage?  I have ten prophecies, and each is different.  That is the worth of those documents."

Mara shrugged, "I have found this one to be true."

Niler had regained control and now spoke, "Well, I can tell you this, Gandarel is not going to leave this city, whether we fight or wait out the siege."

Now it was Mara's turn to look momentarily angry, but she controlled herself quickly.  "He must leave.  You do not understand the danger if he does not.  I quote, "For if the son of the Warlord is to..."

Enolive answered in anger, "I will not stand here and listen to you quote that stupid text, written by the hand of a charlatan!  The truth is you are a coward, and you wish to run before the battle commences.  You have counseled Gandarel to have us seal the city so that no one can leave, except you, I see?  You will run, and you want to take the leader that these people turn to for their strength?  You realize that without the symbol of the Warlord here to strengthen the resolve of the Guard, this city could well fall?"

"It will not fall, if battle is not engaged the Togroths will retreat," Mara stated, but her voice sounded less impressive to Gandarel than it had.  Enolive was making good points that the young heir could not refute.

"They will retreat for no reason, right when they have this city under their thumb?  You are insane, much like the crazy woman who wrote this nonsense.  We must attack before we are weakened from short rations before they get entrenched around the city.  Only then can we defeat the Togroths and send them fleeing back to their Wastelands, as in the battles in the Final war!"

Mara knew she had lost this argument.  They would not believe the prophecy, and without that, there would be no convincing them.  She feared what would happen if Gandarel did not leave.  "If we attack the Togroths everyone will die, men, women, and children.  They will sack and burn this city to the ground."

"You are a coward," Enolive hissed.

Gandarel swallowed in a throat gone dry, he was disturbed by Mara's words, and against his better judgment he had to agree with Enolive.  With Mara telling him to decree that everyone is to remain in the city, but then leave the city herself before the Togroths could arrive, she seemed to be fleeing and leaving the city to fend for itself.

"Gandarel is leaving with me," Mara stated, suddenly her voice was different, cold and powerful.  She glanced to Yearl and Tocor.  Yearl reached for his sticks in the sheath behind his back, Tocor already had his metal staff in his hand.

"What is this?" Niler stated with his eyes widening.

"Hold!" Gandarel yelled, and even Yearl and Tocor stopped moving for a moment. "I am commanding that the city be sealed; no one shall leave, not even you, Mara.  I will see that you are protected, so you don't need to fear."

Aerin, Lor, and Dono dropped to the ground from the rooftops at that moment.  Gandarel took them in with a glance, but couldn't spare the time for anything more.

Gandarel continued, "However, I also state that I will NOT be leaving my post during this time of crisis, not for anyone.  We have a defense to mount and we best get on with it.  Any interference with these commands, by anyone, WILL be considered treason against the state.  Am I clear?"

Mara glowered at Gandarel for a moment, but she did not signal to Tocor or Yearl.  Then she spoke in one more effort to convince Gandarel, "Darel, listen to me, this could mean the difference in winning and losing the entire war!  This cannot be allowed; you must leave..."

"I have stated my intent and will brook no more arguments!  I will not abandon my post, not for Prophecy, and not from fear of my duty.  Mara, do not make me arrest you, please?"

Mara's head bowed, as she fought for control of her emotions.

Gandarel took this as a sign of defeat.  He turned and headed from the courtyard, his Guardsmen and council members following.

Hork and his priests were the last to go; the priest sent a glance of pure hatred at Mara and the Willowman.  He took a step forward toward Yearl but stopped when Tocor pulled down his hood exposing his bald head and golden eyes for Hork to see.  At this sight, the High Priest's eyes nearly bugged out of his head.

Tocor peeled off one of the black leather gloves he always wore, exposing the four tentacles that grew from his wrist, where a human hand would normally have been.  He pointed at the priests with one of them while the others writhed around, seeming independently alive.  Tocor's deep voice rolled out into the air, “Do not approach my friend with your hatred, priest, it is offensive."

Hork fell to the ground in his haste to back away from the suddenly revealed Quarian in their midst.  Incantations of protection tumbled from his lips as he found himself in the company, of what he believed, was a demon.  He scrambled to his feet, the dirt smudging the white robe of his office.  All his battle priests now had weapons drawn as they backed out of the courtyard, protecting their High Priest from what they saw as the evil one's minion.

When they were gone, and Katek had closed the gate, Mara wearily sagged onto her cane.  "That could have gone better," she noted in obvious understatement.  "Somewhere the Dreadmaster is laughing, for we fell sway to his powers today, and lost a battle for which I have been preparing for more years than you can imagine."

Aerin approached his sad looking teacher, "We're going to lose to the Togroths?"

Mara looked at Aerin, and pulled the young boy against her side, "No, not yet, anyway, but we lost something more important than this siege."

"What have we lost?” he asked.

Mara's gaze was far away, but an answer came in a whisper from her lips that Aerin just caught, "We have lost our way; we have entered the Dark Prophecies."

Chapter Ten

"I saw the heir to Ragol's power taken by the betrayer into the enemy's camp, and the world was cast into a darkness not seen since the coming of the first Dreadmaster."

-  From the Dark Prophecies

Early the following morning, during the false dawn before the sun had actually crested over the eastern horizon, Aerin, Lor and Dono climbed high atop a city roof to watch the ocean of Togroths approaching the sealed city.  Their numbers were too many to count and covered the land as far as they could see, like a tide of metal.  Some still carried lit torches that had been used to move through the night, as well as to burn farms and homesteads outside the city.  Fires could be seen glowing in the distance where Togroths had ravaged the land.  The torchlight glinted off flat spearheads, helms, shields, and armor.

The friends sat in silence, each pondering their own thoughts at the approach of the fell army.  It was the first time either Dono or Lor had faced their mortality.  There was no doubt in any of their minds; they could not win against such a hoard.

"Gedin, there are a lot of them," Lor finally muttered, breaking the silence.

Aerin remembered the stories he had read of the Togroth armies of old, their descriptions had been much like what he was seeing, but then it had just been a story, now they were real and coming for his blood.

Aerin spoke in a subdued voice.  "Mara has often said that the Final War was a joke, at last, I understand what she meant.  We never defeated the Dreadmaster, we only made him wait.  He has once again come to take what he wants."

"How can the Guardsmen stop them?  They are outnumbered fifty-to-one, a hundred-to-one, it might even be worse," Dono noted glumly.

"The walls will stop them," Lor noted, though her voice was uncertain.

Aerin sat upright, "The sewers, they came in through the sewers when we saw them in that church, do you think that was a test?"

Lor and Dono were also up now, and Lor said, "Yes, we need to warn the Guard!"

The three friends headed over the rooftops at a run, as they headed for the familiar large stone structure of the Seat.  Worried about the first Togroths arriving at the tunnels before they could sound the alarm, Lor took a chancy route that she seldom considered, and never before with Aerin.  There was one jump that required a perfectly executed, headfirst leap to a horizontal flagpole, which she used to swing herself up and onto a ledge.  It was a very dangerous jump.

Lor called back to Aerin, "There is a tough move up ahead, don't try it if you are afraid."

"I'm fine," Aerin called back.

Lor accelerated to get slightly ahead of her two followers, so they could watch her leap.  That would give them time to see how to make the jump, or stop if they weren't sure.

She saw the spot up ahead and gauged her speed.  Her leap took her head first out over the fifty-foot drop to the street below.  Her hands struck the pole and she let her momentum swing her body around in an arc underneath.  As her body snapped through the bottom of the arc she released the pole and bent at the waist into a pike position before straightening out and landing lightly on the ledge.

Immediately Lor looked back to see how her friends fared.  Aerin was already in the air.  Lor realized he must have leaped while she was still flying.  Aerin hit the bar a little strong, but close enough to make the grab and start the swing underneath.  The pole bent slightly more with his greater weight, and he released a little early.  He came in low and Lor grabbed his arm and the back of his jerkin to help pull him all the way onto the ledge.

"Thanks!" Aerin said with his face flushed red.

Lor smiled, "Don't mention it."

Dono landed lightly beside them, though he too was flushed from the danger of that jump.  "Let's not do that one on a regular basis, OK?"

Lor nodded, "I usually save that one for life and death chases, or when I'm bored," she added with a wink, and then headed off at a run toward the nearby gate into the Seat.

They descended rapidly and arrived at the large gate a few minutes later.

Aerin acted as spokesman to the Guardsman at the gate.

"We need to speak with Gandarel Trelic, it is of utmost urgency to the defense of the city," Aerin explained.

The Guardsman frowned at the three young people, "He's much too busy for the likes of you three street urchins.  Be on your way!"

Dono bristled, "I'll have you know we saved Gandarel's life!  It was Aerin and Lor who sounded the alarm when the Togroths would have slain you and your pals in your cots!"

The Guardsman scowled at Dono, "And I'm the Dreadmaster's mother."

"Listen, if you don't tell them..." Lor began, but the Guardsman interrupted.

"You'll what?” he growled, "Cry?"

Lor stepped toward the man and then suddenly extended the movement into a spin that brought her boney elbow into his gut.  His breath came out in a whoosh.  Lor snagged the hilt of his sheathed sword, and as she danced away she pulled out the sword and took it with her.  She stopped a few feet away and planted the sword, point first, between two cobblestones, so that it stood up in the street.

"I'll break your legs for that, you little shit," the Guardsman said when his breath came back.

Lor stepped in front of the blade.

The Guardsman took a swing at her and she used a low spin kick to cut his legs out from under him.  He fell to the street with a groan.

Another Guardsman stepped out and pulled his sword.  When he saw just three youngsters, holding no weapons, and not challenging him in any way he paused.  From inside the gate, another voice called out, "What's the ruckus out there?"

The Guardsman, with the sword in his hand, called back, "Just a young..." he looked hard at Lor and noted the cinched jerking that outlined her modest chest.  "…lady out here kicking the crap out of Jonnsen."

"This I gotta see," the voice said, and a Guardsmen corporal stepped out.  Jonnsen was just getting off the cobblestones with a grimace of pain.

"Is that slip of a wench kicking your behind?” the corporal said with a laugh.

"I want her arrested; she assaulted a Guardsman and stole my sword!” he gasped.

Lor pointed at the sword stuck between the stones, "I don't have his sword, it is right there."

"So it is," the Corporal noted.  "Best tell me what this is all about."

When Aerin finished his account the Corporal had them enter the gate and then ordered them held under watch while he reported up the chain of command.

It was about ten minutes before Gandarel showed up, with councilmen Enolive at his heels.  "What is this I hear about you attacking Guardsmen?" Gandarel asked with a frown.

"We weren't, we were just getting him to take us seriously.  We have important information you need!" Lor stated.

"All right, what is it?" Gandarel prompted.

Aerin started to explain about the sewers, but Gandarel interrupted.

"We know about that, remember the attack on the Seat?  All sewer entrances that come into the city were sealed.  That was done months ago, and just in case, there are also watchmen down at each one during this emergency.  Is there anything else?"

His three friends looked ashamed that their news was not news at all, but Aerin finally spoke, "What's happening, Gandarel?  I caught the end of that scene yesterday..."

"I'm done practicing, that's what.  I have to face up to my responsibilities.  Assuming we get out of this mess alive, I am old enough to go and accept my heritage.  We're not children anymore, Aerin.  It's time we put aside our play on the roofs and our practice with teachers."

"We won't be seeing you anymore?" Dono asked.

"I didn't say that I just won't be coming to practices at Mara's anymore.  I am beyond her teachings now."

The councilman behind him nodded in encouragement.

Gandarel continued, "But you are my friends and you can come to see me when I have time.  I'll see that this scene does not repeat itself in the future, but until this crisis is done, perhaps it is best if you do spend your time protecting Mara.  I do care about her, still," he added as if that was in doubt.

"All right, if that is the way it needs to be," Aerin agreed.

"It is, but for now, I have to get back.  We're making a battle plan to protect the city.  Keep your eyes peeled and if you see something... from high up, don't hesitate to stop by and let the Guardsmen know. They'll listen to you, next time," he stated, casting a frown at the chagrinned looking Jonnsen.

Aerin decided to stop by the Villa to see if Mara had emerged from her room yet.  Dono and Lor headed back to check on the Togroth army.  When Aerin arrived he found the courtyard empty. Since the confrontation with the council the day before, Mara had disappeared into her rooms.  Aerin considered going up to see her; he was concerned about Mara's mental state.  He remembered the past times she had become moody and withdrawn, and they were nothing compared the depression he had glimpsed yesterday.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when Yearl touched his elbow and said, "Mara has been asking for you."

"How do you DO that?” he demanded when he had swallowed his heart.

Yearl shrugged, "I don't do anything, people just aren't interested enough to notice me."

Aerin looked at him skeptically.  "Is this something Willowmen do, or is it just you?"

"People find us all uninteresting, I'm just particularly uninteresting.  It's a gift," he acknowledged.

Aerin shook his head as if that would clear up the confusion he felt; sometimes he thought that having the answer was more confusing than the unanswered question.

Yearl nodded toward the stairs, "I don't think you should keep Mara waiting, she's in a bad mood."

Aerin looked at her closed door with a little consternation.

"She won't bite," added the Willowman, "well, she won't bite hard."

Aerin climbed the stairs slowly, but eventually he stood before the door and had to knock.

"Come in here, Aerin," Mara's voice called instantly.

Aerin sighed, he thought about asking her how she knew who it was, but he figured that he would probably just be more confused by the answer.  He opened the door not knowing what to expect.

Mara was dressed as normal, wearing her long sleeved blouse, brown skirts, and shawl.  Her long hair was up in a hastily arranged bun, though a few strands had escaped here and there.  Papers covered her bed and her desk, old ones, of the kind he had seen in her room before when he had read the line from the old prophecy.  As he looked at these papers he revised his estimate, these looked even older, and the writing was less flowing, harder to read.  He tore his eyes away as he realized he was about to start reading them, and he didn't want Mara angry with him again.

He noted a worn wooden box, of about the right size to house the old papers, sitting at the back of the desk; he had never seen it before.

Mara looked up from the page she had been reading, and Aerin noticed the dark circles under her eyes.  Aerin figured that she must have been reading all through the night.  He wondered if she wanted to discuss what she had read.

"I bet you are wondering why I have asked you up here," Mara began.

Aerin hoped she wasn't reading his mind or something.

"No, I'm not reading your mind, it's an obvious question.  I want to know what is going on with Gandarel.  You have been to see him?"

It was almost more of a statement than a question, but Aerin answered, "Yes, a few minutes ago."

"Good; and what transpired?"

Aerin recounted the meeting and Mara did not interrupt.  When he was through she closed her eyes and was silent.

Aerin waited and started to wonder if Mara had fallen asleep.  He was just about to say something when she jumped to her feet.  Her sudden move startled him.  Mara began pacing around the room.

"This just won't do!” she exclaimed. "He doesn't realize the danger he is in, the danger the world is in because of his foolish actions."

Aerin was worried by her words, "You mean the Togroths are going to get into the city?"

Mara paused, as if noticing him again, he wondered briefly if this was how Yearl felt when people finally noticed him.

"No, though they will.  What I am more concerned with is what fool things he will do to place himself in their hands.  You do realize that they have come for him, not the city?"

Aerin realized nothing of the sort, but he let it go, this was far more than Mara usually confided in him, and he didn't want to spoil things.

"If he had just left with us yesterday the Togroths would be leaving by now.  By staying here their prize is within their grasp!  Here, look at this," she said, snatching up one of the old documents and putting it before his face.

Aerin took the document and read from the top, "And during the siege, the snake in the grass will crawl into the nest of stone, curling itself around the heart of the heir.  And during the dark days of terror, the heir will go to the enemy, and his heart will be turned in fear, distrust and falsehood.  And, if he leaves the city in the company of the enemy, he shall..."

"Give me that," Mara stated, snatching the document from him as if he had picked it up to read on his own.  "Aerin, you must convince Gandarel to listen to me."

Aerin swallowed hard; there had been no give in Gandarel when they had last spoken.  "Mara, he is going to need time to cool down, time for emotions to calm and reason to return.  I don't think I can..."

"We don't have a choice!” she barked.

Aerin snapped his mouth shut at her yell and stood rigid.

A moment passed and Mara's voice was back under control.  "I'm sorry I snapped at you, none of this is your fault."  She placed a hand on his shoulder and sighed.  "This is my fault, if anyone’s, so I should yell at myself.  I should have been ready for this; I should not have been so arrogant as to think that I had things on track with the Prophecies of Gold.  For so many years I had things going nearly line for line, I didn't even bother to look at the other possibilities, like the Dark Prophecies.  Now we have to deal with that reality, and believe me, you don't want to know what I know, Aerin."

"What can I do to help?" Aerin asked.

Mara looked at him, her eyes really focusing on him for the first time since he had entered the room.  She hugged him to her with both arms.  "If only you had been the heir to the Seat, Aerin, things would be different."

"I'm sorry, Mara."

She took him by the shoulder tops with her hands and move back slightly so she could look into his eyes.  "I am not blaming you for being who you are, Aerin.  I am blessed that I have found such a true and good friend, I will never be disappointed in you, nor expect you to be anything more than yourself."

Aerin blushed from her praise.

Mara continued, "However, we will have to play with the cards we have been dealt.  You and I have much trouble ahead."

"What about Dono, Lor, and Katek?" Aerin asked.

Mara smiled, "Oh, there is plenty of trouble to spread around; they will have theirs as well.  But let's talk about Gandarel, and what we can do to blunt the damage.  Gandarel MUST not fall into the hands of the enemy.  I will do what I can, but you can get close to him, both physically and in his heart.  Keep him safe, and keep him from doing something stupid.  He will see his duty above all else…"

Aerin smiled at this, he knew Mara spoke the truth about his friend.

"…and you have to keep that nobility from hurting him, and everyone who is still free of the Dreadmaster’s control."

Aerin's smile turned to a frown of thought.  "But, Mara, how will I know what is the right thing to do?"

Mara smiled, "You have a great heart, Aerin, trust it, and listen to it.  When all else fails and you have choices before you that all seem wrong, listen to your heart and then act on it.  In the end, that is the best we can do in life."

Aerin nodded.

"And remember, I am not asking you to betray your friend.  I really do care for Gandarel, and I only wanted to do what was best for him and his subjects.  Unfortunately, he now thinks differently.  Tell him only the truth about me, but try to convince him that I am still his friend, and I will be there when he finds he needs me."

Again, Aerin nodded.

"Now, practice is canceled for the duration of the siege, you need to be able to move freely.  Keep Gandarel safe and out of the hands of the enemy.  And during all of this, make sure you take care of yourself.  This is a dangerous time, Aerin, and it will not get less dangerous any time in the foreseeable future."

Here she glanced around at the old documents in the room.  "The darkness comes and we must walk through it now, there is no going around anymore."

"Will we all live through this Mara?"  Aerin asked in a quiet voice.

He expected her to laugh off his question, or answer in some cryptic fashion; her answer was all the more terrifying because she did not dissemble.

"No, Aerin, we will not."

"But, who..."

"Hush, some things are better not known.  Remember this, regardless of all the prophecies in the world claiming to foretell what is to come; the future is never set on one path.  There are only likely things and unlikely things, and sometimes the most unlikely event happens and everything changes.  Two days ago I would have told you that we would all survive this, perhaps I will be wrong again."

Aerin knew Mara well enough to know she did not believe she would be wrong.

He wished he could read the Dark Prophecies.

Mara spoke, breaking into his contemplation, "Well I need to get back to studying, and you need to start watching over Gandarel."

Aerin went to the door, but before he left he turned to his teacher, "Mara, I still think we can win."

Mara gave him a wan smile, but her eyes were haunted.

The first test of the city’s defenses came that night.  The Togroths made an assault on the west wall using ladders.  They brought them forward under the cover of night, and within minutes, there were hundreds of them up against the wall.

Just as the attack started, Tocor woke Aerin by shaking his shoulder.  Aerin glanced at the black-gloved ‘hand’ of the Quarian, remembering the revealed tentacles of the day before.

“The Togroths are attacking,” Tocor stated.

Aerin scrambled out of bed as if Togroths were in the courtyard.

Tocor chuckled, “Relax, they won't be in the city, yet.”

Aerin slowed his mad scramble for clothes to a reasonable pace.  “How do you know they won’t breach the wall?”

Tocor smiled, “Because most of the Guardsmen have spent time along the border forts, and are veteran fighters.  Those posted on the walls will not panic.  They will stall the attack long enough for reinforcements to arrive to help repel the enemy."

“How are Togroths getting to the wall?”

“Ladders,” he stated simply.

Aerin glanced toward his pile of practice weapons standing in the corner of his room.  “Are we going to help?”

There was an amused tone in the Quarian’s voice as he answered, “You think you’re ready then?”

“No, but…”

“Your fighting skills will not be needed this night, at least, not on the wall.”

Aerin realized they were finally going to discuss why Tocor had woken him.

“You must help guard the Seat, Gandarel must not leave,” Tocor ordered.

Aerin was puzzled, “You mean I need to make sure no Togroths get in?”

“Certainly, but the real danger lies with someone taking Gandarel out.  Watch anyone who leaves the seat tonight, no matter how they are dressed.  We must make sure Gandarel stays safely behind the inner walls.  Do you understand?”

“I understand my orders, but not why they are given.”

“Good, that is all you need to understand.  However, I will explain a little so that you do not go insane on me with worry, and so fail to keep your senses.  We suspect that there may be a traitor within the Seat.  Someone got to those Guards who opened the doors for the Togroths back when they attacked the Seat.  We never found out who was responsible.  However, Gandarel has not been murdered, so it follows that their objective is not to kill, but to capture.  Mara believes that this was their intent the first time as well.”

Aerin frowned in thought, “But I heard that priest say that they were to kill Gandarel!”

“Did you, are you sure?  Or did you hear him say something that you just assumed meant kill him?”

Aerin tried to remember, but that episode had happened quite some time ago.

“I can’t remember, but if you thought there was a chance that someone was going to murder Gandarel, shouldn’t we have done something?”

Tocor shrugged, “Mara was sure he would not die.  I listen to her when she is that positive about something.  Besides, we didn’t really have a choice; the only way we could have gotten him out of the Seat was to abduct him.  Mara decided that there were other reasons he had to stay, so that wasn’t an option.”

Aerin was amazed, “But you considered it?”

“This is not a game, Aerin.  Gandarel must become the new NexLord or we believe there will be no stopping the Dreadmaster this time.”

That made Aerin pause for a moment.  “If only Ragol was alive in this age, he could lead the armies again!”

Tocor shrugged, “Ragol was unable to destroy the Dreadmaster, not by military defeat, and not face-to-face, but Mara says that there is a slim chance that Gandarel could be the one.  Again, I trust her on this kind of thing.  Now, enough of this chatter; get moving.  Lor is probably already waiting on you, I got her up first.”

Tocor left his room, and as Aerin laced up his shoes, he wondered at the sudden tendency of Mara and Tocor to tell him things they had never been ready to discuss openly before.  The more he thought about it the more nervous he became.

Lor wasn’t ready when Aerin looked for her in the courtyard, but he saw her come out of her room a moment later.  He did a bit of a double take, her clothes, while still fairly masculine in basic form, were no longer chosen to hide her more female attributes.  The tight sweater she wore tonight left no doubt as to her shape.  It disconcerted Aerin, but he put it from his mind as best as possible.

Where Aerin was still a bit sleepy, Lor was astonishingly cheerful and awake.  Lor liked excitement and preferred the night to the day.

“Hey, sleepyhead, did you hear about the attack?”

Aerin scowled, “Yes, and I’m worried, what if they breach the defenses?”

“Then you and I will grab a high seat and watch Tocor take them all,” she replied with a grin.

“I think there may be one or two more than even Tocor can manage,” Aerin noted.

Lor shrugged, “Then we’ll mop up the rest for him, I need a little exercise anyway.”

“Will nothing sober you?”

“Nope, I’m ready to prowl.  I hope you wake up before you land on your head, I’m feeling like a run!”

“Oh, Gedin, don’t take that same route to the Seat, I nearly tossed my lunch when I looked down halfway through that leap.”

“Don’t worry; we’ll keep it a little safer for you tonight, but still fun!”

Aerin sighed; Lor was in a real mood.

“Come on, the last one to nab a traitor has to moon the Togroth army!”

Despite his worries, Aerin had to laugh at Lor’s antics, her mood was contagious.

“First, we find Dono, I can’t wait to yank the covers off his warm snuggled body, then we’ll trot on over and see what is sneaking in the night,” Lor decided, heading up their favorite path to the roof.

Katek came out of his room dressed for travel.

Lor looked him over.  “Hey Kat, are you coming with us tonight?”

“My name is Katek,” he answered, “but yes, Tocor suggested I keep you two company and help watch over the Seat tonight.”

Lor gave a very predatory grin.  “Well, Kat, it’s time for you to show us what you’re made of on the High Road.”

Katek looked up toward the roofs without much enthusiasm.  He knew the other kids used the rooftops for their travel about the city, but so far he had avoided going with them.  He didn’t want them to know, but he had a fear of heights.

“Maybe we should stick to the streets?” he suggested, hopefully.

Lor just laughed and swarmed up the side of the Villa toward the roofs.

“Great,” Katek sighed.

“Come on, Kat, I’ll show you the ropes, it is actually a lot of fun,” Aerin assured him.

“It will not be fun, and do you have to call me Kat?”

“Hey, it sounds like a nickname that is going to stick, you might as well get used to it.  Besides a ‘cat’ is not a bad animal to be associated with when you are about to travel the high road.  You should try to land on your feet all the time.”

Without further talk, Aerin went up the drainpipe toward the waiting Lor.

“Great,” Katek muttered again.  He swallowed hard and then started climbing up after Aerin.

When he was only ten feet off the ground the familiar pain in his stomach started, he was deathly afraid.

Lor's head peeked over the roof and snickered, "I bet Mara could climb up here faster than you.  Maybe we should call you Dog instead of Kat."

Katek scowled angrily and reached for the next handhold above him.  He arrived at the top, breathing hard, though not from exertion.  Before he could even look back over the edge to see how high they were, Lor reached up with both hands and patted him on the cheeks.

"Can't keep up with a girl, Kitten?” then she laughed at his angry look.  She turned and ran across the flat roof and leaped across to the next building, a good ten feet away.

"Don't call me that!” he demanded angrily.

Lor called across from the other building, "Just touch me once before we reach the seat and, I swear to Gedin, I'll never call you that again!"

Katek growled, then ran toward Lor and leaped.

Lor danced along the edge of the roof, then turned and climbed higher toward its peak.

Katek scrambled after her.

Aerin shook his head and followed behind his two friends.

For the next half hour, Lor stayed a tantalizing five to ten feet in front of Katek, taunting him all the time.  She never stopped moving, and he couldn't quite catch her.

They arrived at the roof overlooking the outer wall of the Seat and Katek pounced.

This time, Lor didn't move and he grabbed her by the arm.

"Hah!" Now you WILL stop calling me Kat," he gloated.

Lor laughed, "No, I will stop calling you Kitten, that's what I promised.  But Kat fits you well, that was the fastest anyone ever learned to follow me across the High Road, and I'm King... well, Queen of the High Road," Lor said with a grin.

Katek suddenly realized what they had just done, what he had just done, and what Lor had just done to him, all in one flash.  "You knew!"

Lor raised an eyebrow, "That you were afraid of heights?"

"Yes!"

"No, you aren't, you just thought you were.  How else could you have followed me all the way here?"

Katek finally smiled back, "You are incorrigible."

"You just noticed that?" Aerin said, smiling at his two friends.

"Hey, it worked, didn't it?  Do you feel any fear now?"

Katek considered their height, four stories above the street.  He felt exhilarated, but the familiar tightening of his stomach was gone.

"You see?" Lor said, not waiting for an answer, "fear of heights is a natural instinct in humans, but just like all fear, it can be overcome."

Aerin felt a moment of destiny in Lor's words; the Dreadmaster used fear as his power and perhaps that too could be conquered.

Lor poked Katek in the chest with a finger, "Besides, you are a natural up here, even better than Aerin was when he started."

"Hey!" Aerin exclaimed.

Lor smiled, "You got better."

Katek looked over the roof at the main gate into the Seat.  "So what do you think we should do?  Just watch the gate?"

Aerin considered for a moment.  "I don't know, are there any other entrances into the Seat?"

"I've heard rumors..." Lor admitted, glancing at Katek.

Katek picked up on the look and knew Lor was hiding something, "Rumors, from what source?"

"Just rumors," Lor dissembled.

"So spill it, what have you heard?" Aerin asked, trying to get Lor's thieving activities out of the discussion.

Katek smiled, "I think you have been consorting with thieves, who else would have 'rumors' about how to get into a place."

Lor frowned and gave Katek a sidelong glance, purposely ignoring him as she answered Aerin, "I seem to have heard that there may be some sort of secret entrance..."

"Entrance... exit, more like, only thieves would think of it as an entrance," Katek noted.

"And what do you know of thieves?" Lor asked the ex-gladiator in disdain.

Katek shrugged, "Nowhere near as much as you, obviously."

Aerin stared at the high walls of the Seat as if he could see through them.  "Where is the secret exit?"

Lor was openly scowling at Katek now.  "How should I know?  I just heard a stinking rumor, not where to knock, for Gedin's sake!"

Katek grinned at Lor's obvious discomfort; he figured his guesses weren't far off.  Baiting Lor was turning out to be fun with the shoe being on the other foot this time.

"Lay off her for a minute, Kat," Aerin requested.

Lor turned her piercing look on Aerin; "I don't need YOU protecting me from curious Kat here."

Aerin threw his hands up, "Fine, then please help me figure out where a secret exit could come out, I don't have much experience in this kind of thing."

From over Lor's shoulder Katek winked at Aerin, and then said: "I bet Lor hasn't got a clue, let me see if I can figure it out for you."

"This should be good," Lor noted.

"I'll bet there is a secret door down in one of the shadowy corners.  It will probably be shaped to look like a section of the stone.  The seams probably follow the lines of mortar so you can't see it," Katek improvised.

Lor looked him over with half-lidded eyes.  "Are you done?"

Katek shrugged, "Yes, you have a better idea?"

Lor ignored him and went to the wall, looking down and then around at various buildings that were placed across the street from the walls of the Seat of Stone.

"Well?" Katek inquired.

Lor held up a forefinger to signal for him to wait while she continued to study the surrounding buildings.

"I told you, she..." Katek started, but Lor interrupted him.

"The 'Exit'," she said, emphasizing the change of word, "would be reached from an underground tunnel.  If one exists, I believe I know which building has the exit.  Now, Smart-boy," she said, referring to Katek, "tell me which building you think it’s in?"

Katek looked over the street and buildings and pointed to one that was closer to the wall than the others. "There," he pronounced.

"Wrong," Lor replied happily.

"That remains to be seen," Katek defended.

Lor shrugged, "Care for a little wager?  Loser fetches hot water in the mornings for a month."

"No, not until I see your choice," Katek stated.

Lor walked to the side of the roof to their left, facing a street instead of the walls of the Seat.  She pointed pretty far up the street to an old round and squat building that had an old weathered granary sign hanging over a chained up door.  The bricks were so old that the rains had eroded them around the mortar joints.  The building was obviously old, rickety and out of use.  It looked like it was ready to be torn down.

Katek looked at its distance from the Seat and said, "You think that is the exit?  Fine then, the bet is on.  But to win your choice must have the exit within."

Lor agreed.

Aerin entered the conversation, "Which shall we check out first?"

"Mine," Lor stated, "It will save us a trip."

Katek raised both eyebrows but nodded.

"Fine, one of us should stay here and watch the main gate," Aerin suggested.

"I'll stay," Katek offered.

Lor looked surprised, "You'll trust me?"

"No," he said with a grin, "I'll trust Aerin."

Lor smiled, "You'll pay for that, Kat; I'm going to need a lot of bath water."

Katek grinned at Lor, "You know, if I win you will have to carry my bath water for a month, and if you win, well, I'll have proven that you really do know an awful lot about being a thief.  How else would you know this kind of thing?"

Lor opened her mouth in surprise, but Aerin grabbed her arm and pulled, "Come on, Lor, we need to get moving."

Lor was still sputtering when the two of them reached the empty street.  Normally there would have been more traffic, but people were huddled in their homes or gathered in common rooms around the city.  The siege had sobered a city full of people who had grown up with the thought that they were invincible.  The idea that their seat of power could be put under siege was beyond their comprehension. It was terrifying to realize that in this day and age Togroths could act together as an army instead of the small hunting bands which were occasionally seen from border watchtowers.

Aerin glanced at his upset friend, "Lor, you are going to have to stop underestimating Kat.  He isn't stupid; he just tends to think things through and then act."

Lor made no comment.

When they reached the old building they looked over the wrapped chain that barred them from opening the door.  It was surprisingly new, with two large locks that showed signs of age in their coloring, but were of newer design.

A set of lock picks appeared in Lor's fingers, but she paused when she noted Aerin smiling at the sight of them.

"Not you, too?” she asked.

Aerin put up his hands in surrender.

Lor started to pick the first lock.  "All right, you know I've permanently borrowed a thing or two in my past, but just because I've stolen doesn't give our moral 'gladiator' the right to call me a thief!” she argued in a way which Aerin saw as totally illogical.

"I don't believe he actually called you a thief," Aerin noted.

The first lock opened and Lor started in on the second.  "No, but he is pretty high and mighty about even consorting with them as if they wouldn't just laugh and slit his throat!"

Aerin didn't want to know who 'they' were, so he let her comment go by.

There was a loud 'click' from the second lock that echoed around the still street.  Aerin and Lor looked around but the streets were still empty.

As quietly as possible, Lor unwound the chain and piled it on the step below the door.  It made considerable noise, but it couldn't be helped.

"Come on," Lor whispered, opening the old door and stepping into the dark interior, so they could get off the street and out of sight.

Aerin followed his friend into the darkness, and heard her say something that sounded like, "Ooof."

"Where are you, Lor?" Aerin whispered and then something hit him in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him.

Strong hands grabbed him by the arms.  He struggled, but the first blow had sapped his strength. His invisible attackers soon had a hood over his head and his hands bound behind his back.  They tossed him into a corner, where he landed partially on stone and partially on something softer.  He realized it was a skinny body.  "Lor?” he whispered through his hood, but there was no answer.

Aerin heard the thick old door close, and then he heard the deep rumble of subdued voices speaking.  His blood ran cold when he recognized the Togroth speech he had heard twice before in his life.  This time, he could understand parts of what they said.  Much to her student’s dismay, Mara had included Tog in their instruction schedule over the past few months.

He caught the words, "Kill and eat them now?"

Blind, bound and having his future discussed as a possible meal started to break down Aerin's control and he shook in fear.

A new voice spoke in Tog, but this one came from a human throat.  Aerin couldn't make out the first thing the human said, but then he caught enough to understand the next sentence.

"…might be best.  It must be done swiftly. I will bring out the prize soon and I don't want him suspicious.  Just to make sure, let me take a look at these children before you start."

Aerin felt the air moving and someone's hand touched him.  He scrambled away and found himself against the stone wall.

Their human captor chuckled evilly, "He seems awake, let's have a look at his companion."

Aerin tried to kick in the direction of the voice to keep them from Lor's unprotected body.

Again he heard the chuckle, then the voice spoke in Tog again, "Kill him."

Aerin knew he only had seconds to live.  He remembered Mara's teachings and tried to gather in the reins of his fear, but he was terrified.  He couldn't think with the fear clouding his mind, and this might be his last chance.

A new voice spoke and Aerin started shaking in abject terror, it was the whispering voice.  This was the one that had spoken in the sewers when he had been terrified of the dead Guardsman; the same voice that had spoken to him in the Arena the day that Temmen had died.  It was the voice he associated with the Dreadmaster.

"The boy attempts to control his fear, even in your presence, Betrayer.  This is a strength I can use."

The human voice spoke again, near Aerin, and there was a note of surprise, “Yes, all the more reason to kill it."

"No, you will bring him to me.  Strength like this does not come along often, and I don't trust those prophecies, this boy could be the one."

The voice that had been addressed as 'Betrayer' answered, "I think this is a mistake, one slash of my dagger and this potential problem is dead forev..."

Betrayer was interrupted, not by the voice, but by an enormous weight of fear.  It was as if the very air had turned solid and heavy.  Aerin felt his heart stop, nothing he had ever been afraid of in his entire life was like this; it nearly killed him.

Even the unconscious Lor moved as if trying to run; though she was on her side on the floor.

Then it stopped, and Aerin's heart beat again.

Betrayer's voice was much subdued; "It will be as you ask."

"Do not question me again! This is causing me much effort to maintain cohesion, I will leave you," the whispered voice said, and then it spoke in English, "Good to see you again, Aerin."

Aerin's heart, though stopped a moment before was now beating as if trying to escape his chest.  Once again he sought control and brought it down over his rampant emotions.

"Very impressive," the voice said, then in Tog added, "Bring them both to the Chamber, along with the Trelic heir."

Betrayer answered in a more subservient tone, "Yes, Master."

As if a clamp had been removed from squeezing his heart, Aerin felt the presence leave.  Then he heard Betrayer's voice speaking to the Togroth.  "You there, pick up both of the prisoners and bring them along; otherwise, the rest of you would probably eat them while I'm gone."

A large hand grabbed the back of Aerin's tunic, and he heard the material rip. Aerin pictured the pointed black talons of the Togroth's claws piercing through.  He was lifted, like a piece of luggage.  For all his training, Aerin realized he was just that to a Togroth, nothing but a lump of meat.  From the sounds of ripping cloth, Aerin figured Lor was suspended from the beast's left hand.

From the jostling, he thought they descended stairs.  Lor's voice spoke a moment later, "Kat is going to lose."

"Lor!" Aerin said, having heard the muffled voice of his friend.

"Shut up or I will have the Tog bash you over the head again," Betrayer advised.  "Now, who is this Kat?” he asked Lor.

"Go eat crap," Lor answered.

"Punish her," Betrayer said in Tog.

There was a muffled thump and Lor groaned, "Shit eater," she managed.

"Whom were you talking about?" Betrayer asked again.

"My pet, and I won't tell you where I left him.  You would probably have these beasts hunt him down."

"An animal, good," Betrayer said.

Aerin scored one for Lor, but it was a small victory.

Betrayer spoke to the Tog, "Place them there, now return to the others and wait for me."

They were set roughly on the damp stone and they heard the echoing footsteps of the Togroth leaving back down the tunnel.  Then there was silence.

Aerin scooted around to see if he could get his fingers near Lor's bonds.

He lost a year's growth when Betrayer spoke from inches away, "I'm staying right here, and there is nothing more I'd like to do than to consume you both, so go ahead, try and escape."

Aerin stopped moving and just lay there, sweating in the cold.

"Next time one of you moves I will stick a dagger in the back of your knee and then twist it around to sever the tendons so you’ll never walk again."

Neither Aerin nor Lor attempted to move.

Time passed, and Aerin became aware of the beating of his own heart.  It seemed loud in the quiet darkness.  Try as he might, he couldn't hear any sounds to let him know if Betrayer was nearby.

But he hadn't heard him leave, and the Togroth's footsteps had echoed loudly.

Once again Aerin went over Mara's teaching and gained control over his emotions.  After he was calm he spoke to Lor.  "Are you all right?"

After a moment Lor spoke, "I'm just fine and dandy.  I like lying on the floor in the cold waiting for some sick shit to cut the tendons in my leg."

"I think he's gone.  Get hold of your emotions, we need to think."

There was a pause, and then Lor answered, "I AM in control."

Aerin, however, noted a calmer tone in Lor's voice. "Good, then let's move together and see about getting these ropes off."

Lor called out, "Hey, Betrayer, tell hero here to lay still."

Aerin answered Lor instead, "I'm sure he's gone."

"And how are you sure?" Lor wanted to know.

"I'm not, but I can't stand laying here wondering anymore!"

"All right," Lor decided, "Then hurry up and get over here!"

They both wiggled until they were close enough to touch.  Aerin tried to feel for Lor's knots.

"Relax, clumsy," Lor admonished.

Aerin relaxed and soon felt Lor's agile fingers working on the knots of the rope that bound him.

From down the corridor, they heard some sounds, though they were muffled.

"Hurry!" Aerin demanded in a whisper, wishing he'd had the courage to start this sooner.

Lor started grunting with the effort and Aerin suddenly felt the ropes loosen on his wrists.  He quickly started struggling with them and managed to drag one hand out of the loops.  He pulled the hood off of his head only to find it pitch dark anyway.

"Hurry, untie me!" Lor demanded.

Down the hallway from the way they had originally come they heard a Togroth voice and then a door opening.

"Never mind," Lor said, changing her mind, "just get me to my feet and let's move!"

Aerin dragged the bound Lor up and grabbed her upper arm to guide her, then headed away from the sounds of the Togroths behind them.

They both stumbled to their knees instantly as they ran into a stairway that started up right in front of them.

Aerin cursed and helped Lor up again and then they went up the stairs as if the Dreadmaster was in the tunnel behind them.

There was some sort of panel blocking the way at the top of the stairs, and Lor rebounded off it before Aerin could stop her momentum.  He did manage to keep her from pitching back down the stairs.  Aerin could just make out a little glow of light around the edges of the panel.

Behind them, Lor heard the sound of footsteps in the dark tunnel.

"Get us out of here!” she hissed.

Aerin didn't have time to find the catch, so he just lifted his right leg and kicked the door where he thought the catch was located.

Wood splintered, but the door held.

The footsteps started into a run behind them.

Aerin kicked again and the door flew open.

Light flooded in, blinding Aerin, but he grabbed Lor and started them running.  They were in some type of paneled hall.  Aerin thought he recognized it and made a right turn at the next intersection.

"What is happening?” the blind Lor demanded.

"We're running through a hallway," Aerin answered.

Suddenly Aerin recognized something and pulled the hooded and bound Lor to a halt.

"Wait, in here!" Aerin decided and opened a door.

He closed it behind them, and immediately started to work on the ropes at Lor's wrists, but they were knotted solidly and it would take him a few minutes to get her free.

"The hood!" Lor demanded.

Just then Aerin heard a set of running footsteps, and he paused.

Lor froze as well, but when the footsteps went by she reminded Aerin, "Hood?"

He reached for the black cloth sack that was cinched around her throat, but he heard a door open in the room next door.

"Wait," he whispered to Lor and then went to listen at the connecting door between the rooms.

Lor made a sound that pretty much summed up her frustration, but kept it as quiet as she could.

As Aerin headed for the door he heard a voice yell out loudly, "Guards, assassins in the Seat!  To Gandarel!"

"Tocor!" Aerin heard a familiar voice call out.

Aerin didn't wait longer; he opened the door and stepped into the room.

Five sets of eyes turned at this latest intrusion, and Aerin found himself the center of attention for an instant.  Then the three older men behind Gandarel returned their attention to the bald headed Quarian who stood just inside the room, holding a gray staff that was slick with yellow tog blood at both ends.

"Guards!" Hork, the High Priest of The Hand yelled again.

Six guards finally arrived, and Tocor backed into the room away from their drawn weapons.  He held his staff in a defensive posture but made no moves.

"Kill that assassin!" Hork demanded.

"Hold!" Gandarel exclaimed.

"No, he's right, guards, apprehend that man!"  Niler Corbin, head of the council, stated to the squad.

Councilman Enolive stepped before Gandarel to protect him.

The guards moved toward Tocor, who backed to the center of the room.

"Tocor," Aerin yelled, "drop your staff!"

Tocor glanced at Aerin and then tossed the staff to the ground.  It hit with a very heavy sound and didn't bounce.  Tocor straightened and placed his hands at his sides.

"Gandarel, there are Togroths coming through the secret tunnel into the Seat!" Aerin exclaimed.

"What are you talking about," Niler demanded.

Aerin continued, "We were captured at the outer exit of the secret tunnel by Togroths, they are in the old granary!"

Gandarel spoke, "You and Tocor?"

"No, Lor and I," explained Aerin.

"And Tocor?" Gandarel asked.

Tocor answered for himself, "I followed the boys into the granary later on.  He speaks the truth, though any Togs in the granary will not be entering the seat."  Here he pointed at the yellow blood on the staff at his feet.

"This story sounds false," Hork hissed.

Just then Lor stumbled into the room with her hands bound and the hood still over her head.  "I don't care what you think it sounds like! Now, will someone PLEASE take this damn hood off my head?"

At the sight of the bound up Lor, Aerin's story had some credence, and though the guards did not sheath their weapons, they stopped their advance on Tocor.

As things were straightened out over the next hour, Aerin managed to get near Gandarel and speak quietly.  "Darel, was anyone trying to get you to leave with them tonight?"

Gandarel thought for a moment.  "Niler asked me to come with him just before Hork and Enolive arrived.”

At that moment, Hork yelled, "I want him thrown in the dungeon!  He shall be burned in the fires for his sins!"

Enolive entered the debate, "Regardless of his race, he may have saved Gandarel."

"That's irrelevant; do not listen to his forked tongue! He is demon spawn, and nothing he says can be trusted!”

"The guard captain has found eighteen Togroths dead in the granary," Enolive countered.

Hork sneered, "He probably murdered his own companions to get in with Gandarel.  He must not be allowed to succeed."

"He may depart," Gandarel stated, frowning at his three advisors.

Hork stood up straighter, "You imperil your soul when you side with the darkness, Gandarel."

"So be it," Gandarel stated, and motioned to his guard captain.  "See that the Quarian and my friends are taken outside the seat, unharmed.  I am leaving this up to you, Captain."

"Yes, Milord," he answered, and collected his three charges.

A Guardsman tried to pick up Tocor's staff and cursed, it was so heavy that it took two men to lift it and carry the bloody instrument from the room.

Tocor made no comment, but the Guardsmen looked at him fearfully, the quarterstaff was made of solid steel.

When they were outside the gate of the Seat, Aerin looked up to the roof of the building where they had left Kat and waved him down.

A few minutes later Katek joined them.

"How, in Gedin's paradise, did the two of you, plus Tocor, end up coming out of the Seat?” he asked them.

"I'll expect my water hot and ready at nine tomorrow morning," was all Lor answered.

Aerin looked up at Tocor, "How did you manage to find us?"

"I arrived in time to see you and Lor working the lock on the granary, and when you did not come out, I went in," he explained, as if nothing special had transpired.

"Do we need to watch more tonight?"

Tocor shook his head, "No, I believe the excitement for the evening has concluded."

When they reached Mara she required a separate report from each of them, even Tocor.  When Aerin told her his version of the story, Mara stopped him when he got to the whispery voice that had called his captor 'Betrayer'.  "And the voice you heard called it by that name?"

"Yes, I'm sure; I'll never forget that terrible voice."

"And it said something about you being useful?" Mara asked.

"Something like that, I can't remember the exact words," Aerin admitted, "I was trying to be brave, but I was terribly scared of that voice."

"It's all right, Aerin, older men than you have done worse."

"Was it really the Dreadmaster?" Aerin finally asked.  He'd been afraid to even ask the question lest the answer be what he suspected.

"The Dreadmaster is dead, Aerin, only the echoes of its personality stain the world, though its power is waiting, intact."

"Waiting?"

"That's enough for now, I don't want to fuel your nightmares, I imagine they will be bad enough already.  You've had enough for your brain to handle in one day."

"Yes, Mara, but what should I do… I'm afraid."

"I know, and so, tomorrow we must begin the next stage of lessons on fear,” she answered, and then gestured for him to leave her room with a wave of her hand.

But Aerin had one last question: "Was tonight written about in the Dark Prophecies?"

Mara didn't answer instantly, and when she did she didn't answer his question directly.  "Once we walked further down the path of light with each day, but now we only dodge the arrows of darkness.  Go to sleep, Aerin."

Aerin went to his room and slept, but his dreams were haunted by the voice of the whisperer.

Chapter Eleven

"At the bleakest moment of the siege, an enemy long forgotten came for the heir, and fear fed its power."

-  From the Dark Prophecies

For three days the Togroths attacked, day and night.  Each time they managed a foothold on the wall they were pushed back.  Tocor and Yearl entered the fighting on the wall six times, and swiftly became legends among the Guardsmen.  At first, they feared the Quarian and showed disdain for the Willowman, but when the fighting got tough, they welcomed them on the line.  Soon word of their exploits overcame the fear and prejudice and the Guardsmen welcomed their aid.

Aerin learned of this after the third day, when he overheard two Guardsmen discussing the strange pair.  During the same time Aerin, Lor, Dono, and Katek had been keeping up their nightly watch on the gates out of the Seat.  So far nothing else had transpired on that front.  Aerin tried to get in to see Gandarel, but he was told the heir to the Seat was too busy to meet with friends.  Aerin didn't know if that came from Gandarel, but he doubted it.  Aerin just wished he could get in and warn Gandarel about the possibility of a traitor.  He still wasn't sure if there was a traitor, or if Betrayer had been an assassin from the outside.  Regardless, he knew with a certainty he couldn't explain that Betrayer was still out there and still scheming.

The promised lessons on fear had not happened as of yet, and Aerin didn't mind at all.  The siege took up all his time.  He'd watched many of the attacks from the roofs with his cohorts, but they had not gotten embroiled in the battles themselves, at least since the first night.  Being hauled like a sack of turnips by a Togroth had made Aerin a little more respectful of the Togroths than he had been.  He just wished he could have seen Tocor when he stepped into a group of eighteen slavering killers, each weighing over three hundred pounds.  Aerin still didn't know how Tocor had killed them all without taking a scratch.

As far as Aerin was concerned, Tocor could take on the whole Togroth army.

It was on the third day that Gandarel came to see Mara.  She was out when he arrived with his troop of Guardsmen.  He left them in the courtyard and went up to Mara's room.  After knocking, Gandarel tried the door and found it unlocked; Mara trusted those who had access to the inner courtyard.  Gandarel checked the courtyard and found only his Guardsmen present, so he stepped into Mara's room and looked around.

The room looked clean, like normal.  He noticed the worn wooden box on the desk and went over and opened the lid.  Inside he saw a stack of old documents.  He wondered if this was the prophecy that Aerin had looked at, the one Mara had mentioned to his council.  He picked up a few sheets and thumbed through.

His eyes caught on something and he started to read.

"…and inside the Chamber of Stone, he will know that his failure has killed his best friend.  From this day forth, the world will shed tears of blood..."

Outside Gandarel barely heard his Guards calling.  His heart pounding, he quickly put the documents back into the box, then swiftly crossed to the door and went out.

On the balcony, he looked down in time to see Lor, Dono, Aerin, and Katek reach the ground from the roofs.

"Milord, I just wanted to tell you that these four had arrived," the sergeant of his guard called up.

Aerin looked up and saw Gandarel on the balcony, he grinned at his friend.

Gandarel came down, but his eyes were haunted with the words he had just read.

Aerin came over to meet him at the bottom of the stairs and they shook sword arms.

"It's great to see you, Gandarel!" Aerin exclaimed.

"And you, Aerin," Gandarel answered, but his voice caught in his throat.

Aerin frowned, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Gandarel stated.

Aerin knew him much better than that, and told him so.  "Hey, you can't hide things from your best friend!"

That made Gandarel even more nervous.

"So, what brings you to Mara's?  Need to get back into training?" Katek asked, walking up.

Gandarel shook his head, "I wish that were the case, but I've just come to talk to Mara.  I need all the council I can get.  The Togroths are still outside the walls, but they are getting more desperate. From reports, I have heard they nearly made it into the city on the last attack.  I'm getting worried.  My councilmen are considering ordering the Guard out in a sortie, but I remember Mara saying that the Togroths would leave.  I want to know if she is guessing, or basing this on some old document.  I have to make a decision soon, and it could send many men to their deaths."

Mara came in through the front gate at that moment with Tocor at her side.  She paused on seeing the Guardsmen and then noticed Gandarel.

"How did you get away from your councilmen?” she asked in way of greeting.

Gandarel gave her a sly look, "They were meeting about the Togroth situation and I told them I had some thinking to do.  They were glad to get rid of me for the moment, I've been... a bit headstrong lately," he noted.

Aerin snickered and Lor laughed outright.

Gandarel gave them a shrug.

Mara appraised him for a moment.  "You're not here for my lessons, why then?"

Gandarel explained as he had for Aerin.

"I see," Mara stated.  "Well, I could tell you that it is written in an old prophecy, but that isn't going to convince you, is it?"

"It's not me that needs convincing," he answered.

"You are getting smarter, Gandarel," Mara noted.  "Well, let's just apply some logic.  How long have the Togroths been outside the city?”

"Three days."

"Correct, and in that time have you seen any supply wagons arrive?"

Gandarel considered the question; he had not had any report of any wagons at all.  "No."

"So, what are they eating?"  Mara asked.

Gandarel hadn't considered it.  "I guess they are foraging for food."

"No doubt and that should last an army like that about, oh… two days, and that was up a day ago."

"So you think they will leave for lack of food?"

"No."

Gandarel's head hurt, as it often did when he spoke with Mara, she would lead you down a path to a conclusion, but then tell you it was the wrong one.  "All right, what will they eat?"

"Well, they eat people.  Their first thought is going to be to eat us, and everyone inside these walls, except you, if they think about it," she explained.

"Why not me?"

"Because, unless they get too hungry and forget, you are the reason they are here."

"I don't understand this," Gandarel exclaimed.

"I know you don't, but whatever you do, don't allow them to capture you, Gandarel.  Just stick inside your Seat and don't let anyone pry you out until the Togs are gone."

"All right, I can do that, but you still haven't explained why they will leave."

"Well, after they get real hungry they're going to attack, and I mean attack like they haven't yet.  Many of them are going to die, and if we hold, they are going to start eating their own dead."

"That is disgusting," Dono noted.

Mara shrugged, "I've seen it before."

Aerin thought, You have?  But he let it go by.

"That's bad, then they can stay because they will have eaten, no matter how disgusting the meal," Gandarel said with a sigh.

"No, then they will leave.  If they were on their own, you would be right, but these Togroths are guided, and their master won't let them destroy themselves, and that's why they will leave."

Gandarel nodded.  "We won't have long to wait to see if you are correct?"

Mara shrugged, "A day or two."

Gandarel nodded again, more curtly. "I should be able to hold the council to a couple of days; they tend to deliberate longer than that on even simple matters."   Then he motioned to his guards and headed for the gates.

"Don't be a stranger, Gandarel," Mara said as he left.

Gandarel paused for a moment, but he straightened his back and headed out of Mara's courtyard.

Yearl appeared in Aerin's room that night, suddenly standing next to his desk, though Aerin hadn't even heard the door open.

"Gaa!" Aerin exclaimed, startled.

"Gaa to you too, friend Aerin," Yearl answered with a straight face.

"You startled me, don't DO that," Aerin said, his heart pounding.

Yearl waited a moment, "Is your heart at rest now?"

"Yes, as long as you don't startle me again."

"Good, then I'll risk telling you, the Togroths seemed to be hungrier than Mara said yesterday, they are attacking with everything they have.  Mara wants you and the others to arm yourselves.  We're not sure if the wall will hold."

Aerin leaped to his feet and spun around the room three times, trying to decide if he was heading for Lor's room, or grabbing a weapon first.

"They're over there," Yearl said, pointing to the corner of Aerin's small room where the weapons were in full sight.

"Yes, I know," Aerin answered, and made a growling sound in frustration.

Yearl growled back at him and then headed for the door.

"Why did you growl?" Aerin asked.  His momentary panic abated as his mind tried to take in the normally quiet Willowman growling.

"I thought we were growling goodbye, perhaps it is a human thing?"

"Huh?"

Yearl ignored him.  "Get your weapons and meet me outside," he said with a nod toward the corner.

"Right."

Outside Yearl and Aerin met with Tocor, Dono, Lor, and Katek.  Tocor was just coming down with Lor next to him.

Lor had a rapier and some knives she was busy stashing about her person.

Katek was sporting a shield and a spear while Dono had a bow and a short sword.

"Are we really going to fight?" Dono asked nervously.

Mara stepped out of the shadows by the wall, "Only if forced.  You will be staying out of the general fracas if at all possible.  Katek, bring along an extra sword."

Lor looked a little disappointed.

Aerin wondered if the extra sword was for Mara. In all the years of weapon instruction, Aerin could not remember Mara holding a weapon other than her cane.

"There will be plenty of Togroths for you to tangle with in your lifetime young lady, don't get impatient," Tocor noted.

"Promise?"  Lor asked mischievously.

"Let's go," Mara said, heading out the entrance to the street.  As far as Aerin could see she only had her cane for protection, that is, if you didn't count the rest of her lethally armed troop.  Again he wondered if the extra sword was for Mara, he just couldn't picture her carrying an actual weapon.  She'd never needed more than the cane and her wits, and when Aerin thought about it, he doubted she needed the cane.

Mara led them to Netter Street and paused outside the house where the crazy man lived.  She motioned Katek forward.

"Stick the sword into the ground, there," she ordered, pointing to a patch of ground with her cane.

Katek shrugged and stabbed the sharp point into the ground.  When he released the blade it swayed slightly as the metal flexed.

"Someone is going to steal it, if we leave it here, especially in this neighborhood," he noted.

Mara glanced into the gloom of the open door.  "Hopefully, the right person, but it's the best I can do for him, right now.  Come along," she said and headed them for the west gate.

"Where are we going?"   Aerin inquired, as they left Netter Street behind.

"We’re going to the weakest part of the defense; the wall to the south of the West gate.  That's where they will most likely break through."

Aerin didn't question how Mara knew these things if she said it he assumed she knew what she was doing.

"Shouldn't Gandarel be sending reinforcements over here then?" Katek asked.

Tocor answered him, "By now the reserves have been committed at the southern gate, where the Togs are attacking in force.  That is likely a feint; they will send the real attack at the weakest place after the reserves have been committed."

"How do you know?" Dono inquired.

"It's what I would do," Tocor noted.

As they neared the outer wall they heard the unmistakable sounds of fighting.

"It seems I underestimated their time schedule, the attack has already started," Mara noted.  "Tocor, Yearl, you best get up there and hold them down.  If any singles get through, let them go, you need to hold that wall from the ladders."

Tocor and Yearl ran for the stairs that led to the top of the wall moving at inhuman speed.

"I want the rest of you up there," she said, pointing to a rooftop with her extended cane.

Katek looked indignant, "We can fight too!  We don't need to hide."

"Listen to me, boy, your job is to warn the Seat if the Togs break through over the wall.  If you see more than single Togs making it past the defender's, I want you to run for the Seat and warn them that the walls have fallen to the east. Now heed these words: Gandarel must remain at the Seat of Stone, do not let him come to do battle."

Katek nodded, though he did not look happy.

Mara looked at Dono and Lor, "Here is what the rest of you are to do.  Dono, use your bow to pick off any Togs that make it past the wall.  Lor, pick your targets carefully, and if Dono misses, you try and nail the Tog with a dagger throw.  No heroics, you do your fighting from up here and fade if they start climbing, got it?"

Lor, Dono, and Aerin nodded.

Katek asked, "Why did we bring weapons if we aren't supposed to fight?"

Mara raised her right eyebrow but then answered: "Sometimes the fight comes to you, it's just better to be ready.  Now, Aerin, you're with Katek, your job is to keep a sharp eye out for anything out of the ordinary."

"What about you, Mara?" Aerin asked.

"I'll be down here; my body is too old to climb upon rickety rooftops today.  Don't worry, I have my cane," she noted as if it was some magical weapon.

"Mara, if you need help..." Aerin started to say.

"Get up there!” she exclaimed, pointing to their proposed perch with her cane.  "Help indeed," she muttered.

Aerin paused at the bottom of the wall, where Lor and the others had started climbing.  He was worried about Mara.  He looked back and saw her standing in the center of the square, near a short circular brick wall that marked a well.  She was leaning on her cane and looking toward the battle waging on the massive city wall.  She looked so small and frail standing alone in the street.  Aerin didn't know what he would do if he lost Mara.  At that thought, all the pain and loss of his murdered parents came back to him.  The world suddenly lurched, and there was torchlight. Aerin stood as if in the center of a cloudy looking glass.  All around him the world stretched and warped.  He saw Dono crouched over a body on the ground.  Around them on the floor, he saw bodies, Togroths, and humans, all slaughtered. Dono turned and there was anguish on his face.

"Get Mara, I need her help!” he called desperately.

Katek, his arm bloody, stepped into Aerin's strange view and spoke, his voice held pain, "Don't you remember?  Death came for her and she's gone."

Aerin saw another version of himself run to Dono's side and kneel down by the body.

Slowly Aerin's warped view of the scene moved as he tried to see who it was that lay on the ground.

As his view shifted, more and more of the bloody body came into view, and Aerin stared in horror, he knew who it was even before the bloody face came into view.

"She needs help, Aerin!"  Dono said, and it echoed strangely.

"I... there is nothing I can do, she's dead," Aerin heard his own voice say.

Suddenly he staggered and the world was dark and cold again.  Katek was calling down to him from above.  "What's wrong?"

Aerin looked around, but there were no bodies, and Mara still stood alone in the street.  He looked up and saw Dono, Lor, and Katek looking down at him in puzzlement.

Aerin shook off the strange vision and started to climb.

When he reached the top, Dono pulled him over the edge and Lor growled at him.  "What were you goggling at?"

"It was strange, I was thinking about Mara and I was concerned that we were leaving her alone when suddenly there were torches and bodies..."

"Did the Togroths get past Tocor and Yearl?" Katek demanded.

"I... I don't know, I don't think so.  What I saw wasn't real, but you were all there," Aerin tried to explain.

"Gedin, that's all we need, daydreaming at night," Lor said in disgust.  "Maybe you are still asleep?” she suddenly slapped him a good one across the mouth.

"Ow... hey!" Aerin exclaimed.

"There, you're good and awake now."

"I already was," he growled.

"You didn't sound like it," she replied with a quick flash of a grin.

Katek called to them, "Hey, get over here, something got over the wall."

They all went to the edge of the roof and looked down.  Dono already had his bow out and was sighting down the shaft.

"Don't shoot until we know what it is," Aerin advised.

The building beneath their feet suddenly shook from the deep impact of some massive weight striking stone.

Dono forgot to keep aiming and looked at the other boys, "What, in Gedin's ship, was that?"

"There!" Katek pointed, he was still watching the street below.

A dark shape moved from shadow to shadow.

"That's no Togroth, it isn't large enough.  Hold your fire, Dono," Lor stated.

The dark shape was trying to skirt the square, and stay out of the pools of moonlight.

Mara's voice called out in that same language that Aerin had heard her speak once before in the Seat, it wasn't Tog, or common, for that matter.

The dark shape paused, then gave up on the dark shadows and came toward Mara in a crouch.  A wicked looking broad-bladed ax was in its hands.

"That's no Guardsman!" Katek exclaimed.

The man who approached Mara lowered a black cloth that was obscuring his face, revealing dead white skin.  The eyes seemed to glow with their own inner light as he approached.

The sight froze the boys; the man had an unreal quality that mesmerized them, like a moth to a light at night.

Mara laughed and said something in the strange language.

The man stopped his approached, and his face twisted into a sneer of pure hatred, it was an expression like none the kids had ever seen before.

"Loose your arrow!" Aerin suddenly yelled, free from the frozen tableau.

Dono started at his outburst, but then readjusted his aim and let fly.

At Aerin's yell, the white man paused and looked up, just in time to take the arrow in his chest.

Again the building shook with a deep impact, though it seemed unrelated to what was happening down in the square.

The arrow hit with good force from the downward shot, sounding more like an arrow hitting a solid log than a wet human body.  It didn't faze the white man, who leaped with raised ax toward Mara.

Mara sidestepped his leap, and her cane tangled in his legs.  He stumbled toward the well that had been behind her, and suddenly his movements were of a man in panic.  Mara stepped behind the stumbling man and pushed his upper back with the tip of her cane.

He fell on top the short wall of the well. Mara nimbly hooked his ankle with the crook of her cane, which lifted him up and over the edge.  His shriek froze the blood of the young watchers on the roof; it was not a yell that a human voice could achieve.  There was a splash, followed by more horrible sounds of struggle and shrieks of pain.  It went on for what seemed like an eternity, and then something rose out of the well.

A cloud of green haze coalesced above the well for a moment, and then sped off to the east.

Mara watched it go.  When all was still, she glanced up toward the roof and pointed to the city wall, clearly telling them to get their eyes back on business.

"What, in Gedin’s beard, was that?" Lor demanded.

Another sound of smashing stone occurred, accompanied by their building shaking again.

No one said anything for a moment.

Lor poked Aerin, "You're the one who has had his nose in all the books, what was that thing?"

"I'm not positive," he tried.

"So guess," Lor demanded.

Aerin took a deep breath, "It was probably a Wraith."

"Wraith... as in the dark spirits that come to steal children," Katek scoffed.

Aerin shrugged, "Lor asked me to guess, don't blame me when I do.  Besides, Mara said they are real."

"Why do you think it was a Wraith?" Dono shuddered, remembering the sound of the arrow striking what seemed like wood.

"It's shrieks, I've read that they can freeze a foe with a shriek.  You must admit, that wasn't a sound you've ever heard a human make," Aerin noted.

"It was just the well amplifying his voice," Katek stated, though his voice wasn't as sure as it had been.

Right then, the ground shook again, with that same dull impact sound of rending stone.

"What, in Gedin's name, IS that?" Lor demanded.

Dono sounded puzzled.  “It can't be an earthquake, it's too regular."

"I don't like this, I don't like this at all," Aerin exclaimed.

Along the top of the wall, men were shouting and Aerin spotted Yearl gesturing for the Guardsmen to get back.  Aerin saw Tocor approach the wall and look over the edge.  The booming impacts continued, shaking bricks free from the walls of nearby buildings.  A giant red hand, with three fingers and a thumb, came over the top of the wall, ripping away the massive stones.  A second hand appeared and ripped away more stones.  One hand plummeted down to the stone top of the wall, digging into the hard stone with long black fingernails, creating a handhold for the creature that raised itself onto the top of the wall.

Overwhelming fear smote the observers and, as one, their arms and hands raised as they tried to block out the horror before their eyes.  Though they blocked their vision, their minds were unable to withstand the thought of seeing the eldritch horror that pulled itself over the massive wall.

Aerin steeled himself to look, but the effort was too great.  Peeking from the corners of his wide eyes, Aerin caught a glimpse of hell through the interlaced fingers that were before his face.  The Beast's eyes were dark soulless pits, and its wide grin held more long pointed teeth than Aerin thought possible.  Black shining horns came out of the sides of its head and sinuously curved around to point the sharp tips forward.  Massive bulging muscles rippled under the thick, red, hairless skin of its shoulders, as the tall creature raised itself to its full sixteen-foot height on the top of the wall.

Aerin's eyes locked shut in terror as tears streamed down his face, but through an incredible effort of will, he pried his eyes open for a moment and saw something he thought he would never witness, Tocor was backing away from the creature, retreating down to the square below.

At the quarian's movement, the creature’s eyes locked on him and a long thin forked tongue licked out between its numerous teeth, the tail that emerged from the end of its spine thrashed back and forth with a mind of its own.

The young terrified observers on the rooftop were of the same mind, without conscious decision they backed away and got out of sight of the horror that had come out of their nightmares and into their city.

As they scrambled around the corner of the building, the horrible creature that had risen from some pit of hell spoke.  The voice that issued from its throat was that of a thousand tortured human voices all speaking at once in nearly perfect unison.  The force of the sound shook the ground.

"It is your time, Lizard Prince," the beast declared.

Once out of the direct line of sight from the creature, the kids were able to function again.  All of them were breathing hard as if they had run a five-mile race.

"Gedin help us, what is that thing?" Dono cried.

"I don't know, but it's going to kill Tocor and Mara," Aerin said, remembering his vision of Mara having died.  "I'm going for help; you stay here and see where it goes.  Lor, make sure you stay up here, no matter what happens!”

Lor smacked him mildly across the mouth with her right hand: “I’ve warned you about treating me like a girl!”

To everyone’s surprise, especially Lor, Aerin punched her in the mouth, which knocked her to the rooftop.

He stood over his friend and pointed at her as he said, “Lor, get this straight, I’m WAY over the thought of treating you like a girl. I am telling you, that if you, not Dono, not Katek, if YOU go to the street you will die.  Trust me on this, I've SEEN it.”

Without waiting for his shocked friends to react, Aerin headed over the rooftops toward the Seat of Stone.

After Aerin was gone, Lor got to her feet and wiped a little blood from her lip with the back of her hand.

“I guess you better stay up here,” Dono noted.

Lor glowered at him, “Like hell.  Come on, we’re going to circle around and approach Mara’s position from the street.  I’ll bet she is going to try and stand up to that... thing.”

"But Aerin…”

“Doesn’t know everything.  Are you coming with me?” Lor asked while taking a couple steps toward the neighboring rooftop.

“Shit,” Dono exclaimed, and looked at Katek.  “I’ve got to go with her when she gets this headstrong you never know what she’ll do.  You coming or staying?”

“I’m not staying alone,” Katek decided, the fear they all felt was still riding just under their skin.

“Then let’s get going, I guess we’re in for it now.”

There was a horrible bellow of a thousand tortured voices from the nearby street.

The three kids felt sudden fear strike and they froze, and then Yearl was there, and his abrupt arrival nearly caused the three kids to jump from the roof.

"Gedin, where did you come from?”  Lor said suspiciously, she didn't like the thought that someone could sneak up on her on the High Road.

Yearl was all business.  "Mara wants you all away from here, now!  You're feeding the Dreadbeast!"

"What do you mean?" Katek asked in confusion.

"I don't have time to explain, I must return to Mara, NOW.  Flee these buildings, and get as far from here as you can.  GO!” he yelled.  It was the first time they had ever heard Yearl raise his voice.

They went, flying over the rooftops in their haste.

By the time they looked back Yearl was gone.

Ten roofs away, Lor slowed.  "I'm not running away! How do they know we might not be able to help?"

"Lor, they said we were 'feeding' that thing, I don't know what that means, but I'm sure it isn't good," Katek noted.

"We'll approach slowly and carefully, if we notice anything, we'll fall back if necessary, all right?"

Katek thought about it for a moment, and then nodded, "I'm ready to do battle."

"Has everyone lost their mind?" Dono noted but followed his friends down to the streets.

Aerin arrived at the front gate of the Seat and dropped to the streets.  There was a large crowd of people at the gate, pounding on it and screaming.

Aerin wormed his way through the crowd to the front and wondered how he could get through to the Guardsmen.

At that moment the gate opened slightly, just wide enough for a Guardsman to half step out.  “You people, get back and stop pounding on the gate!  The Guard is already doing all it can!”

“Let us in the Seat, before the monsters get in!” someone yelled.

“They won’t get in, and we can’t fit the entire city inside the Seat.  Go to your homes and let us do our jobs!”

Aerin knew the Guard wasn’t going to listen to him while he was just one of the crowd, so he crouched down and suddenly dove in, angling through the door and between the Guardsmen’s feet.

The Guardsman was alert, and too quick to allow anyone past, and managed to reach down and grab Aerin by the belt.  The crowd saw him part way in and surged forward.

Cursing, the Guardsman yelled to the men behind him, and they pulled him back in, slamming the gate.  In doing so they pulled Aerin in as well since he was attached to the man’s leg with both arms.

As soon as the door was barred and the crowd held safely outside, the man hauled Aerin to his feet and glared at him.

“Now you’re in trouble, boy!”

“I’m here to warn Gandarel of a break in the outer wall defense!”

The man growled at him, “And what makes you think… wait a minute.  You’re that boy we’re supposed to... damn... Herold, get over here, this is the lad that Milord Trelic instructed was to have free pass to see him."

The man named Harold stepped forward and looked at Aerin as if he was a turnip.  "Indeed, well lad, now tis not a good time to bother Milord Trelic.  Come back in a few days and…"

Aerin interrupted the well-meaning guard, "I must see Gandarel, now.  I have news about the attack!"

"He says there is a break in the wall defense,” the first Guard explained.

"Lad, leave this business to the Guard, we have already sent the reserves to hold the break," Harold explained.

Aerin shook his head wildly, "No, it's not at the South Gate; it’s in the East Wall!  A great beast climbed the wall and smashed the top.  Togroths will soon pour in, we must send help!"

Harold frowned, and then looked at the other Guardsmen.  "Milord did say he was to have access.  I'll go and see if he will see you, or at least hear your story from me."

"Bless you, but please, hurry!  My friends are in danger and they are trying to hold them back."

A few minutes later Gandarel appeared, following Harold.  More Guardsmen followed behind.

"Aerin, what is this I hear about an attack?"

Aerin quickly explained the situation back by the wall, as best he could.  When he told of the red-skinned giant that had scaled the wall, even Gandarel looked skeptical.

"The lad's imagination is getting the best of him," one Guardsman said, but when Aerin tried to defend himself the man quickly added, "It happens, lad, you see strange things in the heat of battle sometimes, especially at night.  Shadows, excitement, blood lust, all combine to fog the mind."

"Think what you may, but I know what I saw," Aerin answered.

Gandarel made a quick decision.  "Get all my personal Guardsmen together, and have them arm themselves.  We head for the breach immediately."

"But , Milord, perhaps we should consult the..."

"This is an emergency, we go NOW!  Assemble my men and have my armor and weapons brought out.  Bring lit torches."

"Yes, Milord," the man replied and ran to follow his orders.

"Gandarel," Aerin said, "Mara told me that you must not come to the battle.  You have to remain within the Seat of Stone."

"I'll do no such thing.  I may not be the Warlord yet, but, by Gedin, I will uphold our family's position even so!  I appreciate Mara's concern, but it is that of a mother hen.  I am nearly a man now, I make my own decisions."

"But..."

"I will lead this counter attack," Gandarel stated with new authority in his voice.

Harold spoke to Aerin and his voice was proud.  "He sounds like his father now, the steel in his blood has bred true!  The Regent may not have given his blessing yet, but he is already our Warlord!"

The other Guardsmen around them nodded or called out, "Hear, hear!"

Torches were passed out among the soldiers and within minutes, the gates were pulled open.  The crowd surged forward for a moment, but the armored Guardsmen pushed them back. Many of those present thought they were coming to disperse the crowd.  The panicked people broke like a wave on the hard rocks of the coastline.  They turned and fled.  The heavily armed elite soldiers were Gandarel’s personal Guardsmen, handpicked from the toughest and best of the border guard.  Every one of these men was a veteran of battle.  Gandarel led them in a quick march across the city toward the East Wall.

As they marched, the flickering torchlight cast odd shifting shadows on the walls of buildings, and Aerin remembered his vision of uniformed Guardsmen dead on the stones, the scene lit by torchlight.  He wondered if he was going insane.

Aerin felt a dark foreboding and wondered who would die this night.

When they neared the east wall the sounds of battle greeted them.  The sound of many running feet echoed from around the corner, and suddenly there were Togroths attacking.

Battle was engaged and men died, but Gandarel's Guardsmen were well trained; they were all veterans of border fights against small bands of Togroths.  They outnumbered the beasts and swiftly put them all down.

The two boys were at the back of the pack, well defended, and the Togroths did not reach them.  When the skirmish was over, they continued around the corner into the square before the wall.

Aerin couldn't believe what he saw.  When he had last seen this square it had been from the roof and all except the top of the wall had been as normal.  Now three buildings were destroyed, leaving only piles of brick and torn wood.  Fires raged in the wreckage, lighting the scene.  Togroth bodies lay everywhere, with dead Guardsmen mixed in amongst them.

Around one of the piles of destroyed building the battle was still waging, as more Togroths came over the damaged and undefended portion of the wall.

Gandarel barked orders to his men.  "You men," he said, pointing with his arm, "get to the top of the wall; we need to cut off the Togroths reinforcing those within… the rest of you, into the battle!"

Gandarel ran with those headed for the wall while the Guard Captain led the second group into the battle.

Aerin ran with Gandarel.  As he passed the dead bodies on the recent battleground, he searched for Mara, or Lor, with fear but he did not see his friends.

Aerin and Gandarel fought beside the Guardsmen. They stabbed at climbing Togroths before they could crest the wall, or pushed ladders off using a poleax they grabbed from the dead body of a Guardsman. The battle seemed to go on forever, but finally, the wall was free of ladders and once again solely in the hands of the humans.

Gandarel left most of his men on the wall and went to see how the battle fared below.  They found the battle just over; the Togroths within the walls were all dead.  Many Guardsmen were also down, dead or wounded.

Once again, Aerin looked among the fallen for his friends.  His heart suddenly leaped into his throat when he saw Dono kneeling by a smaller body.

Like in his vision, Aerin ran to kneel next to his friend, but this time, Gandarel was with him.

As he neared, Aerin saw that it was not Lor, but Katek who was down.  As he arrived Katek sat up with a grin.  He had a nasty cut through his right biceps, which Dono was trying to staunch with a rag.

Katek pulled the bandage away and exclaimed in excitement: "I have my first battle scar!"

"Great," Gandarel said in sarcasm.  "I think you should try to avoid these things, not revel in them."

Dono pushed the rag back into the flowing blood.

"Where are Lor and Mara?" Aerin asked, still worried.

"I am right here," Mara stated from a few yards away.  "But why, may I ask, are you here, Gandarel?"

They looked over to see their imperturbable teacher standing and leaning on her cane.

"I led my Guardsmen in battle, as befits the Warlord of the realm," Gandarel stated strongly.

Mara scowled at him.  She looked and spotted Gandarel's Guard Captain.  "You, get this boy to safety, he should not be here now."

The Guardsmen came over.  "I take my orders from Milord Trelic, not you."

Mara faced Gandarel, "Get back to the Seat..." and here she forced another word, "...please?  This whole army is here just to take you!  Do not let them win, Gandarel."

Gandarel nodded.  "Our work here is done, half of you stay on the wall until relieved, the other half with me, we're returning to the Seat."

"Where is Lor," Aerin asked again.

A small leather bag hit Aerin in the back of the head.

"That's for punching me!" Lor said, and stepped into the torchlight from the shadows.  She held a bloody sword in her right hand.  "I helped some Guardsmen kill a Togroth!” she exclaimed.

Thunderclouds brewed over Mara's brow.  "I thought I told you kids to stay on the roofs?  Why is Gandarel outside the Seat?  Have my teachings been in vain?"

"We had to come to your rescue, or at least, we thought we should," Lor explained, deflating slightly.  "We couldn't find you, but we ran into the Guardsmen fighting the Togroths and helped!" Lor explained.

Gandarel looked at Mara defiantly.  "I came on my own authority, as future Warlord.  I will not be coddled or locked away like a child!"

"You are still a child, but there is a more important reason," she tried to explain.

"I know about your belief that I am the reason the Togroths are here, but I cannot, and will not, hide behind the skirts of midwives back in my rooms while my city falls!"

Mara sighed.  "Gandarel, there is more to this, and I'm willing to explain, if you will but come and hear my reasons.  I promise you will not be disappointed."

"Perhaps, but much depends on my councilors, I will try," Gandarel promised.

Aerin suddenly looked around.  "Where are Tocor and Yearl?"

Mara looked troubled.  "Yearl is around somewhere, but Tocor is chasing the Dreadbeast."

"Dreadbeast?" Lor said in puzzlement.

"I had no idea that another had been raised or brought to the battle.  It was one of the Risen, or as some call it, a Dreadbeast," she explained.

"Tocor is chasing that thing?" Aerin said in disbelief.

"Yes, it is wounded, but still dangerous.  We couldn't allow it to get to Gandarel.  I just hope..." she paused, as if noting she was speaking aloud, "Tocor will be all right," she finished, but Aerin knew that wasn't what she was about to say.  Mara looked worried, and that was something Aerin had never seen on her face before.

Mara helped Dono tend to Katek's wound.  She frowned at the boy but said nothing further about his entry into the battle.  When the blood flow was stopped, Mara stood and Dono helped their friend to his feet.

"The excitement is over now, so let's head back to the Villa.  There is much we must discuss and do tomorrow.  It is time you all learned about what is to come and more of what your part will be.  I have kept too much from you, and tonight it hurt us.  It is time you all learned, but you will not thank me for this knowledge, nor the learning of it,” Mara explained as she led them away from the bloody battleground.

Chapter Twelve

"I saw a man, but his face was a blank slate.  He stood with his hand on the shoulder of the future and he stained it with blood."

- From the Dark Prophecies

The next day found Gandarel before the council at an early hour.  They, for once, agreed with Mara completely.  They were furious when they found that he had left the Seat in command of his personal Guard and entered the battle in the city.  They lectured him for two hours on his foolishness, his lack of respect, his overstepping of authority and his childish behavior.  Gandarel sat silently through it all.  Even his friend Enolive was angry with him.  The council was finally getting around to a plan when someone started pounding on the council room door.

"Now who, in Gedin's ship, is interrupting the council?" Niler demanded.

Again the person pounded on the door.

"Come in, damn you!" Niler yelled in an undignified voice.

The door opened and a Guardsman stepped into the chamber.

"What is so impor…" Niler started to yell when the Guardsman interrupted him.

"The Togroths have left!"

"…tant that you would... left?" Niler finally said when the man's words got through.

"Every last one of them, even the dead ones are gone!"

"Eaten, you mean," Gandarel noted in a quiet voice.

The Guardsman shrugged, "I don't know, Milord, but there ain't no sign of them other than the marks on the ground… it's a miracle."

"One that Mara predicted," Gandarel noted.

"She didn't predict it, Gandarel," Enolive noted, "the Prophecy she subscribes to did, she just got lucky this time."

Gandarel nodded, but he decided to go see Mara, as she had requested the night before.

"Thank you Guardsman, but NEXT time, don't come pounding on the door as if the Togroths had…" Niler thought about what he was saying and changed it to, "just don't pound so hard on the council door."

The Guardsman gave a minimal bow of acknowledgment and turned to go.

"Well, the woman was right about the Togroths leaving, but she was wrong about the dire consequences of you staying.  It seems that your attack last night even ended the siege," Enolive noted to Gandarel.

It was the first bit of praise that Gandarel had heard, and his heart warmed.

Niler scowled at Enolive, "Regardless of the outcome, this time, Gandarel, when you foolishly risk yourself without consulting..."

Gandarel sighed heavily as the lectures started again.

The next morning, Aerin waited some time for Mara to come down from her room.  Eventually, he got up the courage to go looking for his teacher, only to find her gone.

He was puzzled and a little concerned.  He checked the stables and found her wagon gone as well.  Mara never took her wagon out.

Her student’s concern grew over the next three days when Mara did not return.  They were just discussing an expedition outside the city to find her when Yearl opened the gates and Mara's wagon trundled in with their teacher at the reins.

"Mara!" Aerin exclaimed as relief washed over the young man.

"That is what I call myself," she noted.

"We've been worried!  What happened?"

Mara got down from the driver's bench and went to the back of her wagon.  "Many things and none of them are good.  Tocor was hurt and I went to find him.  It took longer than I thought, or I would have left you a message before I left.  You have my apologies.  Now help me get Tocor to his room."

"Tocor?" Aerin asked.

"He's wounded."

"Tocor!" Aerin asked in a surprised voice.  "Is he..."

Tocor's deep rumble came from inside the wagon, "I'm fine, my young friend, I am just a little worse for the wear."

Relief flowed through Aerin.

"Fetch those crutches that we made for Dono when he sprained his ankle," Mara commanded.

Aerin ran to get them and nearly flattened Lor who came out of her room at that moment.

"Mara's back and Tocor was wounded," Aerin yelled.

Lor's eyes widened, they all thought Tocor was made out of steel.

When Tocor finally emerged from the back of the covered wagon, they saw that his right leg was bandaged below the knee.  He had to hunch over to use the short crutches, but they helped him get to his room.

"Can you believe it, Tocor, wounded," Dono said to Katek a few minutes later.

"I'll bet it took hundreds of them, all at once!" Aerin noted.

"It only took one," Mara stated, as she came up behind the group of friends who were sitting on the practice yard ground.

The kids looked up at her in disbelief.

"You will understand why in a few minutes when we talk about what happened during the siege," she explained.

Aerin followed his teacher to the side of the courtyard.  "Gandarel has been by, three times, looking for you."

Mara nodded, "I'm sorry I missed him, but it couldn't be helped."  She settled herself onto the bench that sat by one of the large support columns for the upstairs balcony.  Her students arranged themselves around her feet in a semi-circle.

They waited as she gathered her thoughts.  Her eyes were fixed on the top of her cane that she clenched with both hands, but her mind was far off.  Then she looked up at her expectant students and spoke.  Her words were not what they expected.

"It was a dark time in the history of our world, darker than you can imagine.  It was the time of the Dreadmaster Maugh.  The siege you just went through was nothing in comparison to the terror and anguish that had become life for the people.  The Dreadmaster reigned supreme and no one could stand up to his power. Every person alive was kept in a constant state of fear, and the more they feared the greater his power became.

“But there were those who resisted, and they began to meet in secret, to search for a way to end the fear.  They kept their groups small.  Each person knew only the names within their own group, though they knew many other groups existed.  This kept any one group from betraying the whole when captured, or possessed, and tortured by the Dreadmaster, or his minions.  In these tight-knit groups, they discovered the strength to resist the fear of the Dreadmaster.  They discovered that the power to resist grew stronger with the bond of friendship. The closer they became, the greater was their resistance to the Dreadmaster's fear and thus, his ability to enter their minds.

“This power to resist the fear soon began to infuse the very meeting places of these bonded groups and became havens from the daily fear.  Eventually, they discovered this fact and came up with the idea of pooling all this power of resistance into one place.  They searched for a secret place to accomplish this dream and found it deep within the mountains of the Dragonback.  There they discovered a cave network, a labyrinth of tunnels and chambers with many entrances.  A place was chosen at the roots of the mountains, and only a few knew the way.  Blindfolded, they would guide in the other's, so that the secret could be kept, and those that knew the way never left so that they could not be captured or possessed.  It took many years, but eventually a place of such strong power was created, that it was proof against the power of the Dreadmaster.

“They gathered there one day, all of them; the majority of all free humans left on the face of the planet.  For the first, and last time, they met, and the Dreadmaster learned of it, but he was too late to stop the meeting.  Together, in this place infused with the strength of friendship, they were too powerful for him to get into their minds, and he writhed in anger and hatred, sending his creatures hunting in the maze, or waiting outside the caverns to exact punishment.

“The people had created a place of raw power, but they did not know how to use it to defeat the Dreadmaster.  It was not mobile since the power was infused into the very rock.  Eventually, the people knew they would have to leave the protection of the caves or starve.  Then they came up with the idea of infusing the power into a human.  Oddly, it was the example of the Dreadmaster's power that sparked the idea.  The accumulation of all fear was infused into his body and became a power he could use.

“And so they decided to enable their power to inhabit the body of a human who would then do battle against the Dreadmaster.  But they were worried, what if they created another Dreadmaster? What if once they bestowed this awesome power into a man, it was abused?  So, as one, they used their combined wills to create a test within the caverns.  It is a test where only compassion, friendship, and sacrifice will suffice to pass.

"To help identify and honor those who passed the test, a mark was created as part of the ceremony in the form of golden chains on their wrists.  These represented the link between the person and their promise to protect the people of the land from the oppression of the Dreadmaster.  Those few who wore the chain marks were named NexLords, for they were the connection point of many lines of power, as you will learn presently.

“Then each and every human within the caverns used their combined emotional power to will the vision of this test into the very stone of the mountain roots.  Their need, purpose, and combined emotion have never been equaled, and they were successful.  They created the Chamber and the Wall.

“When a person true of heart is willing to enter the stone, and can pass the test, they will emerge with the power of the Nexus within them, but if they fail, they will die locked within the stone forever.

“This is the power of the Nexus, and over time, eight brave souls have entered the Wall to take the NexLord test.  Seven of them emerged from the Wall, with the golden chain marks of a NexLord engraved into their wrists; one was never seen alive again.

“Upon learning of their deed, the Dreadmaster was furious.  He was the master of all races and these people had defied him. For days he had been cut off from the nectar of their fear, and as they emerged from the cavern he viciously attacked their minds.  Many tried to escape, but he captured nearly ten thousand and locked them in the vast dungeons below his fortress so that he could torture them for their insolence.  He kept them in fear for many years but kept their hopes of rescue alive just enough that they feared death.  Then he tortured them until they feared to live.  Finally, he gathered all this power and sought within their tortured minds for their deepest fears.  Using the accumulated power of their fear, he raised nine of their worst nightmares.  These were named the Dreadbeasts, though they are still often referred to as the Risen.  Each was different, each was powerful, and each was infused with the fear of thousands of tortured souls.

“These abominations rose from the corpses of the people whose fear had created them.  The Dreadmaster converted the tortured prisoner’s bodies into their own visions of horror, and then he loosed these deadly beings upon the world, as punishment for all those who had resisted his rule.

"Eight brave men and women entered the Wall of testing and seven became NexLords ready to do battle with these new horrors.  Over time, five of the seven NexLords were killed along with their bondsmen, but some of the Risen fell as well and it cost their Master dearly to raise them again.

“At the end of that great struggle, the remaining free people were led by the last surviving NexLords in a battle at the Kitrick wall.  Many died, but at long last the Dreadmaster Maugh was killed."

"But he is still..." Aerin started to say, but Mara held up a finger to still his voice.

She started again: "Maugh's body was killed, and the people thought him gone forever, but the Dreadmaster's power, the fear that had infused Maugh, remained.

“Remember, Maugh was not the first Dreadmaster, before him there was Logan.  Long ago, in all but forgotten times, the first Dreadmaster sought to conquer the world, but luckily the angel Gedin saved us.  But as time went by, people forgot Logan's evil, and they grew careless until an evil man took up the power of the Dreadmaster and nearly destroyed the world.  Even now, after the reign of the second Dreadmaster, they haven't learned, for the essence of fear, the very power of the Dreadmaster only waits to claim another person.  Eventually, the Dreadmaster's power of fear will take a new host and the horror will return."

Mara stopped and there was a moment of silence.  Her students had never heard the story told this way, though they had each heard bits and pieces of this tale through bards and song, as well as stories and poems.

Aerin knew more than the rest of them, from his father’s books, but this version told the story in a new light.

Aerin had a question: "Mara, is that what came over the wall the night of the battle, one of the Risen?"

Mara appraised him for a moment.  "Yes, Aerin, you have indeed discovered the truth.  That was the Dreadbeast known as Insanity; it has been brought back and has risen again.  With the Dreadmaster's power crippled, I did not think it could achieve sufficient fear to raise one of the Dreadbeasts; at least not until it had found a new host body.  I did not know that it could achieve such power in this state, so I did not anticipate a Dreadbeast.  Not only has he brought at least one back, but the Dreadmaster has shown that he wants Gandarel, and was willing to reveal one of his most horrible powers to get him."

"But wait, what does he want with Gandarel?  Does he want to kill him?"

Mara looked away for a moment.  "Not all of this is clear; there are things that puzzle me, as well.  I do know that the Dreadmaster cannot allow Gandarel to enter the Chamber of the Nexus, for he too must know of the Prophesies of Gold.  However, I believe he has some other use for Gandarel, for he has not tried to kill the boy, only abduct him.  This could change at any time, and perhaps it already has, since the attempts to abduct him have failed.  The closer we get to Gandarel's test, the more likely the Dreadmaster will try to have him murdered."

"Wait a minute, what is this you said about Gandarel in the Chamber of the Nexus?" Lor demanded.

"Gandarel is to be the new NexLord.  He is destined to battle the power of the Dreadmaster," Mara answered simply; "you should know that by now, Lor."

"Gandarel?  He is going to take this 'test' you spoke of, that was created so long ago?" Lor demanded.

"Yes," Mara answered directly, looking Lor in the eye.

"And what of us?  You have been training us as well.  Are we to enter this test?  ‘Cause if this is true, I think you should have told us that..."

"No," Mara interrupted.  "You will not enter the Wall of the Chamber Lor; not you, Aerin, Katek or Dono.  You will not enter, and nothing else will be required of you against your will.  Only Gandarel will go through the Wall."

"Oh," Lor said and her indignant expression faded.  Then it was replaced with one of annoyance, "What's so important about him?  I can take him in a fight."

"I think Gandarel would have something to say about that," Aerin noted with a smile for his friend.

Mara also smiled.  "I see that you have gone from, 'I don't want it' to 'Why can't I have it' quite rapidly."

Lor looked unhappy.

"It's not a matter of fighting skill, Lor.  It's more a matter of personality and strength of commitment.  NexLords are the glue that holds their people together.  Only those pure of purpose and clear of their role can enter and succeed.  Gandarel has been prophesied as the new NexLord, and he will enter the Wall to take his test, of this I have little doubt."

"Then why are you teaching us?"

"Bondsmen," Aerin said, though the question had been to Mara.

"Bondsmen!" Lor declared with suspicion in her voice.  "What does that entail?"

"I don't know that you can all become Bondsman, it isn’t clear who will and who will not.  I do know that it is likely that some of you will.  For that reason, I have been training you so that you will be ready if the time ever comes.  As to what they are, there is time for you to learn your duties and powers as we progress."

The students chewed on that for a few moments in silence.

"Bondsman doesn't mean, 'servant', does it?" Lor demanded at last.

"No, Lor, it means 'friend' more than anything, but a closer friend than most people ever find.  Bondsman give and receive, they share in the NexLord's power.  Remember that I told you of the concern about giving the power to a human, and their fear of creating a new Dreadmaster, or worse?  The creators of the nexus built in a check and balance to the NexLord's power.  He is nothing without his friend's, and they have the power of life and death over the NexLord.  Should a NexLord betray and break just one bond in his life, he will die, instantly.  That is the power a Bondsman has over the NexLord. When the NexLord makes the bond he gives the power of his life into the hands of his friend, forever."

"Wow, you mean if the Bondsman doesn't like the NexLord anymore..."

"He dies," Mara said quietly.

"I don't think Gandarel will trust any of us with his life!" Katek noted.

"He will trust some of you, or he will trust someone else, but Bond he must if he would use the power of the Nexus, and he must do that or we will all perish," Mara noted in a serious voice.

Her students paused quietly, as they digested all of this information.  Mara waited patiently.

"When must Gandarel go to this 'Chamber'?" Dono asked.

"Soon, Dono, though I don't know the exact time, but it won't be long.  There are certain, 'events' that will take place, and then I will know.  One of them has passed, and Gandarel did not go, so now we are on a new path of destiny," Mara noted.

"These 'Dark Prophecies' you spoke of," Aerin noted.

"Yes, they are a set of divinations that I have worked years to keep from happening, but there is no help for it now.  Much that I thought would come to pass, will not, and much that I feared may come true.  It seems that we will return to the dark time, once again," she added at the end, more quietly.

"How do you know these prophecies are true?" Aerin asked.

"The return of the Risen is one such example of the Dark Prophecies coming true.  I didn't see its exact form from the words, but now it is clear.  Prophecy is often like that, you know what you think it means, but it may come true in unforeseen ways."

"You said, after the battle, that we would not like what you will teach us, I think I understand that now," Lor noted.

"No Lor, you do not.  For the next thing, I must teach you all is how to face your fears.  You see, during that battle you all feared the coming of the Risen, but what you don't realize is that your fear made it stronger.  The Dreadbeast Insanity exudes fear, which causes even greater fear in people around it.  It eats the fear emanating from its victims and that makes it constantly stronger.  The way to diminish its power is to cut Insanity off from fear so that it gives off power with no return.  That is why I had Yearl send you away from its presence.  I had no idea we would be facing one of the Dreadbeasts of old, and you have not been properly prepared to handle your fear."

"I'm sorry, Mara, I could hardly breathe.  I don't think I could ever stand up to that thing without fear," Aerin noted.

"You can, Aerin, and I can teach you how, but it won't be pleasant, and it won't be easy.  To teach you not to fear I must take you to the heart of fear."

They didn't like the sound of that.

Lor spoke up bravely.  "You can try, Mara, but I'm not afraid of anything."

"Except that beast," Aerin noted.

"I can handle it," Lor stated with her chin up.

Katek scoffed, "Sure you can."

Mara stopped their argument.  "Tomorrow we start your new training.  Please know that I wouldn't do this to you if I could help it in any way.  Be brave, and remember, in the end, you will be stronger for having come through the fire of the forge."

"I can tell you right now, I'm not looking forward to this," Dono noted.

Mara stood.  "Now, since I missed Gandarel coming to me, I will go to him."

Aerin looked worried.  "But, Mara, shouldn't you rest first?"

Mara did indeed look tired, but she just gave him a small smile.  "There is no time for rest, Aerin, events outpace us, and I have no time left for being old."

"I will escort you there," he offered.

Mara shook her head, "No, this I must do alone, but my thanks for your concern.  Rest, Aerin, tomorrow will be a worse day than today."  She leaned heavily on her cane and headed for the gate.

Mara was admitted into the seat, after some discussion, and seated in a hallway while she waited to speak with Gandarel.  After a long time had passed, there was finally a sound in the hallway, and Mara looked up from her seat.  Gandarel approached, with the priest Hork and chairman of the council, Niler Corbin, at his heels.

"Mara," Gandarel said in greeting.  "It is good to see you well.  I heard of your disappearance after the battle at the wall and was worried."

Behind him, Hork glared daggers at Mara.

"I am fine, though Tocor took a wound."

Gandarel looked down from Mara's strong gaze.  "You were right about the Togroths leaving, it is so strange."

Mara nodded her head slightly in acknowledgment of his words.  "May I have some time alone to speak with you Gandarel?"

Niler spoke before Gandarel could answer.  "Anything you have to say to Gandarel can be said in front of us.  There will be no secrets here between us."

Mara nodded and said, "As you wish.  Gandarel, there is more you need to know before you can achieve your heritage."

"He has all the teachers he needs to take the Seat of Stone," Niler stated.

Mara's eyes never left Gandarel's, "Your destiny lies in greater things than just the Seat, Gandarel.  You know in your heart I am correct.  You know of what I speak."

"How did we ever let this insane woman have time with the heir, so she could poison the boy's mind?" Hork demanded of Niler.

"I saved his life, though you seem to have conveniently forgotten that," Mara noted.

"Are you done with Gandarel?" Niler asked Mara in disgust.

Mara gave Niler, and his bushy eyebrows, a frank stare.  "Gandarel and I will never be 'done' with each other.  You are a minor word, a small footnote in his story, be careful, lest you are erased completely."

Niler's voice rose indignantly, "You DARE to threaten me?"

"Threaten?  If I wished you harm you would already be dead."

Niler nearly foamed at the mouth in his anger.  "I can have your head struck from your body for such insolence!"

Mara merely raised an eyebrow at him, seemingly unconcerned by his threats.

"All of you, calm down," Enolive said.  The thin councilman had come up from the adjoining hallway.  "This serves no purpose.  Gandarel, say goodbye to your friend, it is time for us to look over your troops."

"Mara, I... we'll talk later, all right?"

"Of course, Gandarel, be well, and remember what I have taught you.  The time comes when everything will change.  Events are approaching the time where all is confusion, and choices made will color the future paths."

Niler took Gandarel by the arm and led the unhappy boy away.  Enolive went with them.

Hork stared at Mara as she walked down the hallway leaning on her cane.

"Your time has passed woman.  It is a new age where humans will take ownership of this world, and the lesser races will pay homage.  Go back to your tea leaves and chicken bones; your little moment of fame is over."

Mara paused with her back to Hork for a moment and chuckled, but when she turned there was a look on her face that had not been seen for some time.  "Little man, you see so little of the world from the tiny walls of your mind.  I will give you something to think about in your petty little dreams.  I'll let you see clearly for a moment, and perhaps you will learn."

She turned to face him and lifted her cane to hold it above her with both hands.

Hork’s eyes grew until they nearly bugged from his eye sockets.

Mara smiled, returned her cane to the ground and walked away.

The following morning, Mara gathered her remaining students in the chamber they used as a classroom.

"Today you will learn about fear and how to handle it.  And each day that passes you will learn to handle deeper fear.  The first step in stopping fear lies in understanding that which causes it.  Fear is a strong emotional state of mind.  Some fears have been taught to you, and some are instinctual, like fearing height.  But regardless of the origin, once started inside your brain, fear feeds on itself and grows like a cancer.  Much of fear is based on the knowledge of the future, a future where you anticipate your own pain, loss, failure, embarrassment or death.  Any sensation that you dislike, but anticipate experiencing, can cause fear.  You can even experience fear because you believe some bad thing is about to happen to someone or something you care about.  Fear is not about what has happened, but about what you think will happen.

"Because fear is about something that has not yet happened, it is really about nothing."  She paused in her speech for a moment, then said: "Dono, stand up and come here."

Dono looked extremely worried as he started to his feet.

"Stop, you fear what I am about to do, why?  Have I threatened you in any way?  If I embarrass you will you be a worse person?  If I give you pain will you not get over it?  Would it not be better to ask what is intended rather than fear what you don't know?  Sit down, Dono."

He looked relieved and took his seat again.

"Aerin, stand up and come here."

He did as his teacher said and came to the front of the room.

"Are you afraid of me, Aerin?” she asked when he arrived.

"No, Mara, you will not hurt me, you are my friend."

Mara smiled.  "I will not hurt you, Aerin," she said and pulled out a thin dagger from her sleeve.

Aerin's eyes grew slightly, but he remained calm.

"Good, you have reined in your fear.  Who are you, Aerin?"

The strange question took Aerin's attention from the dagger.

"What?"

"Who is Aerin?  Until you can answer that question, until you know what you are, in all ways, fear will have a hold on you."

"I don't understand, Mara."

"If I cut off your hand, who will you be?"

"I... you're going to cut off my hand?" Aerin asked, his eyes going back to the dagger.

Mara's eyes held compassion for her young friend.  "What happened to trusting me?"

"Oh, I do, Mara."

"Answer my question then."

Aerin thought a moment and then answered. "I will still be myself."

"Excellent, and after I mutilate every part of your body, who will you be?"

"Aerin."

Mara nodded in agreement as she moved across the room.  "So if it isn't the state of your body that makes you who you are, what is it?"

"The state of your mind?"

Mara took a deep breath and let it out as if in thought.  "Is it, or is it your personality?  Your state of mind can change from moment to moment, but Aerin is a set of beliefs, habits, likes and dislikes. Aerin is the set of things that makes up his personality, do you agree?"

"Yes, that sounds right to me," Aerin said.

Mara moved back near him again, tapping the dagger into her other palm.  "But fear changes you; it eats down into your mind and causes permanent changes to who you are.  People fear pain and embarrassment, but what they should fear is fear itself."

She reversed the knife and handed it to Aerin.

He was puzzled but took the offered blade.

Mara placed her hand flat on the desk.

"Stab me in the hand," she ordered.

"NO!"

"Why not?  I am not afraid of the pain."

"I... I can't, Mara."

Mara looked him in the eye.  "Are you afraid you will hurt me?"

"Yes!"

"Why?  I have asked you to do it.  No one will blame you.  It won't hurt you, physically."

Aerin felt sweat on his palms.  "That's just it, Mara, it will hurt me to hurt you, in here," he said, touching his chest near his heart.

Mara removed her hand from the table.  "And the fact that you care about me enough to feel fear for me, when I do not, makes me love you, Aerin, but it is all right to care; there is nothing wrong with that.  Fearing because you care is wrong.  If I had to physically hurt you to help you, I would do so without fear, and I would feel your pain, but not fear it.  Pain is fleeting, pain is transient, and there are more important things in life than to worry about such a small thing as pain.  Pain is merely a warning to your brain that a part of us is being damaged.  It is just a signal, like words or sound; a way of keeping us informed.  It is not something to fear.  Emotional pain is much deeper, but fearing it will not make it less, only more."

She paused a moment as she reached out and took the dagger back, before pointing for Aerin to retake his seat, which he did with relief.

Mara looked at her students and said, "Death, do you fear it?"

After a moment, they all nodded.

"You were a little late admitting it, Katek, why?" Mara asked.

"I do not wish to die before I avenge Temmen's death, but other than that, I do not fear death."

Mara smiled for a brief moment.  "So why do the rest of you fear death?"

"It's painful to die," Lor noted.

Mara considered her statement.  "Is it?  What if I give you this vial," Mara took out a small bottle and put it on Lor's desk, "and tell you that drinking it will bring you a bliss you have never felt before in your entire life."

Lor looked at it curiously.

"Taste it and you will be in ecstasy, I tell you this and I do not lie to you, Lor."

Lor picked up the bottle and tried to see inside.

"It will also kill you," Mara noted.

Lor dropped the bottle and it hit the table and broke, she knocked her chair over getting away from the liquid splashed on her desk.

Mara watched but said nothing further for a moment.

"Why would you give me such a thing?" Lor demanded, still checking to see if any of it had splashed on her.

"It must be ingested," Mara explained, "and in a large quantity, so you are in no current danger, but you suddenly feared for your life, didn't you?"

"Yes!" Lor growled.  Her heart was still beating strongly from her quick fright.

"Why?"

"I thought that stuff could kill me."

"I did not lie about it being painless; it would be quite the opposite."

Lor was still upset: "That doesn't matter!"

"So you fear death?  Not the pain of death?"

"Yes, why don't YOU take it if you are so fearless?" Lor demanded.

"I do not fear death Lor; I just have more things to do before I go.  And that is the difference between most people in the world and those who do not fear death.  People should have a reason to live, and then do so, but they shouldn't have a fear of death, that is for fools."

"All this is fine, and as I’ve stated, I have a reason to live," Katek noted, "but it isn't going to drive away all the things we fear."

Mara regarded the young gladiator.  "No, but before you can learn with your heart you must understand with your head."

"I understand well enough," Katek decided.

"Do you?"

"I do not fear your dagger, whether you or I am the ones stabbed."

"But, Katek, it is not enough not to fear, you must withstand it from without and give back nothing."

"And how am I to do that?"

"Know thy enemy.  You must feel fear and overcome it, and then you must bath in it and let it drip from you like droplets of water. Until you can live and breathe it, you will drown in it and create even more for the Dreadmaster.  But that is enough for you all to think about today, tomorrow we will explore instinctual fear."

For the next week, they spent each morning learning about fear and how to control it.  Many of the lessons were hard, and Mara never gave an inch when challenged, she knew what was at stake. On the sixth day, the session ended on a new note.

Mara looked over her students for a few moments, as if taking their measure.  "Tonight I will take each of you to a place I know; it is an evil place, where the Dreadmaster's power is strong.  It is one of the Forbidden Zones. There you will feel fear, but you must not give in to that fear.  If you do, if you allow your fear to give the place power, it will manifest, and I do not know if you will survive."

There was nervous laughter, started by Lor.

"You think I overstate this, but I do not.  Let me tell you of this place.  There was a woman and her name was Jezebeth.  Her name was pretty and so, once, was she.  Jezebeth married a man named Jord, and he was a cooper.  Jord liked to drink, and he grew violent when he was drunk.  They had a young son, named Paoul, who was six years old.  Jord would go out drinking with his friends, and then he would come home.  Each time he came home drunk he would take a strap to his wife, and sometimes to his child.  His temper grew worse and the beatings became more frequent.  Each time he was late, Jezebeth would dread his return for she feared she would be beaten, and worse, feared for her son.  Her friends told her to run away, but she knew he would find her and kill her if she did.  But that wasn't the worst of it.  No, the worst part was the sound of his footsteps, coming up a tall wooden stairway that went up to their second story apartment.  Each stair would creak as he ascended to the next, and the sound of each step was a harbinger of pain.  She could have handled the pain of the blows on her own body, but the scars he left on her soul when he beat their little boy, was more than she could handle."

"So he finally killed them, is that it?" Katek demanded.

"Oh no, Katek, he didn't kill them.  The pain and fear went on and on, day after day, until... she went insane.  She took a knife and she went to her son's bed and held him."

Mara took out her knife again as a prop and then leaned over the table as if she were looking down on Paoul's bed herself.

"Then, when she heard the first dreaded creak of the stair, as her drunken husband came up, she smiled and then slit her son's throat.  With her son's blood on her hands, she turned and went to the door, where she stabbed Jord in the throat as he came through the door."

"Good!" Lor declared.

"But she didn't succeed.  Her blow only wounded him severely, and he fell down those stairs.  Jezebeth fell to her knees and stared at the blood on her hands. She wanted to kill herself, now that she had put her son where he could be safe from the pain, but then she heard it, the sound of those hated stairs creaking.  Jord wasn't dead, and he was coming for her again.  Terror shot through her, and she crawled to her dead son's bed and cowered until Jord arrived, bleeding from the neck, he crawled into the room, and beat her to death with his fists, before he eventually died from loss of blood."

"So?" Katek stated, "There are sad stories a plenty around this city."

"The power of fear can build up, and if this continues over a long time, the fear becomes very powerful indeed.  There is fear at Jezebeth's house, and hate, it is a marked place, where people do not go lest the emotion staining the ground should cause other crimes.  They have considered burning it to the ground, or having a church cleanse it, but until such time as one or the other happens, it is closed. They call them the Forbidden Zones. You've seen markers for such places, have you not?"

Lor looked sheepishly at Dono and Aerin.

"Perhaps you have even been inside a few, on a dare or something, but this one, this one is powerful; it carries a weight of fear close to the Dreadmaster's black heart.  It could kill someone from fear alone; I've seen it happen.  Tonight each of you will go into Jord's house, alone.  I will not be with you, your friends will not be with you, but Jord and Jezebeth will.  Tonight you must learn to conquer your fear, lest you give Jord the power to beat you like he beat Jezebeth, and if you fear too much, even kill you, as he killed his wife."

"You wouldn't put us in that much danger," Dono said into the dead silence of the room.

"I must," Mara stated, "for if you face the power of the Dreadmaster with fear, you will certainly die, and your fear may well kill others. Your failure could cost the freedom of this world."

"We're just kids," Dono stated, in a half whisper.

"Yes, and the fate of the world will rest partly in your hands.  So it is written in the Prophecies of Gold, and in the Dark Prophecies."  She paused, and her students were silent.  "Katek, you will have the honor of going first tonight.  Until that time I want you all to go to your individual rooms.  Yearl will come for you when it is your turn.  Think about what I have said, come to face your fear, and understand that it is nothing, only you give it power, and only you let it grow.  Even when the outside forces of other people's fear reaches for your heart, you can let it pass through, as if it was less than air. Fear has no power over those who will not feed it.  Remember, fear is nothing. You all have strong minds and I believe you are ready to face this test."

Katek put on a good front, but sitting alone in his room and thinking about what he would face when he was called nearly had him unnerved.  When Yearl knocked on his door he was startled out of deep reflection.

Mara was not present when Katek opened the door.  The willowman's eyes were dark brown and showed little of his thoughts.  Silently, Yearl led Katek through the dark streets to a rundown section on the eastern side of the city.  Here the street cobblestones were rough and mismatched.  Streets were narrower and followed thin canals of still muck.  They crossed a bridge and walked along a dank waterway.  Buildings in this area were old two-storied structures, made of black rotting wood.  At last, Yearl brought him to a thin wooden stairway, that climbed up to a thick door above.

"Climb the stairs and go inside.  Find the bed in the far room and sit down for at least five minutes.  If you can last that long you will have conquered your fear," Yearl explained.

Katek looked up the old, uneven stairs, in consternation.

"Do you think the stairs are good enough to..." Katek trailed off as he realized he was speaking to himself, the willowman was gone.  The young man looked behind him into the dark thin path and saw no sign of Yearl.

Katek took a deep breath and let it out, then took hold of the rickety stairway railing and started toward the top.

As his weight came down on the first stair it creaked loudly.

Katek felt, more than heard, movement in the room above him, and paused as he tried to see something through the cracks of the door above.  He noticed the yellow 'X' painted on the door.  It was a clear warning sign to anyone approaching that here was a place stained with evil, a Forbidden Zone.  It was against the law to enter a place thus marked without proper approval, but Katek took another breath and climbed the second step.

It too creaked, and he heard a muffled giggle come from somewhere nearby.  Again there was motion from above, that he felt as a slight swaying of the stairs.  He thought he caught a flash of movement through the cracks around the door above him.

Katek paused and considered the fear he was starting to feel; it had crept into his lungs and heart and made them labor.  There was a taste of salt and acid in his mouth and a cold sweat on his brow.  He cursed and grabbed the reins of his fear, telling himself to remember what Mara had told him; only he could give fear power over his body.

Steady again, Katek climbed the stairs, each one causing a creak and a reciprocal furtive movement from above.  He had no weapons, no armor, just himself and his thin clothes.  He wished he had at least brought a knife, but Yearl had told him no weapons would be needed.

As he reached the top of the stairs, the feeling of anxiety increased, and he was almost in a blind panic.  He stilled his heart by imagining the feeling as water flowing around and past him, as Mara had described.  It helped to visualize the emotion.

He opened the door.  Inside it was dark, only moonlight from the outside bled in across the rough wood floor.  Katek steeled his emotions and stepped into the room.  It was like plunging into cold water on a hot day.  Fear squeezed his heart, like a hand inside his chest.  He felt waves of terror, followed by savage thoughts of hatred for a man he did not know.

The door slammed shut on its own and startled Katek. The boy spun around in a crouch.  Below he heard the sound of footsteps on the old stairs, step by slow step.  The terror increased and he ran to the bedroom through the dark.  He stopped when he reached the dark closed door ahead of him.

What am I doing?  He thought, reaching for that calm center that he had achieved earlier, but it was hard.  His heart beat in loud thumping shudders in his chest, and behind him, he heard the footsteps nearing the top of the stairs.

His body shook with the effort of not running, and he heard a woman's voice behind him speaking in a soft, insane, whisper:  "‘Tis Jord, and he's come for you.  Kill him, kill him as he comes in, or he'll kill us all!  Save my boy!"

Katek looked around for a weapon and found a broken chair leg in the corner of the room. He picked it up in his hand like a club.

"I hate him, hate him!  Kill him before he gets you!” she urged him in her insane voice.

Katek didn't dare turn to see if Jezebeth was behind him, he was too scared.

Mara's words returned to his fear-clouded mind, and Katek paused in his advance toward the door.  He fought a battle within and won.  He finally managed to detach himself from his fear and look upon it.  He knew that he was creating the voice out of the fear in the room and giving it a reality.  With a conscious effort, Katek managed to stop and drop the chair leg.

He turned and faced the dark room and went to the door. It felt like his mind watched his body from outside.  The more he stayed detached, the easier it became.  Jezebeth's voice didn't speak and he didn't see her.  He reached the door and took hold of the handle, but here his resolve faltered; he didn't know what he would see on the other side.  His imagination raced, and the dead decaying bodies of the two adults and one child came to his mind.  Then he saw them standing, waiting just on the other side of the door for him to open it and let them out, waiting, hungrily.

Behind him, Jezebeth whispered.  "Come to join us, Katek?  I've been waiting for a friend to come and play with my Paoul.  Open the door and come in, I'll fix it so you can sleep with us, forever, just as I fixed Paoul."

From the direction of the front door, he heard the handle start to turn and then Jord's deep, drink-laden voice called out.  "Who you got in there, Jeze?  You dirty woman, I'll kill you both!"

Katek stopped opening the bedroom door and looked across the dark main room to the front door.  The handle really was moving; he could see it in the moonlight seeping through the joints from outside.

The frightened boy once again swallowed his rapidly beating heart and faced down the fear inside to a place where he could contain it.  He reached back for that state where he was almost an observer in his own body, and after a moment achieved it.  He didn't make the choice to open the door, nor did he wonder at it, he just did it.

The door opened to an empty room.

Behind him, Katek heard the front door opening, and he knew it was Jord come for his wife.

Footsteps approached across the room, and Katek fought to maintain his detached state of calm.  He didn't even jump when the voice spoke, though the tone did surprise him.

"You have done well," Mara said softly to his back.  "You have managed to open the bedroom door, and stay in control of yourself, even when you heard this door opening and my footsteps approaching.  I am pleased by your progress."

Katek swallowed, he wasn't feeling very cocky at the moment.  Fear had nearly gotten the best of him.  He had been holding onto a razor edge of control, but he had held.  Suddenly he knew it would be easier next time, and that thought alone made him stronger.

"Come on, you've disturbed the ghostly memories of Jezebeth enough for one night," Mara decided and led him from the house.

Behind them the house sat silent, waiting for a more malleable victim to feed upon.

Each of Mara's students faced their fears that night in the emotionally haunted rooms of Jezebeth and Jord.  Each student had a different experience, all of them terrifying, all of them in the end, beneficial in their learning.

It was hard on them, harder than most young men and women could handle, but Mara knew these kids were special, and they were already trained far beyond their years.  She knew they could survive this trial by fear; they had to because she had no time for any other method.  It was their first real exercise in controlling powerful fear; it was not their last.

Aerin woke with a start, and his body was covered with sweat.  It had been three weeks since they had started their training in controlling fear.  This was the fourth night he had experienced nightmares, and this one was bad.  He had been back in Jezebeth's house, and the decayed face of Jezebeth, that he had seen leaning down into his during his trial, had returned in his dreams, but this time it turned into Mara's face.  She had smiled and said, "I've kept something from you, Aerin."  Then she reached and tore away the flesh of her face while laughing at him.

He lay in the dark and applied Mara's teachings to calm his nerves.  Soon he was free of the leftover feelings of fear.  He analyzed the dream, and noted that he had not been in Jezebeth's house this time; it had actually taken place inside of the abandoned building on Netter Street, where he had seen Mara talking to the crazy man.

Aerin got out of bed and dressed.  It was three hours past midnight, but he didn't want to go back to sleep.  He decided to face whatever fear it was that haunted his dreams, right now.

Soon he was out on the dark and misty streets of the city.  He saw one darkly cloaked man, furtively staying to the shadows.  Aerin kept an eye on him, as he went past, but the man only moved away while keeping his face concealed by his dark hood.

Soon, Aerin reached Netter Street and he sought the building where the crazy man was usually found.  Aerin saw the place in the stones where they had left the sword and wondered about Mara and her relationship with this strange man.  He looked at the dark doorway and started forward. Aerin used his new skills in controlling his fear to keep a calm state.  Detached from his instinctual fear of entering this dark and unknown place, Aerin stepped into the gloom.

He let his eyes adjust without moving.  At first, he thought he was alone, but then he saw a dark shape in one corner and two eyes watching him.

Aerin waited a moment longer until his eyes adjusted as best they could to the dim light.  He moved nearer the man and knelt down to both knees when he drew near.

"I am Aerin," he stated, wondering if the man would answer.

The man moved forward, and Aerin heard metal scraping against stone.  He caught the glint of polished metal, and could just make out the shape of a sword in the man's hand.  The strange man moved forward in a crouch by scooting on two feet and one hand, his other hand was occupied in holding the sword by the blade.  Aerin continued to apply his teaching and managed to hold his position on his knees, as the man drew near with the naked blade in his hand.  It was the sword Mara had left out in front, back during the siege.

Aerin was wary, but before he could move, the strange man laid the sword on the floor and slid it over toward Aerin.

The sword stopped after sliding on the rough stone and came to rest between them.  Aerin didn't move forward, so the crazy man backed up and then lay down on the stone floor on his side and rolled on his back.  It was an obvious gesture to the boy, from that position it would take a lot of effort to get up and reach Aerin quickly.

Aerin crawled forward, slowly approaching the sword.  He reached it and took it from the stones, before moving back to his original position.  He knelt again and then carefully set the sword down on the floor next to him.  "Thank you, but I did not come to retrieve the weapon we loaned you," he said to the strange man.

The man got off his back and sat on his heels, and his head rotated slightly, in a questioning look that somehow reminded Aerin of a dog that was puzzled by something.  There was no look of comprehension on the man's face.

"Abuok... bar pul... Tog?" Aerin tried, speaking haltingly in the Togroth's raw tongue.

This time the man's face lifted into a half snarl, but he did not seem to understand.

"I wonder what language you speak, my friend," Aerin muttered, "or if you speak at all."

The man crawled around in a tight circle and rummaged around in a pile of junk in the corner behind him.  He came out with one of the food packets that Aerin had seen Mara with at various times.

"No, I don't have any food for you," Aerin noted, "but next time I will bring you some."

The man presented the food pack again and Aerin shook his head in a 'no' gesture, holding up his hands to show them empty.

There was a look of disappointment from the man, and he put the food packet back in the corner.

From behind Aerin, a bony form suddenly launched itself from the shadows toward the naked sword lying on the floor.  The surprise movement knocked Aerin aside before he knew what was happening.  Aerin saw the crazy man leap in a dive over him and then the sounds of scuffling and a yelp of pain from the dark.

Aerin scrambled back to his feet, just in time to see a dark form half crawling and running out the doorway.  The crazy man came out of the dark, dragging the sword by its tip behind him.  He left it next to Aerin again and returned to his position in the corner.

"Thank you," Aerin said with true feeling; while concentrating on his attempts to communicate he had been taken completely by surprise.

Aerin realized that his thanks meant nothing to the man, and he tried to think of some way to thank him.  He looked at him and saw that he was naked except for filth, and though the night chill was not so biting here inside the abandoned building, it was by no means comfortable.  Aerin removed his sweater and placed it before them on the floor.  Then he pointed behind him to where the attacker had fled.

Again he got the puzzled look from the man.

Aerin sighed but hoped he would at least appreciate the warmth, even if he didn't understand the thank you.

Aerin picked up the sword and backed away slowly, and the man watched him go.

It was a cold walk back to his rooms, but Aerin didn't notice since he was busy contemplating about how good his life was compared to the poor man in the building.

He was almost home before it occurred to him that the man might have been offering food, instead of inquiring if Aerin had brought any.

Two months after the siege ended, Aerin was back in Jezebeth's house alone.  Their teaching, by Mara, had gone on non-stop, and finally, his nightmares had quit bothering him as he learned to control his fears, even during sleep.  Mara thought he was ready and asked him to return to Jezebeth's house.  Of all of them, Aerin had gone through the worst experience there, and Mara had come to his rescue to find him huddled and shaking in a corner.

Now Aerin stood in the main room and closed his eyes.  He could feel the fear about him, permeating everything, but it was all outside him now, and he gave nothing back.  After a time, he opened his eyes and went to the child's room.  Here is where they had died and here the stain was the strongest.

Aerin entered and there was no vision or sound from the emotional ghosts, the fear was still there, but he was not a part of it.

Aerin was about to turn and leave, safe in the knowledge that he had conquered his fear when a new voice spoke.  It was not Jezebeth, or her dead husband, or child, but Aerin had heard this voice in the past.

"You can hide inside yourself from these weak echoes, but you cannot hide from me, Aerin," the whispery voice said.

Aerin's heart skipped a beat when the voice spoke, but his training was strong enough for him to regain control.  He did not answer, as he did not wish to recognize the presence and therefore give it power by his belief.

"Cat got your tongue?  Or do you fear to speak?  Many have thought they could stand up to me, and all have learned they are too weak.  Even your Nexlord went to a knee before me, and so will you.  But you are strong, young Aerin, and I have need of strength.  I will teach you what you are missing, I will teach you not to avoid the power given to those with strong emotion and purpose, but to use it.  Your teacher has not told you everything; she has kept the most important things from you.  This is her mistake, but I will be honest Aerin, I will never lie to you."

"You are the master of lies," Aerin answered.

"No, I am the champion of truth, for I rip the mantle of lies from mortals by showing them the truth of our world.  I will give you a piece of truth that you will not believe, but eventually you will learn that I spoke the truth.  Remember this then, young Aerin, for you will know that I told you the truth when your teacher lied, even to herself."

"I don't want to hear this, I don't believe you," Aerin demanded angrily.

"That is the way of most people when it comes to truth, but it cannot be stopped.   The truth you should know is that your teacher does my work."

"That is a lie!  Mara doesn't work for you!"

"I have been the Dreadmaster and I will live again.  I have no need to lie; that is for lesser beings unsure of their destiny."

"I see your game, you attempt to split us, and cause me to fear so you can feed.  I do not fear you!"

"And so you lie to yourself, just like your teacher," the voice whispered, it was fainter, as though dissipating.

Then Aerin could not feel the presence around him any longer.

The troubled young man stood in the empty room for awhile, thinking about what had been said.

When Aerin went down the old wooden steps, Mara met him at the bottom.  "So, did you have any trouble with the denizens of the house?"

Aerin answered her truthfully, as far as her question went.  "No, the stains of their fear and hatred could not reach me."

"Good, I am pleased with your progress, Aerin.  You have learned much in these past weeks."

Aerin nodded, but his thoughts were different, as doubt crept into his mind, Yes, Mara, yet have you taught me all I need to know?

The Dreadmaster’s words haunted Aerin's mind in days that followed.  He watched Mara closely, not so much in suspicion, but so that he could exonerate her, and exercise the evil one's words from his thoughts.  But with each stolen glance and every overheard conversation, Aerin was wracked with guilt.

Aerin saw Mara and Tocor approaching slowly along the walkway past the practice area of the courtyard.  They were in deep conversation and half-oblivious to the students working out.  Aerin stopped his solo warm-ups and sat down on one of the benches, where Mara and Tocor would soon pass.  They wouldn't be able to see him, as he would be on the far side of the thick column, supporting the balcony, but he would be able to hear them.  There was nothing suspicious about him taking a rest on this bench, but he felt the familiar lump of guilt in his stomach.

"…they are, but I'm worried about Gandarel.  He has missed the fear training, and he will need it even more than his friends.  We must figure out a way to tear him away from the clutches of those power hungry councilmen!" Mara said as she came into Aerin's hearing range.

He couldn't make out Tocor's low rumbled reply, and then Mara spoke again.

"I know, and I'm worried about that vision as well.  It made no sense before, and it makes no sense to me now after much study.  If he fails... not only will he die, but all..."

Aerin couldn't hear them anymore since they had walked too far away. After a minute, Aerin got up and continued his weapon practice. He even took a lump from Katek when he let his mind wander too far from the business at hand.

"Here, let me show you the proper block to that attack," Katek said, after giving Aerin his bruise.

Aerin was rubbing his shin with his hand in anger, mostly with himself.  "You mean this move?"  Aerin replied and performed it with perfect accuracy.

"Yes," Katek said in surprise.  "Why did you not use it, if you know it so well?"

"I was distracted," noted Aerin, "I've got something important on my mind.  Mara..." he paused, wondering if he should even speak to his friend about his problem.

Katek pointed with his left hand, "Look, Mara is..."

When Aerin turned to look, Katek hooked his feet and dumped him to the ground.

"That was a little lesson in attention when sparring or fighting you should concentrate on one thing, your opponent!"

Aerin looked up in anger for a moment and then cracked a smile.  "Point taken, Katek."

Katek offered his hand to his friend and pulled him to his feet.

Aerin tried to tangle Katek's feet with his quarterstaff as he came up, but Katek was too cautious for that.

"Ha!” he yelled, "Now did you really think you could turn the tables on me so easily?"

"No, but it was worth a try," Aerin said with a grin.

Dono and Lor were at the front gate, and they had it cracked open so they could look out into the street.

"What's going on over there?" Katek asked.

Aerin didn't take his eyes off his opponent; "I'm not going to fall for it twice, Kat."

Katek stepped back and bowed, officially ending the bout.  "I'm serious."

Aerin looked just in time to see Lor and Dono run in their direction.

"To the roof!" Lor called and leaped for a hold to swarm up the side of the Villa.

Katek and Aerin looked at each other a moment, and then both headed after their friends.  They joined Lor and Dono on the roofs and moved to look down on the street in front.

Troops were marching past.  These were not like any soldiers that Aerin had ever seen before.  Their uniforms were perfectly matched in deep blue with gold buttons.  Each carried the exact same sword and pack, and they marched in perfect unison.

"What's going on?" Mara called up to them from the courtyard.

"Soldiers, all dressed in blue," Dono called back down.

Of the students on the roof, only Aerin watched to see Mara's reaction, the others had their attention on the passing soldiers.

"Bluecoats," Mara said to Tocor, "it is time."

Chapter Thirteen

"The ground was blue with torn uniforms and red with blood.  The heir to hope lay dead amongst them.  Where was help in his time of need?  Where were his friends?"

-  From the Dark Prophecies

We're leaving," Mara said in two simple words.

It rocked her student's universe.  "But..." Lor exclaimed, "we're coming back, right?"

Mara shook her head.  "Not the way you are thinking, Lor.  The time of waiting is over and from here the events become tangled and frenzied.  We are at a crossroads and not the last.  We must leave this city and go to Gandarel's aid or he will be lost."

"But Gandarel is here, how can we leave to go to his aid?" Lor asked.

"Gandarel will be leaving soon, trust me," Mara explained.

It was afternoon and the students sat on the ground around the bench where Mara liked to teach in the training yard area.

Katek was taking the news completely differently.  He had a slight smile of anticipation when he asked, "To where do we travel, Mara?"

"For the moment, west, at least until we reach the Eigen pass.  From there we will likely go... well, we can talk about that when we get closer and know more."

"Do we have to go?" Dono asked.

Mara looked sympathetic, but her eyes were watching and weighing.  "Dono, none of you MUST go, but any of you who stay will not be part of this fellowship again.  I have told you, this is a crossroads, and decisions you make now will change your life.  Great events have been building for more years than you can imagine.  They are building towards a nexus where all is confused and many things are possible.  From this great moment in time, the future paths will narrow to color the future of our lives and this world."

"How do you know all this?" Lor demanded.

"It is written in the prophecies of Gold and in the Dark Prophecies."

Lor was looking stubborn.  "Those are just someone's guesses.  They can't predict the future."

"You are correct," Mara said, surprising Lor. "Prophecies are never perfect predictions of the future because there is no set path.  Time is not preordained, nor are the choices you will make set in stone."

"Then what good are these prophecies and why do you follow them?" Lor asked.

Mara thought for a moment, she was not considering the answer to the question, but whether her students were ready to have this knowledge.  "Prophecies are the best looks down the myriad of possible paths.  They are the most likely events.  But even that is a serious oversimplification.  Think of them this way, at minimum, they are major branches in a host of possibilities, but once they are known and people get a look at these paths they can give them even greater power. If enough people believe in one possible future then it is even more likely to become the true path.  I have taught you how great pain, anger, hate, and fear can stain a place, and you have all experienced this recently and in other small ways your whole life, agreed?"

"Yes," Aerin said for them all.

"Well, great belief is no different.  If enough people believe in something they imbue it with the combined emotion of their belief."

Lor rubbed at her eyes vigorously.  "Mara, your answers often give me a headache.  Sometimes I wish I never asked.  All this doesn't matter, what does matter is that I don't want to leave my home."

Mara put a comforting hand on Lor's shoulder.  "Then that would be your choice.  I do not force any of you to take a destiny that is fraught with danger, pain, and suffering.  I can tell you this, the major paths all point to severe challenge, pain and suffering for the bondsmen of the new NexLord.  But be warned, the prophecies also show the likelihood of our success diminishes with the loss of any Bondsman.  This means if you stay, taking the comfortable path, you might be happy in the short run, but in the end, your choice could be your doom."

"That isn't fair; you said you wouldn't make us go!  Now you're making it sound like we're going to die if we make the wrong choice," Lor growled.

"I'm not, I'm just telling you what the prophecies say, your choices are your own.  Remember, the prophecies could be wrong, but it just isn't likely that they are far wrong."

Aerin's mind was on another thing.  "Mara, you have mentioned two prophecies, how can we be on both?"

"In essence, we are not.  For a time, events were following the Prophecies of Gold, and I have tried to keep them on that track by 'helping' events to come true.  But we have diverged from the more desirable branch and have entered an area where all likely paths are foretold in the Dark Prophecies.  These writings were portends of doom, and as we sidestep one pitfall it but puts us in the path of the next.  Instead of trying to keep on a known path, as I've done for many years, now I fight to avoid ruin by staying in the unknown.  Each victory is short lived.  I don't like being on the defensive, but that is the situation."

"Is there any way to get back onto the path that the Prophecies of Gold predict?" Aerin asked.

At his question Mara looked on her student with pride; instead of fearing the dark choices ahead, and asking about the next portend of doom, he was looking for intelligent solutions.  "Yes, Aerin, there is always that chance, but with each day, with each step that we go away from that future, it gets harder.  In truth, I don't see a way, though I know more of these prophecies than anyone else alive."

"Well, I'm sorry, but I don't believe in any of this tripe," Lor noted, angry enough to speak back to Mara.  "I'm not leaving my home on the possibility that Gandarel will leave, and we need to save him, from something, only to have it be futile since we don't know that what we change the future to will be any better!  And I don't think my friends should go either."

Mara smiled and shook her head sadly, but her grim humor was for her own failing.  "I seem to have done something wrong in my teachings.  First Gandarel goes against my counsel, and tears us from the best path, and now Lor is afraid to leave as well."

"I'm not afraid!" Lor answered.

"Oh, but you are, Lor.  You're not afraid of the things you would face out in the world, you're not even afraid of those unknown dangers in the Dark Prophecies, though if you read them you might reconsider.  No, you are afraid of losing your home, of losing the last connection to your childhood.  You fear growing up."

"I do not!" Lor stated and stood up.  She glanced at her friends for a moment as if looking for support, but when she did not see what she was seeking she turned and went to the place where they climbed to the roofs.  In moments, she was gone.

Mara sighed, and then said, "After her, Aerin, I don't know what you can say, but she must come with us."

"But you said each of us gets to choose."

Mara nodded.  "Yes, but I didn't say those choices wouldn't have consequences.  The rest of you stay, we need to start packing.  We leave with the dawn."

"So soon?" Dono asked with a slight look of panic in his eyes.

Mara patted his red hair fondly.  "Yes, Dono, though I will miss this frozen moment; it has been a very special time in my life.  I dreaded it for years before it happened, and now I find that when it has passed I will miss it more than I would ever have guessed.  The reason I told Lor we could not return is simple, you can never go back.  A place in time is better left untouched by the future so that your memory can keep it alive.  I wish I could go on being your teacher forever, but events for which I've prepared a lifetime approach, and I must move back into the mainstream where the water flows swift and the jagged rocks are dangerous."

"The last few years have been the craziest of my life!" Aerin noted, getting to his feet to follow Lor.

"I believe you will look back on them someday and pray for the peace you have known.  But do not despair, my young friends, for the future always holds its own promise, and though we lose something we leave behind, we never know what tomorrow will really bring.  That is the adventure!"

Mara finished her speech and grew silent for a moment before looking at Aerin, who had paused.  "Ignore the rambling of an old woman, soon you will follow the stirring of youth and life will become much more interesting, if less comfortable.  On with you, Aerin, bring her back.  As for the rest of us, it's time to get to work packing the wagon."

The spire on Celimah's watchtower is the highest peak in Strakhelm, and that is where Aerin caught up to Lor.  The climb up the side and over the angled eve, that overhung the balcony below, would have frozen Aerin with fear a year ago, and even now challenged his climbing skills, and mental control, to their limits.  Then he had to scale the steep side to reach the metal rod that poked out of the very top.  Lor stood next to that rod, holding on with one hand as she looked over her city.

Aerin arrived and took hold of the rod.  He didn't say anything but looked out over the vast array of shapes and colors that was Strakhelm.

They stood side by side silently sharing every detail of the only home Lor had ever known.  She spoke first, "There is a storm coming."

Aerin raised his gaze to the skies and looked to the west, where the red sun was setting behind the Dragonback.  There was no sign of gathering clouds.

"It will come from the east, but not in the way you are looking for it.  The storm will tear our lives away from us.  You know it too; I've seen the same haunted expression reflected in your face."

Aerin couldn't meet her eyes.

"What have you seen, Aerin, why do you look away?"

Aerin forced his eyes back to meet his friend's, and tears welled up inside.  "I've had a vision, it was not a dream.  I told you something about it that night when the Togroths attacked the east wall, but I didn't tell you everything."

Lor frowned slightly while trying to understand.

Aerin looked down and paused a moment, gathering his resolve, before looking up into her eyes.  "I saw the aftermath of a great battle and you..."

"I was dead," Lor finished for him.

"Yes," Aerin answered.  After a moment, he continued, "Mara sent me to make you come with us. She said you are important and that you have to come with us, but I've come to warn you that you will die if you come on this journey; I saw it in that vision."

Lor looked at the anguish on Aerin's face and her face broke into a warm and loving smile for her friend.  She took him by the shoulder and looked into his teary eyes.  "Aerin, I will not come along for Gandarel.  He is my friend, but this is my home, yet I have to ask you, are you going with Mara when she leaves?"

Aerin's voice was barely loud enough for Lor to hear over the wind.  "Yes, she is my teacher, my guardian and she saved my life when my parents were killed.  I know you don't believe her claims of prophecy, and I can't prove them right or wrong, but she believes what she is doing is the right thing, and so I will go with her when she asks.  I have to, she's my friend."

Lor looked at Aerin for a moment.  "I don't know if I believe in those prophecies or not, Aerin, nor do I think you can see the future, but none of it matters, I am coming with you."

"But..."

"I know, you think I'm going to die in some great battle, but I'm not that easy to kill.  Know this, I’m not going for Gandarel and I'm not going for Mara, I'm going for you, Aerin.  You tried to help my mother, and you didn't do it to get something from me; you didn't even want me to know.  I can never repay the kindness you showed, and because of it, I will always love you as my brother.  The others are friends, and I love them dearly, but you cared for my mother and became my brother. You are my only family now.  I can't let you face this storm without my protection."

Aerin smiled mischievously, "I seem to remember being the one coming to YOUR rescue in the basement of that temple."

"And I owe you for that as well, you saved my life.  Regardless of what you saw in that vision, I can't let you go out alone to get killed doing something stupidly heroic."

Aerin reminded himself that Mara said the future was never set, they could beat this vision, somehow.

"But," and Lor's voice grew serious again, "We're losing something here, today.  I'm going to miss leading you across the rooftops of the High Road."

The two of them watched the city below for a few minutes, remembering times together.

Lor spoke again without looking at Aerin.  "I will face the coming storm with you, Aerin, because you are MY friend and you are my brother."

When they returned to Mara's Villa there was no talk of what had happened, Lor pitched in, and it was accepted that she was going.  When the cold mists of morning lay across the wet cobblestones, Mara's covered wagon trundled out of the gate onto the streets.  It was Dono who wiped the tears from his face as their lives changed and they left their home, but Lor had made her peace with the city the day before.  She knew her place was with Aerin, wherever he went, she would go.

But their troop was missing one person and they felt incomplete.  Gandarel was not with them.  Mara made no mention of the boy who meant so much to the future.

Gandarel was shaking with anger and he could hardly contain himself.  Councilman Enolive stood with his young charge and helped select clothing for him to take on his journey.

"How DARE they demand I leave here today," Gandarel exclaimed for the hundredth time.  Enolive did not answer the rhetorical question.

Gandarel wanted answers, even if he had already heard them before.

"Tell me, Enolive, what gives them the right to order the heir to the Seat of Stone?"

Enolive sighed, "Milord, the Captain is under the direct orders of the Regent.  The Regent is the current ruler of the country, until such time as the King is finally declared dead.  Being the Regent he outranks the Warlord and certainly outranks the heir to the Warlord's seat.  Now, the Captain certainly doesn't outrank you, since you are the heir to the Seat, but since he is here under the orders of the Regent it could be an act of treason to disobey his orders, no matter how perfunctory, insulting or rude they seem."

"He is a pompous man, this Captain.  He acts as though we are barbarians, hardly fit for his nose to smell.  When I told him we were recovering from a siege, and that travel could be dangerous he practically called me a liar and a coward!  ‘Border skirmish with some rabble,’ he called it!  Like his meager troops could mop up the entire Togroth horde if he were to run into them.  I think his men are unblooded peacocks and would fall to the first squad of Togroths that wanted a meal!"

Enolive shrugged.  "I doubt they are that bad, for all their finery.  However, regardless, the Regent has summoned you to go before his court to be judged for the post, as is required by the law of the land.  You cannot refuse, and quibbling about time will just put you in a worse position when you come before the Regent."

"But he won't let me bring my Guardsman!"

"Actually, he agreed to let you bring along a contingent of your personal guard," Enolive reminded him.

"Just twelve men; imagine if we run into a band of Togroths from that hoard.  We don't know if they all went into the wastelands after they left the city, my scouts reported various bands breaking off into the countryside."

"I'm sure you are worried about nothing.  The Bluecoats found no resistance on their march here from the Eigen Pass.  Any Togroth bands would most likely be in the opposite direction, towards the wastelands."

"We can't be sure, and my father said to always expect the unexpected when it came to planning a battle against the Togs."

"Everything will be all right , Milord.  You will be in the center of the Bluecoat army and you will have Niler Corbin and your priest, Hork, along to give you advice and continue your teachings."

"What about you, Enolive?" Gandarel asked.

"I had thought to stay here unless you feel you need me?"

"Please come along, I don’t want to be the taffy between Hork and Niler."

Enolive chuckled.  "That’s an interesting analogy, but I see your point.  All right, I'll clear it with Niler if you will make the request formally."

"I'll do it right now!  You better go pack your things."

"Indeed, this will be an interesting journey," Enolive foretold.

Chapter Fourteen

"And with surprise on their side, I saw them come like locus, descending to slaughter the King’s army to a man.  The trap was sprung between east and west, near the pass that bears the name of its discoverer, Eigen."

-  From the Dark Prophecies

They were two leagues outside of town when Yearl and Tocor showed up on horseback.  They had two extra mounts with them.  They tied the two extra horses to the back of the wagon and then rode alongside.

Mara called her four students to the front of the wagon, as they moved up the dirt road going west.  "Well, it is time we got your lessons started again."

"Lessons... now?" Dono asked.

Mara raised a gray eyebrow in his direction.  "Yes, did you think you had learned everything there is to know?"

"Well no, but weapons practice would be kind of hard in the back of a moving wagon."

"Actually, you might have to fight from a moving platform someday, but that is not what you are going to learn today," Mara explained.

Aerin nearly missed the next thing Mara said, as he relived the horrible chase in his parent's wagon.  Traveling outside the city, after all this time, had brought back old memories and Mara's words brought back that horrible day.  With a conscious effort, he brought his attention back to Mara.

"Yearl is going to teach you to ride."

"Horses?" Lor said as if describing some bizarre creature best left in a steel cage.

Yearl smiled from his mount next to the wagon.  "They won't eat you if you show them who is boss."

Lor looked at the large animal dubiously.

The rest of the day's travel went quickly, as the students took turns acquiring both riding knowledge and sore muscles while they practiced riding on the spare mounts.

As busy as they were, wrestling with their horsemanship, none of the kids noticed the dust cloud on the road behind them, as they crested a rise in the sparsely tree covered grass hills of the countryside, but Mara did.

They made their first camp in a small clearing in a glade of trees.  Yearl was not evident around the camp, once Mara had cooked and everyone had eaten.

It wasn't odd for Yearl to disappear, so no one mentioned it, but as they arranged sleeping mats on the ground Katek looked around and asked a question.  "Are we going to set a watch?  Or do you think we are safe being within a day's ride of Strakhelm?"

Tocor chose to answer his question.  "No lands are safe east of the Dragonback, but Yearl is out scouting the area, and when he returns I will watch during the night and rest some during the day tomorrow.  I prefer the night anyway."

"Tell us about the Quarians, Tocor," Aerin requested, and then sat down near the subdued campfire while pulling his blanket around his shoulders.  The other students also sat down and looked Tocor’s way expectantly.

Tocor's golden eyes considered them for a moment, and he filled his large mug with tea from the kettle that sat on a flat stone near the edge of the flames.  "My country is to the south of the wastelands, in the hot sands of the great desert.  There we have lived for as long as history recalls."

"How hot is it?" Dono asked.

"If you are going to interrupt me, perhaps I will let you tell this," Tocor noted.

Dono looked sheepish.  "Sorry."

"It is hotter than you have ever experienced in the Borderlands, but not so hot that you would die of the heat.  On a hot day, at noon, you could cook eggs on a rock exposed to the sunlight.  For that reason, and others, my people are nocturnal.  Our eyes are better adapted to seeing at night than humans.  We can eat plants, and do, but our primary diet is meat.  This comes from the lack of croplands in the desert.  There are many reptiles and large insects living there, some quite large and fierce.  The deeper you go into the Great desert the larger the creatures you meet.  It is a wild and deadly place where creature eats creature in a survival game, and we are the best survivors.

"Our customs would seem harsh to humans as our females are even fiercer than our males."

"How can a woman be tougher than a man?" Katek asked dubiously.

Tocor appraised him with his golden eyes for a moment and then answered.  "We are a matriarchal society."

"What does that mean?" Katek inquired.

"It means that the women rule," Aerin informed him.

"That's ridiculous!" Katek stated.

"Oh... and why do you say that, Katek?" Mara asked in a dangerous voice.

Katek didn't pick up the tone.  "Because men are the strongest, and women need to be protected so they can bring the young to term and nurture them as they grow.  It is up to men to protect them, and therefore rule them."

"Human men do typically have a stronger build than women, and in humans it is true the woman must be protected during the long pregnancy, however, why does that preclude them from ruling?"  Mara inquired.

"It just does," Katek stated as if the words alone were proof that it was true.

Mara sighed, "Katek, you will have a rude awakening one day, mark my words.  However, I do understand where your prejudice comes from."

"I'm not prejudice," he defended.

Mara just chuckled.

Tocor spoke again.  "Katek, there is a difference between Quarian women and Human women, our young are not carried inside the womb."

"What?" Katek and Lor both said.

"An egg is hatched one month after inception and the baby grows within, kept warm by the hot sands of our home.  During that period, the men protect the nest area, and I wouldn't suggest tangling with one of them if you value your hide."

"But how..." Aerin said, trying to picture an egg large enough to hold a baby coming out of a human-shaped body.

"Our women are larger than human women.  They stand over nine feet tall on the average," Tocor explained.

Tocor was large compared to an average human, but the students looked at him trying to imagine a woman that dwarfed Tocor.  It was almost incomprehensible.

"How big are your houses?" Dono asked, trying to picture doors large enough to cope with the women's height.

"We do not live in houses, but tunnel and build with stone into great outcroppings of rocks in the desert dunes.  Natural caves are expanded, walls added and canyons sealed off and covered.  When necessary we bore into the very stone to make our dwellings."

"I'd love to see that someday," Aerin noted, picturing vast castles as part of the living stone.

Tocor considered him for a moment.  "If you ever find yourself in the Great desert, make sure you take a Quarian as a guide, it is not a place where the uninitiated can survive.  I miss my people, but I can't say I miss the desert, it is a hard place."

"That is enough for now, Tocor," Mara stated.  "These curious youngsters need to get their beauty rest.  Tomorrow will be an interesting day."

There were moans from the listeners, but they started moving to their bedrolls.  Only Lor stayed at the fire and stared into the flames.

Mara squatted down by her and looked into the flames.  "What do you see Lor?"

"It's not what I see now that worries me.  Will the future burn me worse than these flames could now?"

"I don't know for sure, Lor, but trust in your friends, only they can bring you through the fire."

Lor looked at Aerin, where he was laying down on his bedroll.

"He saw something, Mara."

"Aerin... what do you mean?"

"He saw a vision where I was killed; I don’t want to leave him alone."

Mara didn't answer; her eyes were locked on Aerin.  Many thoughts were dancing behind her eyes as she gazed at the young man.

"What are you thinking?" Lor asked.

Mara broke her thoughts away from Aerin and stood up, "I'm thinking that he has an overactive imagination and that you need to quit worrying so much and get to bed."

"Yes, Mara," Lor said and then got up and headed for her bedroll.

But Mara did not hear her reply; the old teacher’s mind was on Aerin and his vision.

They were up before the dawn, much to Lor's disgust.

"What, in Gedin's name, is wrong with you people?  The sun isn't even awake yet!"  Lor grumbled, sitting up on her bedroll with her blanket wrapped around her and her short hair in disarray.  Around the camp, everyone else was busy cleaning, rolling and packing their gear into the wagon.

"Get a move on, slug-a-bed," exclaimed Katek, cheerful to be traveling again.

Lor growled something unintelligible and primordial.

"Careful," Dono noted, "I think it bites."

Lor stood up and dragged her blanket into the back of the wagon, where she proceeded to curl up and do her best to ignore the morning.

Three hours later the sun had crested over the high jagged teeth of the Dragonback Mountains, far ahead to the west.  Lor's face poked out of her blanket and found Tocor stretched out next to her resting.  When she stuck her head out of the front, to see where they were headed, she found Dono and Katek walking beside the wagon, while Aerin and Yearl rode horses in front of them. Yearl was busy giving him occasional advice.

"It lives!" Katek noted, seeing Lor's disheveled head poking out of the canvas covering.

"Barely," Lor noted, "I think this wagon has a curse on it."

"Curse?" Dono inquired.

"It finds every rut in the road, it must be cursed," Lor muttered.  She climbed over the front bench and plunked herself down next to Mara, who was steering the team.

"Where are we headed, Mara, and how soon will we get to civilization?"

Mara appraised the young city girl next to her and wordlessly handed her a comb.  "As I told you, we're headed for the Eigen pass."

"Is that our destination, or is it just a place on the way?"

Mara pursed her lips, it was obvious she didn't want to discuss this, but Lor was feeling feisty.

Mara finally answered, "It is not our destination, merely the direction in which we travel."

"So, what is our destination?"

"Don't you already know?" Mara asked in return.

Lor rubbed at her sleep encrusted eyes.  "I suppose you are going to tell me that I should have figured it out from things you have said, and maybe you are right, but the truth is, I'm just too tired to figure it out, so please tell me."

"We're headed for the Chamber of the Nexus where Gandarel will become the new NexLord."

Mara delivered the statement as if it carried the weight of the universe behind it, but Lor's response didn't sound too impressed.  "Shouldn't we have Gandarel along for that?"

Mara smiled.  "He's coming."

Lor looked around as if he would pop out of the wagon somewhere.  "What did you do, turn him into a reptile?"

"No, I haven't altered him into some creature and placed him in a box in the wagon, he is traveling with the Bluecoats behind us on the road."

Lor leaned out and looked back down their trail.

"I don't see any sign of them."

Mara smiled, "That's because you don't know how to look.  I'll teach you that later today.  We had to leave early..."

"You're telling me," Lor muttered.

"…because I want to stay ahead of the Bluecoats," Mara explained.

Lor looked out over the rolling hills around them.  This was grazing land, it was sparsely covered with rocks and trees but the majority of it was covered with long brown grass.  To their left the hills were rounded and she couldn't see beyond the next hill, but to her right there was a large plain with a mesa rising up five leagues distant.  Jagged rocks showed around the top of the steep sides just before the level area above.  To Lor it looked like an ancient giant's jawbone, laying on the ground, the teeth pointed up to the sky.

Lor caught a glint of metal reflecting sunlight from the edge of the mesa.

"There is something on top of that hill, over there," Lor pointed out the place to Mara.

The older woman squinted and held her hand at her brow to shade her eyes.

"Yearl!” she called to the Willowman, who was busy teaching Aerin horsemanship.

Aerin and the lavender-skinned man arrived, cantering their horses back to Mara's position.

"Lor caught some movement from the top of that mesa.  It would be a good spy post. Why don't you get over there and see what there is to see?  You can catch up to us along the road."

Yearl nodded and started to turn his horse toward the mesa, and Aerin made to follow, but Mara spoke up, stopping them both, "Just Yearl, Aerin."

"How am I supposed to learn if you won't let me ride?"

Mara ignored him and spoke to Yearl.  "How is our young equestrian doing?"

Yearl smiled at Aerin's wide-eyed appeal to speak well of him.  "He's not bad at all; I think he could stay in his saddle during a ride."

Mara considered.  "All right, Yearl, but you keep him out of mischief."

Yearl bowed from the waist in his saddle and then headed them off at an angle away from the wagon, but not right towards the mesa.  He didn't want to scare off the watcher, whoever they were.

Aerin felt his heart pounding; this was more like it!  He was off on an adventure with the mysterious Willowman.  He pictured them finding a spy from the Drakwolfs or some kind of bandit squad bent on highway robbery.

They rode slowly, using the trees for cover to mask their approach.  Yearl explained each thing he did, and why, so that Aerin would learn.  Eventually, they reached a set of rocks that were near one end of the mesa.  At this point, they would have to expose themselves occasionally, as they moved between the large rocks piled along the base, but the place where Lor had seen the reflection was around the corner, so Yearl thought it unlikely they would be spotted.  The slope of the mesa was not as steep here, so they could ride nearly to the top.

Aerin pictured a secret bandit camp on the mesa and wondered how many they would run into when they got to the top.

They started their climb up the increasing slope toward the flat top above.  When they neared the crest they had to get off their mounts and lead them by the bridle between two large rocks that rimmed the crown of the mesa.

Once on top Aerin looked around for signs of the bandits, or whoever else was up here.  The area was much larger than he had imagined and went off into the distance a few miles.

Suddenly Yearl grabbed Aerin by the upper arm.

"Wha..." Aerin started to say when he saw what had grabbed Yearl's attention.

The blood drained out of Aerin's face as if there were holes in the bottom of his feet.

On the other side of the Mesa, down below and out of sight from the road, was a massive army of Togroths.  Aerin tried to count, but in the end had to guess at a few thousand.

"Come on, we're getting out of here!" Yearl whispered, though the Togroths below would never hear him from this many miles away.

"Aren't we going to see who was up here?"

"Togroths, or their masters," Yearl noted.  "No need to let them see us now, it could set off an attack.  Let's head back down and warn Mara."

Quickly Yearl led Aerin down the Mesa slope, following their own tracks back toward the anonymity of the trees.

When they caught up to the wagon Yearl wasted no time.  "Mara, there is a Togroth army, of over four thousand, on the other side of the Mesa!  They were camped, but I estimate them only an hour ride from our position."

Mara stopped the wagon and thought for a moment.  "Tocor, Yearl, we're going back.  Let's get this wagon off the road and out of sight.  The kids will have to stay here until we can return."

"You're going back!" Lor exclaimed.

"Yes, Gandarel has got to be warned, the Togs were sent here to take him.  Gedin save us, I was sure they would be waiting in the Eigen Pass."

"You EXPECTED to find the Togroths?" Dono exclaimed.

Mara smiled sorrowfully, "It is all in the Dark Prophecies, but I've got to remind myself that things can change and details cannot be trusted.  I've fallen prey to the same mistake others make in dealing with the prophecies, people either don't believe them at all or take them word for word as truth.  They are really only likely outcomes."

Once the wagon was off the road and hidden in a small glade fifty yards away, Mara gave her students instructions.  "You stay put until we return, if you don't see us by morning expect the worst, and stay hidden for a time.  It is unlikely the Togs would ride this direction if they have captured their prize, and that is the only thing that would stop us from returning."

"Why can't we come back with you, Mara?" Aerin asked his teacher.

Mara didn't answer immediately; she was busy unhitching a third mount from the back of the wagon.  "You're not quite ready yet, Aerin.  This could easily turn into a battle, and I don't want to have to worry about all of you. And besides, we don’t have enough horses for all of you, and the wagon is too slow."

"What about you?" Katek asked, as soon as he heard the word 'battle' he had become interested.  "Battle is no place for the elderly."

Mara fixed him with a withering stare.  "Katek, just because my body is old, doesn’t mean I can't out think them.  A day will come when you understand the power of knowledge."

"Still, wouldn't it be better to have our strength around you while you think?"

Mara mounted her steed and looked down at Katek, who stood by the left stirrup looking up at her.  "Excellent point, Katek, except I have Tocor and Yearl, and they are more than enough protection for an old woman's body.  Besides, I have a few tricks that even you don't know about.  Now do as I say, we'll be back soon."

With that, Mara, Tocor, and Yearl trotted their horses toward the road away from the watching students.

"That's just great," Katek noted.  "We train for battle, we learn to control our fear, and when the time comes for battle, we're left here with the wagon.  This just cuts."

Aerin agreed with him, but he was too deep in thought to comment.  Some of what Mara had just told them didn't strike him as the complete story.  It wasn't as if he felt that she was lying, but there were half-truths mixed in, he could feel it.  Unbidden, the doubts put there by the Dreadmaster came back to him and he heard that terrible voice replay in his mind, She does my work.   There was no doubt in Aerin that Mara was keeping something from them; he just hoped she had sufficient reason.

Dono was gazing off toward the mesa, though it was hidden from view by the bushy trees of the glade.  "I don't understand something."

Aerin noted Dono's gaze and went over to his friend.  "What is it that you don't understand?"

"Togroths... Mara told us that they would leave the siege because they didn't have supplies, yet they are camped out here in the wilderness, too far from the city fields to forage for food.  What are they eating?"

That made them all pause for a moment.  Aerin thought back to his view of the Togroth encampment from on top of the mesa.  There had been a square shape near the center of the camp, like a fenced in area.

"I saw a kind of corral in the middle, perhaps they have livestock," Aerin noted.

"Where would they get livestock out here?" Katek pondered, "There might be an occasional wild horse herd or some stray cattle, but enough to feed all of those Togs?"

"Togs eat people," Dono noted, voicing a thought the others had entertained, but not mentioned due to its horror.

Aerin suddenly nodded, it was the missing piece.  "That's it; the corral had high sides, higher than any four-legged creature would need.  They have humans in there for their meals."

Lor shuddered.  "The poor fools, to know you were on the dinner menu for those creatures, ug."

"We've got to do something," Aerin decided.

"Whoa, who said anything about 'doing' something!  There are thousands of those things," Lor exclaimed.

“Come on, Aerin, you and I can sneak in and get those people free,” Katek decided, going to the wagon to fetch weapons.

Lor scowled at their large friend, pulling at her lower lip unconsciously.  “If you think I’m going to let you take Aerin away to be killed, so that I have to explain it to Mara, you’re crazier than I thought,” Lor exclaimed in a loud enough voice for Katek to hear in the wagon.

“So what are you going to do about it, girl?” Katek said, poking his head out of the back of the wagon.

One of Lor’s leather juggling balls hit him square in the forehead.  Katek was so surprised he fell into the wagon, his head disappearing from the view of the others.

“Ow, you’ll pay for that!” he yelled from inside.

Lor grinned.  “The answer to your poorly worded question is that I’m going along to make sure Aerin isn’t killed.”

Dono shook his head in disbelief.  “And if you think I’m staying here to face Mara alone, you’re both crazy.”

Aerin smiled, noting how his friends had just talked themselves into the rescue mission.  “All right then, we will all go.  What’s our plan?”  Aerin asked.

Lor poked him in the chest with her finger.  “This is entirely your fault, and since you are the only one who has seen the Togroth camp, I guess it is up to you to come up with the brilliant plan.”

“How is it my fault?  Never mind,” he added hastily as Lor opened her mouth to start in.  “I’ll accept the blame, for now.  OK, here is the plan…”

“Suddenly he has a plan,” Lor noted.

Aerin gave her a contrived look of hurt.  “Hey, you asked me to come up with one, now don’t complain when I do!  I suggest we climb back to the top of the mesa and take a detailed look at the situation.  From there we can make further plans.”

Lor tossed another leather ball at Aerin, who caught it handily and tossed it back.  Without even seeming to catch it Lor made the ball disappear somewhere into her clothing.  “That’s your plan?  It seems to me that you just sidestepped the issue.  This way we’ll have to help you plan once we see what you have seen.”

“Hey, I didn’t get that good a look; we need to study this before we’ll know if there is some way to save them.  Besides, I never really saw the people; we could be getting into danger for some cattle.”

Katek tossed a pile of weapons he had brought from the wagon in front of them.  “I say we go with Aerin’s plan and get moving.  If we just keep discussing this we won't even get up there before dark.”

“Agreed,” Dono said, picking up a sword and hefting it for balance.

The others started stowing weapons about their persons as well.

It took them two hours to walk to the mesa and another half-hour to climb to the top.  They were dusty, and a little tired, when they finally crested the summit onto the plateau.

“OK, keep low and follow me,” Aerin explained, heading them for the southern edge of the mesa where they could look down on the Togroths.

Half way to the edge Aerin suddenly paused when he heard movement from off to their right.  He used hand motions to signal his friends to be silent and stop moving.  Again there was the sound of twigs snapping and a scuffle, as two Togroths came out of the bushes, headed for the sloped end of the mesa where they could climb down.

Upon suddenly seeing the four frozen youths before them the two Togs stopped, their red eyes squinting under the bony brows for a moment.

Before they could move Katek leaped at one of them, swinging his sword in an arc designed to hack the nearest one in the thick neck.

With a snort of surprise, the Tog struck at the swinging blade, deflecting it from Katek's intended target.  The sharp blade cut into the Tog's arm, and it opened its black-toothed maw to bellow in rage.

Aerin jabbed the end of his quarterstaff into the beast's throat, cutting off the scream before it had a chance to emerge full force.

Katek saw Aerin's blow, and expected it to stun the creature momentarily, so he stepped in closer to ram his sword into its chest, but the Tog had other ideas.  Its bloody left arm swept up with blinding speed and caught Katek under the right side of his chin.  Katek flew backward into the brush, from the impact of the thick hairy arm.

To their left the second Tog leaped for Dono.  Lor thought that Mara would have been proud of her student because Dono did not flinch from the seven-foot tall hurling beast, but used his moment of time to consider his move and act.  He switched the sword to his left hand and at the last moment, Dono leaped to his right in a crouch, trailing the sword out to the side.  The Tog had to try and cut across its entire body, with the sword held in its right hand.  Its momentum carried it passed Dono before it could bring its weapon to bear.  Dono's blade cut into its upper left thigh.

The Tog spun and Dono came to his feet and they faced each other again.

Lor had a quarterstaff and put it to good use by blind-siding the beast in the left side of its head, with a wicked roundhouse swing.

The Tog staggered from the blow and then shook its head while spitting out broken black teeth.

Dono lunged forward at the dazed creature in a perfect extension of his blade and body, piercing the Togs low placed heart dead center, right where Tocor had taught him it was located.  Dead, without knowing it, the beast stepped forward, even though this caused the sword to slide further into its body. As soon as he was close enough, the dying Tog swung its sword at Dono's head.

With a yelp of surprise, Dono released his embedded blade and ducked under the creature’s swing, which caused the boy to fall to the ground to avoid the blade's path.

The creature staggered forward and then toppled toward Dono's sprawled body.

Katek lay stunned in the nearby bush, and the other Tog went to finish him off, but Aerin extended his quarterstaff and tripped the beast.

The creature fell to its knees, and with a snarl, it started to regain its feet.  It twisted its misshapen head around to see what had kept it from its prey.

Aerin didn't wait for it to recover; he reversed his staff in a blur and thrust the end toward the beast's head.

The Tog's sword met his staff and cut halfway into the hard wood, which halted its motion.  The Tog's blade was trapped, but it was too strong for Aerin and wrenched the staff from the boy’s hands with a jerk of its massive arm.

Aerin pulled a dagger from his waist and wondered how, for the second time in his short life, he had come to a point where he faced a Togroth with only a dagger in hand.

Suddenly Lor was there and swung her staff at the rising beast.  It tried to bring its sword to bear, but Aerin's quarterstaff impeded the move, and Lor's staff struck the side of its head.

The creature bellowed and fell back to its knees in a daze.

Aerin leaped onto its back and used his dagger to cut the creature's throat.

Gagging, the Togroth reached over its shoulder, with its massive left hand, and threw Aerin a good ten yards.  Aerin went into a ball and rolled across the gravelly terrain.

Lor danced back from the thrashing beast and watched in disgust as its slit throat spewed yellow blood until it finally quit kicking and died.  Once she was sure it was out of the fight, Lor looked to Aerin and found him already regaining his feet.

"Dono's over there," Lor called to him, "I'll see how Katek is faring."

Lor went to the bush, and after checking to see if there was any obvious injury to their friend, she slapped the unconscious boy across the face lightly to try to bring him around.

Katek twitched and muttered something unintelligible, so Lor slapped him again, harder.

"Ow!” he exclaimed, groggily.

Lor slapped him a third time.

Katek’s eyes opened, and a look of anger came over his face.  "Stop slapping me!"

Lor grinned at him, "Didn't I say that you would pay?  Besides, I was just helping to bring you around, since you decided to nap during the battle with the Togs."

"Togs!" Katek said suddenly remembering.  He began struggling mightily to get up and out of the bush, in which his body was entangled.

Lor stepped back and looked to see how Aerin was doing with Dono.

Her grinning cohort, from her youth, was covered with the Togroth's yellow blood, but proud of himself.  Aerin was headed for Katek, but his worried expression relaxed as he saw Katek regain his feet.

"Victory!" Dono called.

Aerin poked him from behind.  "Quiet, we don't want to call down any more Togs on us, or this might swiftly become defeat."

Dono's grin slipped and he looked around the bushes as if more Togs would appear at any moment.

"Everybody all right?" Aerin asked.

Lor and Dono both nodded.  Katek touched his sore jaw.  "I'm fine, just my pride is hurt."

Dono grinned again.  "Nice bruise forming on your face, buddy."

Katek scowled at Lor.  "I think that's more from Lor's gentle waking techniques, than the Tog's blow, but I'm not sure," he growled.

Lor did her best to look innocent.

Dono tried, ineffectually, to rub off some of the sticky yellow blood that stained the front of his clothes.  "What were these two Togroths doing up here?"

Aerin considered for a moment.  "Lookouts, and from the direction they were traveling, I think they were coming from the outer edge."

"They must be the ones I saw from the road!" Lor guessed.  "Their armor, or one of their weapons, caught the sun for a moment."

"It could be, but there might be more of these things up here, so we need to be more careful," Aerin decided.

They picked up their weapons, and after a quick consultation, they decided to continue on their old plan, though they started to take more care to avoid another surprise confrontation.

As they approached the edge of the mesa the four young rescuers got down on their bellies and crawled until the Togroth camp came into view.

The Togs had cleared a large area of brush and trees to make camp.  From the amount of preparation, and time invested, to build the wooden pen, the Togs had obviously intended to stay a few days in this hidden position.  The mesa provided cover and a good position to spy on the road, or signal the troops below that someone was on the road.  It would then be easy for the army to reach the road in time to engage their quarry.

Katek was the first to speak, as the four of them took in the scene below.  "They're mounting up to ride out!"

"Gedin help us, those two we killed must have already signaled them about Gandarel's party on the road," Dono cursed.

"We've got to warn them!" Aerin decided as he started pulling back from the edge.

"Sure," Lor said sarcastically, "we'll yell real loud, and they'll hear us four leagues away."  But she pulled back from the edge and followed her friend.

"We could start a fire," Dono suggested.

"I suppose you brought the tinderbox from the wagon," Lor said dryly.

Dono shook his head, "No, sorry."

Once out of sight from the Togroth army, Aerin started to run across the breadth of the mesa toward the road edge, and his friends followed.

When they reached the edge they could see the Blue column of soldiers strung out along the road.  They were stopped at the moment.  Aerin had hoped that there would be enough of them to withstand the Togroth attack if they were warned, but looking down from above, he got a good look at their total strength, about three hundred men.  Having just fought two of the beasts, Aerin had a healthy respect for the prowess and sheer tenacity of the creatures.  It took a lot to put one down.

"OK, oh brilliant leader, now what?  Shall we moon them?" Lor asked.

"Yes, drop your pants," Katek said with a grin, the thrill of battle still lit the young gladiator's eyes.

Lor scowled at him, "Keep that up and you'll be enjoying the view from a falling position over this cliff."

Aerin ignored his friend's banter and explained his plan, "Get the shiniest thing you have, like the side of your sword or dagger.  We'll all try to reflect the sun onto the soldiers.  If they see a constant reflection, they will at least know someone is trying to signal them about something.  It's the best we can do. By the time we climb down and run to their position, the Togs would overtake us."

It was the best plan they had, so they all started signaling.

After a time, they saw two pairs of riders break off and head toward either end of the mesa.

"There, they saw us a signal, they're sending out scouts," Katek noted.

Lor started pacing. Watching this unfold from the top of the mesa, and being unable to do anything, had them all frustrated, but Lor was the most susceptible.  It made her irritable.

"They're idiots; Mara will already have reached them by now and told them what is out here.  When they saw us signal they should put two-and-two together and figure out to shake a tail and run!"

"What can we do, they're going to be slaughtered!" Dono whispered.

"Nothing, we've done what we can, so now it is up to Mara to talk some sense into them," Aerin decided.  "What we can do is what we came up here for in the first place.  Now that the Togs have left their camp we might be able to slip in and free their prisoners."

"Now you're talking," Katek agreed, "action!  Let's get back to the other side of the mesa."

"How many times are we going to run across this thing?" Dono asked, but he was already running after the others before he finished his sentence.

When they again crawled to their observation position, they found the last of the Togs riding out.  The Tog forces had split, with half of the beasts going around the southern end and the other half going to the north. They would trap the Bluecoats between their two fists.

"Perhaps, if Gandarel’s soldiers attack one of the groups, they can break through and get outside the trap," Dono noted to the others.

"Maybe, but they would take terrible losses," Katek answered.

"It’s better than being wiped out.  I think Mara will have them head for Strakhelm, that way if they do break through they can run for the walls."

"It's a fair distance, especially if they have wounded.  I doubt the Togs will slow down for their wounded," Katek said, in a fatal sounding voice.

"Are you always this cheerful?" Lor asked.

"It's better than being sarcastic," he noted.

"And here I forgot how wise you were," Lor said, dripping more sarcasm.

Aerin watched the last group of Togs ride out; he noted that there were still a few guards left to watch their camp.  As he had remembered, there was a square corral made of round branches interwoven to a height of six feet.  The top of the makeshift corral had sharpened sticks pointing up so that it was difficult to climb out.  Inside they could make out some huddled forms of people grouped together on the ground.

"See," Lor said, as if she had come up with it, "there are people in there."

"Well, it doesn't look like Gedin is going to save them, so it will have to be us," Aerin decided.

"There are still at least twelve Togs around that camp," Lor pointed out.  "And two of them were almost more than we could handle.  Although, Katek could use some additional bruises on the other side of his face, to kind of even him out," Lor noted critically.

"Funny," Katek said dryly.

"Lor's right," Aerin said.

"Katek needs more bruises?" Dono asked, puzzled.

Aerin poked his friend in the ribs with his forefinger, "No, we can't take on twelve Togs; I would hesitate to take on three."

"Mighty warriors that we are," Katek said in disgust.

Dono looked at their friend, "Hey, we didn't do too badly, those Togroth things are dead and we're only slightly worse for the wear."

"Tell that to those poor people in the corral, waiting to be celebration dinner," Katek said, pointing at the Tog camp.

Aerin was worried about Gandarel and the imminent attack, but he brought his wandering thoughts back to the problem at hand.

"We're going to need a diversion, to take the Togs out of sight of the corral, while some of us sneak in to free the prisoners."

"Dread take me, who do you think is going to volunteer to get thirteen Togs hot on their tail?" Lor demanded.

"I was thinking of you," Aerin said with a grin.

"Me!" Lor exclaimed, and her eyes shot daggers at Aerin.

Aerin nodded.  "You are the sneakiest, slipperiest and most elusive of all of us."

"And the compliments just keep coming," Lor growled.  "Now that you have called me a sneaky, slimy, coward I guess that is supposed to make me want to do this... besides, Dono is sneakier."

"He could have called you a thief," Katek noted, "but he didn't."

"Thief?" Lor repeated in exasperation.

"If the shoe fits," Katek noted with a smile.  "Look, we have to decide something soon, so are you up to it, or am I going to have to do it for you?" Katek asked.

"Oh sure, you couldn't get away from an amorous grandmother wearing a blindfold.  Gedin, do I have to do everything?  Fine, I'll do it, but you will all owe me for this!  If I die, I'm going to come back and haunt Katek for the rest of his life!"

"It couldn't be worse than you alive," Katek said with an even bigger grin.

Lor graced him with a pleasant smile.  "You will pay for that remark as well.  I'm going to survive this, just so I can make your life miserable.  Now, let's climb down from here.  Once we split up I'll give you a count of six hundred to get into position around the other end of their camp.  After that, I'll make the diversion.  When you get the people free, we'll meet back up at the wagon... any questions?"

"Yeah, who put you in charge all of a sudden?" Katek asked.

"You did, and this is just the beginning of your torment.  Now, are there any real questions?"

Dono considered for a moment and then asked, "What are you going to do for a diversion?"

"Gedin, I have no idea!  I'll think of something before it is time."

Katek smirked, "Oh, that's just great."

"Hey, I'm the one who will be leading the Togs AWAY from you; it's my hide, not yours, so please... shut up."

"As you wish oh leader and thief," Katek said, backing away from the edge of the mesa.

"I'm going to think of something very painful for that boy," Lor growled, pulling back as well.

"Promise?" Katek whispered huskily.

"Bastard," Lor muttered.

They split up at the base, as planned, and Lor started counting to six hundred.  The others had snuck off quietly to try to get into position.

Four hundred and fifty-five... four hundred and fifty-six. Now, what am I going to do to make a diversion? Four hundred and fifty-seven... she thought as she counted.  These numbers are going by too fast... four hundred and fifty-eight...

Lor thought hard while looking around for possibilities.  She looked at the tall jagged rocks, that were like ragged teeth cut along the top edge of the mesa, and considered causing a rockslide, but they were too far away now to reach in the time she had left.  She continued her count, and as she neared the agreed total her frustration grew.  Wild ideas were considered and discarded, "I'll strip naked and run through the camp cutting Togroth throats, then dash out and hide in a hole... but I don't have a hole ready.  I'll light their camp on fire, but I don't have a tinderbox.  As she considered each plan, Lor kept creeping closer to the camp.  She was already on the fringes when she ran out of time. Any moment now her friends would be moving and she had to make her diversion.  Lor spotted the Togs makeshift corral, with some of the strange horses they rode standing inside.  She considered a stampede but realized there were only about ten of the large beasts.

Aerin and the other boys were in position.  He had just finished his count of six hundred and was waiting for Lor's diversion to begin on the far side of the camp.  The longer they waited the more worried Aerin became.  What if the Togs had captured Lor?  He kept counting, and when he reached eight hundred, he figured the time must have passed by, even if his count had been a little fast.

He signaled with his hand for the others to follow him, as he started to sneak in towards the human pen in the middle.  They moved quickly between pieces of cover, using the occasional bush, log and rock to best effect.  A group of seven Togs was huddled together looking at something on the ground before them.  Aerin had the sudden grim picture of Lor's body lying in the dirt before those beasts.  Then one of them moved slightly and he saw that it was a pile of small dried bones.  One of the Tog barked something and picked up the bones in his large fist.  He cast them back to the sand before them, and the others crowded in tighter to get a good look.

Suddenly one of the Tog went completely upright to its full seven feet of height; it seemed to be sniffing the air.

The boys froze, thinking the brute had sensed them.  Aerin looked for a way to escape if they had to start running, but he feared the Togs were faster runners than the humans.

Then the boys saw what the Tog had already heard; one of their large horses was galloping across the camp.  Swaying wildly in the saddle, was Lor.  What was even stranger was the cloud of dust trailing about twenty feet behind her.  The Togs in the group near the boys ran for the horse, but Lor managed to turn it and cut across an opening between this group of Togs and another group approaching from her other side.  The dust cloud behind her turned out to be a Tog she was dragging by a rope around its neck; its thrashing body tumbled into view, as she made the turn.  Lor suddenly leaned back and cut the tow rope from her mount's saddle horn.  She nearly pitched off her steed backward but managed to grab the saddle horn and wrench herself back onto the galloping beast.  Togs were running two directions, toward her and toward the corral, where the rest of their mounts were stabled.

Aerin watched as Lor made another turn and headed out of the camp toward the mesa.  Aerin grinned, as he watched the Togs leaving their area; Lor’s diversion was working.  Just when Aerin thought Lor would be home free, her mount ran back into the camp, through the dust, and Lor was no longer on its back.

The Togs howled as they too saw she was unhorsed and went after her, following the dust trail.

Aerin's grin faded, but he didn't have time to worry about his friend. They only had a few minutes to make use of Lor’s diversion.  He signaled, and the boys crept forward at a faster pace.  They could see the pen ahead of them where the prisoners were standing at the sides watching the drama of Lor's strange ride.

Lor tumbled to a stop from her fall off her mount. She leaped to her feet, and did a quick survey of her body, but luck was with her and she didn't seem to have broken anything when she fell.  Cursing herself for looking back to check on pursuit when she should have been concentrating on keeping in the saddle, Lor decided on plan ‘B’… run.  She didn't try to hide or dodge; she just put as much distance as she could between herself and her inevitable pursuers.

Ahead the slope of the mesa started up toward the top.  Lor kept running up the slope, though behind her she could hear the guttural calls of the Togs as they spotted their prey.

Gedin save me, the rest of them better make good use of this or I'll be a very angry ghost when I come back to haunt them, she thought.  The slope made the going tougher, and Lor could actually hear the sounds of the Togs feet disturbing the rocks behind her as they quickly closed the distance.  When she was only fifty yards from the summit she risked a glance back, though she had been telling herself not to, since that same idea had cost her a fall from the saddle.  All she needed was to look back and trip on a rock.

She spared a quick look and nearly did fall; it was only her training in controlling her emotions that kept her from panic.  The nearest Tog was only fifteen feet back and coming strong.  The next three were about thirty feet behind him.

Lor put her head down and dug in for her life, but the steep slope made it feel like she was wading through swamp mud.  She waited until she heard the intake of the beast's breath behind her before she whirled and underhanded one of her daggers into the brute's throat.  The Tog was only four feet behind her when she let fly.  It howled, sickeningly around the blade, as yellow blood gushed out of its torn neck.  Lor did not wait; she turned and kept fleeing up the slope.  Behind her, the next three slavering beasts had closed the distance to twenty feet and Lor only had one dagger left.

As they neared the pen containing the captured humans, Katek grabbed Aerin's shoulder and pointed.  There was a gate into the pen, but a Togroth stood next to it, looking off toward the mesa.  Aerin looked around, but fortunately, there was only this one Tog in sight.

Quickly he thought of a plan and explained it in whispers to his two friends.  Dono ran low toward the side of the pen and leaped onto the wooden poles that were strapped together making the sides. He scrambled up to the six-foot height of the wall, where the sharpened poles that were driven into the ground below pointed up into the sky.  But instead of trying to go over the difficult obstacle, Dono made a loud grunt of effort and leaped down to the ground, still outside the compound.

At the sound of his grunt, and the impact of his feet hitting the ground, the Tog on guard spun and saw Dono regain his feet and dash away.

With a bellow, the brute ran after him in chase.  As the large black toothed beast passed between two low boulders, Aerin stuck his quarterstaff out and tripped the running monster.  It landed on the ground, and Katek leaped in from where he crouched behind another rock, slamming the point of his sword into the beast's back.

It howled and rolled, but Aerin rapped it hard on the forehead, and Katek ran it through the heart.

The beast stiffened and died.

Dono was already running back toward the gate, where the penned up humans were at work trying to open it.  As Dono arrived he told them to get back, and then with a cut of his sword, he severed the dry leather thongs that had been knotted to keep the gate shut.

"Follow them!” he exclaimed to the ragtag group of cattlemen, farmers and their families, that were pouring out of the Togroth meat pen.  Aerin and Katek beckoned, and the scared people ran toward the waving boys.  Dono brought up the rear, looking back for signs of pursuit, but all of the other Togs were after Lor.  He sent a prayer to Gedin to protect his friend and then ran after the people they had rescued.

Lor scaled the rock face like it was the road to heaven and the gates were closing above.  She just managed to climb past handheld weapons range, as the chasing Togs arrived below.  The first one tried to leap up and skewer her, but his sword’s tip just missed her moving foot, as she went to the next hold.  Lor kept climbing.  In a moment, one of the beasts thought to throw a dagger, but she was high enough by then that it didn't reach her.  Lor could really climb when her life depended on it.

She still wasn't out of danger.  The Togs consulted, and then two of them started climbing up after her while the other seven, that had now arrived, moved to a place where they could ascend to the top of the mesa between the massive boulders that Lor was climbing.

As Lor climbed she thought about what she was going to do. She wished she had a bow, and then worried about the Togs using one on her.  It didn't seem any of them had thought to fetch one from the camp yet, but eventually, they would.  Lor suddenly remembered the set of steel balls that Tocor had made for her, and cursed her luck when she remembered that she had left them in the wagon.  Lor knew she would have to elude the Togs without her special missiles, and before they fetched their own bows, or she was done.

Lor considered pointing out the fleeing humans to the Togs; they were plainly visible now from this height.  All the brutes had to do was turn and look, and they would see their precious dinner running away, but Lor was worried that the humans were in too bad of shape to move quickly.  Even though they had a head start, the Togs might catch up.  She wished her friends good speed and kept climbing; she was nearing the top of her boulder.

When she stood on top of the tall rock, Lor immediately checked on the progress of the Togs coming up around the long way.  They weren't in sight yet, so she leaned down and checked on the two Togs climbing up the rock below.  They were halfway up the side of the rock.

Lor grabbed some of the small rocks lying around and started dropping them on the two bloodthirsty creatures climbing up.

The small stones just bounced off the brutish Togs, though they looked up at her with hatred in their beady red eyes. They kept coming.

Lor resorted to the largest rocks she could lift.  After two misses, she finally knocked one of the beasts from the rock and it fell to the hard ground below.

Lor went for another large rock, but to her dismay, she saw the seven other Togs approaching swiftly along the top edge of the mesa.

Desperately the young girl looked for a way to elude the slavering beasts.  The cliffs continued in the opposite direction from the Togs, and Lor could see one spire of stone that stood away from the line of cliffs, and it stood taller than the rest.  It was about three hundred yards away.  Lor abandoned the rock she was going to drop on the remaining Tog, climbing up from below, and she started running along the edge of the cliffs toward the spire. She had to leap several gaps between broken stones, as she fled along the broken cliffs.  Behind her, she heard the pack of pursuing Togs call out hunting cries as they saw her fleeing.

Since the Togs were running along the edge of the mesa, instead of navigating the broken cliff edge, they were gaining on Lor.  As she neared the lone spire she realized that the gap between the cliffs and the spire was larger than she had thought.  When Lor finally reached the place where the gap was narrowest, between the lone spire and the cliff face, the Togs were nearly even with her and turned to start out onto the rocks

Lor had no choice now; she had to try for the spire. She ran a short distance toward the approaching Togroths, and when they were only twenty yards from her she skidded to a stop, and then reversed her path. They let out a howl when she turned. Lor ran toward the large gap between the cliff and spire with all her youthful speed.  She leaped with her strong leg muscles and used the skill she had honed over her entire youth on the High Road of Strakhelm. She flew out over the hundred-foot fall below, her mind on a single goal of cheating gravity to land on the shallow ledge that was next to a vertical crack in the wall of the spire.  For a moment she thought she had enough momentum, but then her forward speed slowed too much, and gravity pulled her down.  She slammed into the cliff face hard, bruising the whole side of her body, and cracking her left hip into the stone.  Her hands caught the lip of the ledge above and she managed to cling on through the pain of that hard impact.

Behind her, she heard the Togs barking and knew she couldn't afford to hang and wait for the pain to lessen.  Wincing, Lor pulled herself upwards and rolled up onto the ledge.  She got to a crouch and looked back toward the Togs.  Four of them were slowing, but two were running toward the edge for a leap.

They made the leap nearly at the same time, their faces snarling in hatred for their human prey.  The Tog in the lead leaped the large gap cleanly and sailed toward Lor's ledge.  But the second one slipped at the edge of the cliff, and its leap was too short.

Lor didn't even hear the scream of terror from the falling Tog; she was too busy fighting for her life.  As the other Tog landed on the ledge, Lor met him in a leap that could have taken her off the cliff to fall to her death.  She launched her body up sideways so that she met the Togroth with her feet, rebounding off its large chest and killing its forward momentum.  The Tog outweighed her, but Lor's momentum added impact as she struck its chest.  The impact caused the Tog to lose its balance, and it flailed its arms wildly for a moment before falling.

Lor landed on the ledge and watched the falling Tog disappear over the edge.  She just pulled her foot back in time, as its grasping hand tried to grab hold as it fell.

A thrown dagger struck the rock next to her, and Lor scrambled to her feet.  A glance showed her two more Togroths raising daggers to throw.  Without even looking for a hold, Lor swung around, and into the deep vertical crack, just as the two daggers arrived, striking the stone where she had stood.  In the natural chimney Lor braced her back against one side, and her feet against the other, using pressure from her legs to keep her in position. She started to climb by inching her back up the stone wall and then moving her feet up to match.  It took a while, but eventually Lor reached the top of the chimney and climbed out onto the top of the spire.

The Togs were still milling around on the cliff face, barking at each other in their language.  Eventually, one of the larger brutes clouted another Tog in the face.  That Tog moved back and then ran and leaped the gap to the ledge.  Lor couldn't quite see if it made it because of a bulge in the rock, but she didn't hear it screaming or a sound of impact.  After awhile she heard the sounds of small rocks falling and looked down the chimney.  The Tog was climbing upwards.

There weren't any rocks on top of the spire, so she could not get rid of the Tog by pummeling him from above.  Lor took stock; she had her leather juggling balls and one dagger.  The situation wasn't looking good.  She was just glad her friends had gotten away and freed the captives.

Gandarel was miserable.  He rode in the center of the Bluecoat line with his twelve Guardsmen and three advisors arrayed around him.  He felt like a prisoner going to trial.  The idea that a military officer could come in and just drag him off to some far away city, at a moment's notice, ground on his soul, like a mason wheel on iron.  Not only did they treat him as a child, but they also had no respect for his position, his councilors or his Guardsmen.

The captain in charge of these Bluecoats had made it plain to Gandarel that he considered this escort task beneath his status. He considered the lands east of the Dragonback to be hardly better than the wastelands beyond the border, and the people who decided to live in them, hardly human.

The Captain’s disdain was difficult for Gandarel to swallow. He’d been raised as a boy to think of himself as the heir to the Seat of Stone, the most important person in Strakhelm. To now have a mere captain look down his nose at him, like something that didn’t quite smell right, grated on Gandarel’s sensibilities. He couldn't wait to come before the Regent and denounce the officer for his rudeness.  He pictured the man stripped of uniform and ridiculed before the great court.  It was an image that pleased Gandarel.

Yet, Gandarel’s brief moment of pleasure changed when he thought of the capitol and meeting the Regent.  What if the Regent didn't confirm him to his post?  What if he found him wanting and instead elevated one of his officers, even this ridiculous captain, to the post of Warlord?  Gandarel would then have lost his family's hereditary position, a rank that was once the second most powerful position in the Kingdom, it worried him.

Niler had been coaching him and telling him that everything would be fine once they got to the capitol.  Enolive, on the other hand, agreed wholeheartedly with Gandarel on the outrageous treatment he was receiving from the Bluecoats and didn't think it boded well for the meeting with the Regent.

Hork, High Priest of The Hand, supported the Regent completely and told Gandarel it was time to shape up to the necessities of his post and embrace the Regent's policies.  Hork told him that the Regent was a great man, and how he was the heart of the Kingdom, now that the King was dead. It was the Regent who had sent the High Priest to the borderlands several years ago to shape the young Gandarel.

But as they slowly rode up the dusty road toward the pass through the Dragonback Mountains, Gandarel grew angrier by the mile.  He didn't want to be told when and where he had to go by some prissy captain, and he didn't want to be taken from his friends. He felt like some prize cow being herded to the slaughter.

He pictured Aerin, Dono, Lor, and Katek, back in the city, having fun.  Perhaps they were having an adventure with the Skulls or getting into trouble at the Arena.  He never spoke of this to Niler or Hork, but Enolive was sympathetic and lent him an ear.  If truth be told, he was a little jealous of his friends as well.  They didn't have the weight of the Seat of Stone on their shoulders, nor Mara's precious prophecies predicting their rise to greatness as some NexLord messiah.  Gandarel wasn't even sure what was expected of a NexLord.  To him, it was just another title that meant more responsibility and less freedom to live his life.  All-in-all, he was miserable, he was not the master of his own life, but the puppet of his councilors, the slave to his heritage as Warlord, and the conscript in Mara's prophecies.  Gandarel just wanted to make his own choices and do what he wanted in life. His anger was like a smoldering fire, ready to burst into flame at the right fuel.

The long column of three hundred men was just approaching a large mesa off to their right when there was a disturbance from the front of the column, and everything came to a halt.

"Now what?" Hork demanded, angry at the sudden stop.

Gandarel didn't care; anything that disrupted the Bluecoats path was all right with him.

A few minutes later a Bluecoat Corporal came trotting down the line of men.  "Gandarel Trelic, you are required to attend the Captain at the front of the column."

Gandarel raised an eyebrow at the Corporal's tone, a mannerism he had picked up from Mara, but Gandarel swallowed his angry retort; the man's insolence was nothing new, and Gandarel wanted to see what was happening up front.

The future Warlord started his horse forward and motioned for his guards to follow.

"Just you," the Corporal commanded.

Gandarel stopped his horse and looked at the man.  "I will bring my Guardsmen with me, and my councilors or your Captain can come back here to talk to me."

The Corporal actually sneered when he glanced at the twelve handpicked Guardsmen that were clustered around the young heir.  "The Captain is not at your beck-and-call."

"Fine then," Gandarel stated, then started his horse forward, signaling to his entourage to follow.

The Corporal started to open his mouth but closed it with an audible snap.  He whirled his horse and cantered away, leaving a trail of dust through which Gandarel and his followers would have to ride.

Gritting his teeth, Gandarel followed the Corporal.

As they approached the front of the line, Gandarel made out three riders surrounded by Bluecoats.  He didn't see who they were until he drew near.  From behind him, Gandarel heard a choking sound from Hork, just as the large form of Tocor came into view.

Niler spoke with a little anger.  "Not that same troublesome woman, again!  Confound her, how did we ever let her get the notion that she has any control over Gandarel's destiny?  Will this woman never desist?"

The Bluecoat Captain addressed his Corporal.  "Why is Gandarel's entire entourage following like a pack of dogs?"

"He wouldn't come without them, and I didn't have time to teach him manners," the Corporal answered.

Niler nearly sputtered with indignation.  "I'll hear none of this!  Gandarel is the future Warlord of this country, you will treat him with respect, or I'll have the Regent throw you in irons when we reach the capital!"

The Captain laughed.  "My dear Councilmen, the Regent may or may not confirm this boy's position, though I have my opinion as to what that outcome shall be.  Until then, he has no authority.  As to you, I do not answer to councilors, nor does the Regent, so watch your tongue lest you lose it forthwith."

Niler’s bushy eyebrows quivered and his eyes grew wide in his shock at the Captain's rude statements and threats, but Gandarel put up a hand to head off his councilman's coming outburst.  "Be that as it may, Captain," Gandarel said, putting as much derision into the military title as he could," I am still, as of this moment, the heir to the Seat, and that means you shall treat me as such.  Now, what is going on up here, and why is Mara here?"

The Captain was angry, but he gathered himself after a moment.  "You know this woman?"

"She is my teacher," Gandarel explained.

"Well, she has supposedly come to warn us of some great Togroth attack, for Gedin's sake, by an army hidden behind that mesa.  Everyone knows that since the Last War the Togroths are just a nuisance that can be handled by untrained 'policemen'.  There are only a handful of these brutes left in the world; they certainly don't have enough numbers to form an army.  If there were a few of the beasts skulking around they wouldn't attack well-armed men.  I only called you forth, before tying this woman to a tree and leaving her there for her insolence, because she told me that she knew you and I wanted to confirm that she was a liar.  Since you say you know her it only proves she wasn't lying about that."

Gandarel looked toward the mesa with a little fear; if Mara said there was a Togroth army, Gandarel believed her.  "Captain, you can trust this woman when she gives her word.  Is there really a Tog army behind the mesa?"

Mara nodded.  "Yearl saw it for himself, over four thousand of them."

Hork spoke up, "Ha, Captain, she gives you the word of a Willowman."

The Captain looked at the lavender-skinned man with utter disdain.  "We do not abide such trash to live in the west."

The Corporal laughed.  "Four thousand Togroths, there aren't that many left alive in the entire world."

Gandarel was furious with the Bluecoat officers.  "Didn't I tell you that an army of Togs far larger than that lay siege to the city not long ago?"

"That is a ridiculous claim, that won't do you well when you go before the Regent. Not that it matters anyway.  You are just trying to justify an old position that has no more use.  The wars are over, and the Togroths a myth you prolong, as did your father, just to maintain your post.  Corporal, lash that woman to a tree and hang the Wiggin and that... bald thing, he looks half Tog himself.  We'll leave her here and she can work her way loose over time."

Gandarel started with alarm as the Bluecoats began to close on Yearl and Tocor.

Mara shook her head sadly.  "The Kingdom has let the blood thin in the ranks of the Worthy.  I just hope that all officers aren't a tenth as bad as you or we are all doomed."

"Captain, I'll not allow you to hang..." Gandarel started.

The Captain whirled on Gandarel.  "You shut up, or you'll join them!"

Hork smiled with triumph, as the Bluecoats converged on Mara and her friends.

Mara spoke to the grinning priest.  "Hork, you know the truth, do you not wish to save lives here?”

"She begs ME for the wicked lives of the demon spawn," he answered in disgust.

"I speak of the lives of these soldiers," Mara explained.

Gandarel didn't know what to do; he started to signal his men to defend Mara when the ground began to shake.

"It is too late," stated Mara.

"What is that?” the Corporal demanded.

"That, my fine disbelieving Worthy, is the mythical Tog army reaching a gallop.  They will be on you in minutes," Mara explained.

The Bluecoats were frozen, and Mara took that moment to rise onto her mount.  Yearl and Tocor mounted at the same instant.

"Captain, you can't withstand them, but you can retreat into the hills and possibly elude them.  They are fierce fighters, but they aren't the brightest of opponents, but you have to act now!"

The Captain saw a massive cloud of dust from the east and another from the west.  There was panic in his voice when he spoke.  "Form up the troops!"

His soldiers felt and heard the panic, and it immediately affected them.

"Don't show panic, you fool!" Mara declared.  "You can still retreat!"

The Captain didn't even hear her, he started pointing and shouting conflicting orders to his men and officers.

Mara trotted forward, forgotten for the moment.  "Gandarel, we must flee!"

"I will not abandon these soldiers," Gandarel declared.

Hork was confused, he still didn't understand that he was about to die.  With the sudden realization, a look of complete panic descended on the High Priest of The Hand.  He galloped away into the trees.

"Captain, gather your men and follow me," Mara tried, but the Bluecoats were in complete disarray, as soldiers from the rear of the column now rode up in panic.

The Togroths hit from the west first and cut into the milling Bluecoats like a pitchfork through hay.  Any last semblance of order was destroyed, and the entire troop broke apart and fled in all directions.  Those who managed to fight were so outnumbered that they were killed in minutes.

As the Togs hit, Mara grabbed Gandarel's mount by the bridle and spurred her horse to the south, heading for the trees.  Tocor and Yearl were with her, and Gandarel's well-trained Guardsmen followed.  The hurling panic caused councilman Enolive's horse to run and he was lost in the flight of the Bluecoats.  Niler somehow managed to get his horse moving and chased after Gandarel.

As soon as they were moving in the right direction, Mara let loose of Gandarel's mount, he didn't argue anymore but kept following Mara at a gallop.

Lor made her decision, rather than wait to battle the ascending Togroth, once it completed the climb to the top of the chimney, she opted to descend the opposite side of the spire.  From their position on the cliffs, the other Togs could not see that she was climbing down.

Lor descended at nearly breakneck speed. She was worried that the one in the chimney would reach the top too soon, and alert the others.  Since she had no fear of heights, her mind stayed on the business of finding hand and foot holds.  In the time it took the Tog to climb up the short chimney, Lor descended one hundred feet to the ground at the base of the spire.  From there she darted from boulder to boulder and reached the base of the main cliffs to the east of the Togs.  Once there, Lor ascended the cliffs hidden from the sight of the spire and the Togs on the cliffs, by using a gully to shield her.  When she reached the top of the mesa she poked her head up and saw the Togs looking down at the flatlands trying to spot her.  Obviously, the other Tog had reached the top of the Spire and found her gone.  She just hoped they wouldn't believe she would climb back up to where they were waiting.  Lor slipped over the edge and crawled from cover to cover, keeping an eye on the Togs on the cliffs and the top of the spire in case the one up there looked in her direction.

After twenty yards she was in thick enough brush to run at a crouch across the top of the mesa.

Once she traversed the top and arrived at the far side, Lor could see the dust of the recent attack on the Bluecoats.  There were smaller trails of dust branching out into the tree covered hills and valleys. She figured those were made by fleeing Bluecoats, or Tog hunting parties.

Just great, Lor thought, now I will have to keep dodging more Togs to get back to the wagon.  I hope that Aerin doesn't head those escaped prisoners THIS way.

She descended the cliffs and started making her way down the slope toward the wooded hills.

It was nearly dark when Aerin led their group of refugees into a clearing and found a group of fifteen Bluecoats.  The soldiers were hiding in the clearing and watching to the southeast.  Aerin stepped into the clearing from the northwest and startled the soldiers who leaped to their feet with drawn weapons, only to relax when they saw his human form.

"What are you doing out here, boy?"  a soldier demanded, and then the refugees came into sight behind Aerin.

"We helped these people escape from the food pens of the Togroth camp that is over that way," he said, waving in the general direction of the Togroth camp.

"We were attacked by those beasts hours ago," the soldier exclaimed.

Aerin looked around.  "Where are the rest of your men?"

"Dead, for all I know.  We haven't seen any others for some time.  There were ten or twenty thousand of those things!"

Dono looked at the obviously scared soldiers, some were wounded, and all of them had a shocked look behind their eyes.  Their once pristine uniforms were torn and dirty from crawling through brambles and hiding in the dirt.  Sweat and bloodstains were caked with mixed dust.

"What are you going to do?" Dono asked the man who seemed to have taken the lead for the soldiers, though Dono saw no sign of rank on his uniform.

"Gedin's blood, I don't know, look for the Captain once these devils have left."

Aerin considered the refugees and the wounded soldiers.  "You'll never find your captain out in these woods, and the Togs are going to be hunting."

"Well, I suppose you have an idea," the scared man growled.

"I think your captain will fall back to the city if he's smart.  There is protection behind the walls and medical aid for the wounded."

"That's a good idea, Boon," seconded another soldier with a wounded arm in a makeshift sling.

"Yeah, well maybe it is and maybe it isn't."

One of the farmers came up to join the conversation.  His clothes were in rags and his wife and two small children were almost clinging to him.  "Sir, could you help us get back to the city?  We're starving and there ain't no food."

Boon growled but nodded.  "All right then, we're going to fall back to that city.  We'll wait for full dark and then make our way."

Aerin nodded and went to talk to his friends.  When they were out of casual earshot from the Bluecoats Aerin spoke in a quiet voice.  "I doubt these guys are going to let some young boys go off on their own, but I'm not going back to the city.  We have to get to the wagon in case Mara comes back."

Dono nodded.  "OK, what about the people we rescued?"

"The soldiers should get them back to the city now if anyone can.  I say our job is done," Katek stated.

Aerin nodded, "Yes, and I'm worried about Lor.  We'll check the wagon first and if she's not there, we go out for her, agreed?"

"Right," Dono stated, "but how are we going to shake these Bluecoats?"

"Just wait until dark and then we’ll slip off back the way we came.  They won't follow us, they're too scared," Aerin noted.

Katek grinned.  "They need to be toughened up by Mara!  That would put some starch in their uniforms!"

Both Dono and Aerin grinned.  For some reason, even though they knew Mara had gone to warn the Bluecoats, they weren't worried about her surviving the attack.  There was something strong about their old teacher. Besides, they figured Tocor could take all 4,000 Togs if it came down to it.

As darkness descended, Aerin told one of the farmers that they had to leave to go back and look for their friend, and to tell the others not to worry about them.  The farmer thanked the boys for all of them and said he would take care of it.   Then the three boys slipped off into the night.

At the wagon, Tocor was just mounting up, and Yearl was reaching for his horse's bridle when Mara held up her hand and pointed toward the woods.  Yearl stopped and then listened for a moment before he moved. He was faster than could be believed, as he suddenly slipped off and disappeared into the woods.  There was a yelp, and all of Gandarel's Guardsmen reached for weapons, but when Yearl appeared he was escorting a red-faced Aerin, Dono, and Katek.

"I hate it when he does that," Aerin muttered, glancing at Yearl beside him.

"And where have you been?"  Mara asked, in that tone of voice that Aerin knew so well; he was in hot water and Mara was determined to see him cook.

But Aerin was worried about Lor, and anything else, even his own hide, was of less importance to him.  "Is Lor here?"

Mara raised an eyebrow at him but answered.  "No, I had hoped she was with you miscreants."

"Well, she was," said Dono, drawing out the last word.

"I think I better hear this from the beginning," Mara noted, pointing for the three of them to take seats around her.  She continued standing with a scowl on her face and her hands on her hips.

"But we need to go look for Lor!" Aerin stated.

"If she is lost, she'll come this way if not then we'll find her in a few minutes.  I can't help if I don't know what happened," Mara explained.  "Now start telling."

Katek took up the narration, taking blame square on his shoulders for instigating the scouting mission.  Mara glanced at Aerin during part of that explanation and broke in, "Was the plan yours, Aerin?"

Aerin nodded.

"I thought so, it sounded like you, continue," she ordered.

Dono took up the narration for a while, detailing the battle with the Togs on the mesa.

Thereafter Aerin told of the rescue, and the meeting with the Bluecoats, followed by their escape and return to the wagon.

"And now I'm leaving to go and find Lor, she might have been captured by the Togs," Aerin declared.

Gandarel nodded, "I agree, we've got to rescue her!"

"And I didn't know you really cared, Gandarel!" Lor said, stepping into the clearing.

Mara didn't even look up from her students, though they all leaped to their feet.

"Lor, you're alive!" Aerin exclaimed in relief.

"Of course, she is, she has been listening from that bush for the past ten minutes," Mara said, pointing.

Lor grinned, "I wanted to see what lies you guys were going to tell about me."

"And did they?" Gandarel asked.

"Nope they told it pretty straight, but I'll fill in the rest."

"This ought to be ripe," Gandarel noted.

Lor gave him her innocent look, "I ALWAYS tell the truth; you know that."  With that statement, she told her story.

Mara was quiet afterward.  Though they had disobeyed her order, it had been for a good reason and she knew she wasn't training these kids to be timid.  In essence, it was Mara's own fault that they had no fear of sneaking into a Togroth camp.  She knew they had far more dangerous things to accomplish in their future.  She just hoped they survived long enough to reach those challenges.

To the surprise of all her young students, Mara said, "Well done."

"Well done?" Niler Corbin said incredulously.  "These children sneak off and nearly get killed by monsters, and you say, well done?"

"These 'children' killed two Togroths in a straight up fight, and then managed to rescue humans from a Togroth feed pen.  The girl then killed another FOUR all by herself.  I doubt all the Bluecoat soldiers together managed to kill that many Togs.  These are young warriors; they stopped being children some time ago."

The shoulders of Mara’s students straightened at the rare public display of their teacher’s pride.

Niler sputtered, but Mara ignored him.  She turned to her students.  "Now I'll fill you in on what happened with us."  She told them the story of her meeting with the Bluecoats.  Gandarel noted that there were a few things not mentioned, but he chalked it up to a difference in what they remembered.

"Now what?" Dono asked when all the accounts were finished.

Mara smiled.  "Now we move on west without the Bluecoats.  The survivors will probably do as that other group did fall back to the city."

Niler Corbin shook his head, "We'll do nothing of the sort.  We're going back to the city, where Gandarel will be safe!"

"There is no safety there, or anywhere, for Gandarel, only paths he can choose," Mara countered.

Niler stepped up face-to-face with Mara and shouted, "You do not make Gandarel's decisions for him… I do."

Mara raised an eyebrow and didn't flinch at the man's close face or his loud words, "Stop shouting before you bring down the Togs on Gandarel and the rest of us.  As for Gandarel's decisions, he will make them for himself.  I will not force him and neither will you, though you may give him your council, as will I."

Niler scowled, but he didn't say anything further.

"I think we should go back as well," Gandarel stated, the last thing he wanted to do was continue on to the capital.

"There, you see, he listens to me because he knows I am right," Niler exclaimed, though he controlled the volume of his voice.

Mara turned to face the young heir to the Seat of Stone.  "Gandarel, if you go back to Strakhelm the Bluecoats will only escort you on to the capital eventually.  Wouldn't it be better to arrive on your own, not escorted in like some stray dog they brought in on a leash?"

Gandarel considered for a moment and then smiled.  "You are a tricky old woman, Mara."

"I've been called worse," she noted, glancing in Niler's direction.

"Gandarel, I am your counselor, and I am telling you it is too dangerous to continue.  We should go back and fetch your Guardsmen before attempting this journey," Niler argued.

Mara laughed, "And then what, empty the city to guard Gandarel on a journey that he could just complete now?  What happens if the Togs attack the city while you have stripped it of the Guard?"

Gandarel considered for a moment.  "Mara's right, we're going on right now.  As much as I want to go back, it's not the right thing to do."

Niler started to say something but he bit off his words, then turned away in frustration.

Mara turned to the rest as if the power struggle had never happened.  "Let's get moving, the Togs will be gorging themselves on the meat of the dead by now and not be in a mood to search in the dark."

"There's an image I didn't need," Dono noted.

Mara continued, ignoring his comment, "Let's saddle up and put some distance between us and them by morning.  We can pull up and rest during the hot part of the day, tomorrow, and look for signs of pursuit.  You four have had adventure enough, get some rest in the back of the wagon," she said, pointing to Lor, Dono, Katek, and Aerin.

With Yearl out scouting ahead of them, they avoided any confrontations with Togroths, and morning light found them entering the foothills.  Ahead, rising out of the low morning mists like great teeth, the mighty Dragonback range dominated the sky.

Aerin poked his head out of the wagon and beheld the awesome sight for the first time.  The Dragonback was the largest mountain range in the Kingdom.  He had been born to the north, on the eastern side of the Dragonback, and only traveled south toward Strakhelm.  He had heard the Dragonback described in the histories he used to read with his father, but nothing prepared him for this magnificent sight.

Aerin ducked back inside the wagon and grabbed Lor by the foot.  Lor grumbled in her sleep and dug deeper into her blanket.  Aerin crawled up next to her and spoke near her ear.  "Togroths are everywhere!"

Lor leaped up with the wooden spoon, she had mistakenly grabbed in her sleep, held like a knife ready for combat.

"Please, don't spoon me!" Aerin cried in a faked voice of fear.

Lor looked around blinking and Katek buried his head in the cloak he was using for a pillow as he tried to muffle his laughter.

Lor rapped Aerin on the top of his head with the spoon, "Aerin, you have also made my dirt list, beware."

"Come on, I didn't lie, there probably are Togroths everywhere around, but you HAVE to look out front and see this."

Lor looked at him suspiciously and then glanced longingly at her warm blanket.

"It's worth it, Lor," Aerin said seriously.

With a low growl, Lor scooted passed Aerin and poked her head out the wagon front, where Tocor was driving.

"Sweet Megan, look at that.  Those aren't real, are they?"  Lor asked anyone.

Tocor chose to answer her.  "They are real, and we've got to go into them.  You'll be less impressed as it gets colder.  I miss my desert already."

At the mention of cold Lor realized that goose bumps were standing out all over her exposed arms.  She was only wearing a sleeveless vest and short pants.  She crawled back over Aerin and managed to give Katek a kick as she went by, achieving a nice ‘whooshing’ sound from him.

As Lor got back under her covers she noticed Mara sitting at the back of the wagon, propped up by the backboard.  She was using the morning light that came in through a crack in the canvas to read an old document.

"Morning, Mara," Lor said, pulling the blanket up until just her eyes were peeping over the edge.

"Good morning, Lor, this is early for you."

Lor poked Aerin with her foot.  "It's his fault, though I have to admit that those mountains were almost worth the effort."

"They are an impressive feature.  No doubt one of the reasons humans settled here."

Lor had no idea what their teacher was talking about, so she did what she normally did when Mara said something cryptic, she ignored it.

"What are you reading?"

"I was surprised by the Togroths attacking where they did, so I'm trying to look at the prophecies and see where else I need to anticipate possible variances.  I don't want to be surprised again, that last one could have been fatal.  By the way, good job catching sight of that reflection on the cliffs.”

Lor felt a warmth flood through her, it was difficult to get compliments from Mara; the woman expected you to do as well as she did at all times.  "So what is in store for us?"

Mara smiled.  "I'm not reading about what is in store for us, Lor, I'm seeing what to avoid."

"All right, what is there to avoid?"

"Far too much to go into, I'll keep you informed if I think something is pertinent, you can count on that."

"Why don't you just let us read them?"

"I have my reasons," Mara stated but didn't elaborate.

Aerin was listening from under his blanket, and again, he was worried about what the Dreadmaster had said.  Mara kept hiding things from them and he wondered why.  He suddenly remembered that she had told him they were headed for the 'Chamber of the Nexus', but she told Gandarel that they were headed for the capitol!

Aerin pulled the covers from his face and looked over at Mara on the far side of the wagon.  "Mara?” he said.

"Yes, Aerin?"

"Why did you lie to Gandarel?  Or aren't we going to that chamber place?"

Mara's eyes were dark pools as she gazed back at him, but he was stubborn and refused to drop his eyes this time.

"Well, that was a rude good morning.  Calling someone a liar is not a way to endear them to you, or get straight answers."

"I'm sorry, that just came out wrong.  Let me try again, you told Gandarel we were going to the capitol.  Is that where we are headed?"

Mara smiled, "Better, but you still infer that I was lying, but I'll answer you.  Yes, what I said was the truth, our final destination is the capital, but I did not say we wouldn't be stopping along the way."

"The Chamber of the Nexus," Aerin said, though it was not really a question.

"Yes, Gandarel has a meeting with destiny.  I must make sure it happens or many things in these dark writings shall come true.  Not the least of which is many of us dying."

"What will happen to him in the Chamber?"

Mara set down the paper she was reading.  "Aerin, I will tell you this, I will make sure you, Gandarel, and the rest of my students, past and present, know the answers to that question before I ask Gandarel to enter.  I don't want to explain the possibilities many times over, is that satisfactory?"

Aerin felt the blood rush into his face at her last question; he had been grilling her pretty hard.  "That would be fine, thank you, Mara," he added lamely.

"Fine then, so if you don't have any more questions right now, may I return to reading my papers?"

"Sure," Aerin said, getting back under his blanket before Mara melted him with a stare.

"Good," she said and lifted the document she had been reading.  And though her eyes were on the paper, her mind was on other things.

At noon, they stopped in a small valley and rested the horses.  Mara wouldn't let anyone start a fire, so they had to eat cold cheese and hard crackers that she brought out from the wagon stores. After everyone had rested she had them gather firewood and load up the wagon.  From here out, until they cleared the mountains, the kids would have to walk or ride like the others, as the wagon would be hauling the firewood they needed to make it across the cold pass.

"Is there snow up there, Mara?" Dono asked.  He had never seen snow before.

Mara looked up at the tall white peaks.  "Yes, but not down in the Eigen Pass, at least, not this time of year, unless we are unlucky enough to hit a storm.  Let's hope that doesn't happen."

"Oh, OK, I was, well, I just wanted to see what it was like," Dono said.

Mara smiled, and Aerin noted it was that look she had in her eye when she was cooking up something for her students.  "I think there will be an opportunity for you to experience snow before this journey is over, I do indeed."

From the tone of her voice, and that same look in her eye, Dono suddenly didn't like the idea as much.

They headed out and soon the road started to climb steeply.  Looking back from where he was walking along the road, Aerin could make out the hilly lands they had just left behind.  He wondered if he would ever return to Strakhelm and the childhood he had known there.  He could remember traveling with his parents, but the last few years with Mara seemed as the bright colors of daylight compared to the shadows of night that were previous memories.  Each foot they traveled into the Dragonback took him from that bright time, and he felt he would never reclaim it again.

"You look sad, friend Aerin," Katek noted.

The taller boy was walking alongside him.

"I feel I'm losing something.  In the last few years, I found my friends in the city streets and we had some great times there. Even Strakhelm’s darker side has become familiar.  Ahead I only see a mighty range of mountains, and beyond that, mystery and the unknown."

Katek slapped him on the back.  "That's just it, Aerin, when you first entered Strakhelm wasn't it strange, unknown and mysterious?"

"Well yes, now that I think about it.  I had just lost my parents; I didn't know what was going to happen to me."

"But now you look back at those adventures you had in fond remembrance.  This is no different.  Ahead of us lies the adventures of the future, and one day you will look back on this time in fond remembrance, and you will say, 'I was there, with Mara and Katek, and there was nothing like it, nor will there be again.'   So instead of being sad about leaving the memories of the past, enjoy the making of new memories, for this is a time of adventure, and you may find you only have a few in your entire lifetime."

"How did you get so wise?" Aerin asked with a slight smile for his friend.

"I've always been smart, but I can't claim to have come up with that bit entirely on my own.  My old master Temmen told me much the same when he took me from my first home.  His words are my gift to you, they are precious to me."

"Thank you for sharing them with me, Katek.  You have cheered my heart."

"Aerin, you are my friend, I cannot have you dragging along like a dead rat on a string."

"Thanks for the picture," Aerin said dryly.

"Don't mention it."

During the next three days of travel, the walls of the Eigen Pass rose around them and soon bracketed the small band of travelers.  Ahead they could see the sheer walls of the pass winding off into the mountains.  The road still climbed steeply, but the sides of the Dragonback Mountains to either side of the pass soared upwards to heights ten thousand feet above.  It was a humbling sight.

That afternoon, Mara called a halt to their progress through the pass.  Gandarel was puzzled; it was far earlier than they had stopped on the previous nights.

"Here it comes," Lor whispered to Aerin.

"You think so?" Aerin asked.

"Why else would she stop here?"

Aerin looked around.  This place in the pass seemed unremarkable if any part of this pass could be termed that.  The sheer walls of granite still towered so high above the floor that Aerin grew dizzy when he looked up for too long.

"I don't see anything," Aerin noted.

Mara climbed down from her wagon, and Gandarel trotted his horse over to where she stood.  "Why are we stopping?"

"We're going to be departing from the road for a time."

Gandarel looked around, much as Aerin had just done.

"Why?” he asked after a moment.  "Is there someone pursuing us?"

Niler gave Mara a puzzled look, he didn't know what she was up to, but he was wary.

Mara shrugged, "I don't know, though it is likely.  Still, we must make a detour from the path for now.  We will return and pick up the road again once we are done."

Gandarel looked exasperated.  "I don't think this is a good time for you to be cryptic, Mara."

"Then climb down from that nag, so I can talk to you, I promise all will be explained."

Gandarel was muttering about strange stops in the middle of ominous mountains, as he dismounted, but he followed Mara and the other students away from the wagon toward a single evergreen tree that towered above all others, and Niler came along.  Once they were near the tree Mara stopped.

"Thank you all for being patient with me, it was necessary, but we have reached the point where some of what is hidden must be revealed."

Aerin broke in with a question, "Why are you keeping things secret in the first place, Mara?"

Mara gave him a small smile.  "Secrets are sometimes necessary, Aerin.  I have many reasons, some of which I am not going to tell you right now, but..." she said, holding up a hand to forestall comments, "I will answer your question as to this.  There were events listed in the Prophecy of Gold that should you have known you may not have let them happen.  These events were important in that they helped to keep us on the best path."

"Prophecies aren't worth the paper they are written on," Niler opinioned.

"Please, keep your opinions to yourself.  You can have your say when I am through," Mara said in a pleasant voice.

Niler considered her tone, then nodded his acceptance of the bargain.

"But you said we have departed from that path, and are now in the Dark Prophecies," Aerin noted, getting back to the discussion.

"Yes, we are charting a dangerous path through a set of prophecies that describe doom in multiple details.  Again, for reasons that I have discerned, it has been important to keep certain details from you lest by knowing them you make them happen."

Gandarel looked at her sourly. "But that is the opposite of what you just said about the Prophecies of Gold, you can't have it both ways."

"Actually, I can, you see I haven't kept everything from you, just the parts that would hurt you.  I've done this in different ways with both prophecies.  In the end, I even tried telling Gandarel information from the Prophecies of Gold in hopes that, against my better judgment, by knowing you, would decide to listen to me.  That failed, but we have not lost, yet, the future is not set.  It can still be changed from its primary path of possibility, much as it did when the Prophecies of Gold were changed to the Dark Prophecies.  I still have hope."

"I bet this is where you are going to tell me something I don't want to hear," Gandarel guessed.

Mara smiled.  "It is, indeed.  If we continue up this pass to the capitol right now, it is written in the Dark Prophecies that you will... disappear.  I don't know how, or why, but you cannot go to the capital until you have passed through the Wall of the Chamber."

"Wall, Chamber... what is this about?" Gandarel asked darkly.

Instead of answering his question directly, Mara asked him a question.  "Gandarel, you know why I came to Strakhelm, and why I have been teaching you, don't you?"

"This NexLord business… you've mentioned it more than once.  As I understand it, you have this idea that I am to be this new wondrous NexLord, but I don't share your belief.  I know everyone reveres the last NexLord, Ragol, but I think he was just a good commander.  Calling me a NexLord isn't going to change who I am."

"But that's where you are wrong, Gandarel.  There is a power in the Nexus.  You missed some of your training, but we can fix that.  This power was put there in ages gone by to fight the power of the Dreadmaster.  It is written, in more than one vision of the future, that you will be the new NexLord."

Aerin spoke up, trying to help Mara.  "It's true, Gandarel, you know my father was a scholar, he was bringing us to Strakhelm to document your story."

"You mentioned some Chamber, is it the Chamber of Stone?" Gandarel asked.

Mara’s eyes tightened slightly, she didn't know where he had heard that, but there were various popular legends about it, so she ignored the nagging feeling tugging at her mind.  "Yes, that is the heart of the Nexus."

Gandarel was silent as he recalled the dark words he had read that night he opened the box in Mara's room, he could see them now as clearly as when he first read them. “...and inside the Chamber of Stone, he will know that his failure has killed his best friend..."

Gandarel stole a quick glance at Aerin; there was no doubt in his mind that Aerin was his best friend in the entire world.  He couldn't go into that Chamber if there was any chance... he just couldn't.

"Mara, I understand, but tell me this, should I have left Strakhelm with you when you asked?"

"There is no doubt of that, but that is passed and now we go on to make the future better.  I understand your reasons for staying, misguided as they were, you were thinking of your people."

Gandarel nodded, "I'm glad you see it that way because I'm not going to this 'Chamber of Stone'.  We'll just have to figure a way to get past it as well."

Mara became angry, "Gandarel Trelic, you don't realize what you are doing.  Let me tell you about the real power of a NexLord."

"I think it is my turn at this point," Niler said, sensing victory from Gandarel's standing up to her on his own.

"Milord, Bluecoats!" one of Gandarel's Guardsmen called to them, interrupting Niler.

"Gedin save me, why can't anything go right?" Mara growled.

Up the Eigen Pass they all saw a group of about twenty Bluecoats coming at a full gallop.

"Why are they pushing those horses?" Mara asked, more to herself than to the others.  "Yearl, we move up the canyon, NOW!" Mara yelled.

Tocor and Yearl had been preparing some food packs and warm clothes; at Mara's yell, they both sped up their preparations.

"You men," Mara yelled to the Guardsmen, "quickly strap on those packs, your future Warlord's life depends on it!"

The Guardsmen started picking up the packs, and Gandarel and the other students crowded around Mara.  "What's wrong?" Aerin asked.

"Those Bluecoats wouldn't be galloping those horses up this steep pass if there wasn't a damn good reason, Togroths, most likely."

"Togroths!" Lor exclaimed.

"Or worse," Mara muttered.

"What are we going to do?" Dono asked.

Mara shrugged, "Much depends on what they tell us, but I want to be ready to move in case the news is bad."

"Are we going to make a run up the pass?" Katek asked.

Mara shook her head as she said, “They would catch us if they are this close to the Bluecoats, and it looks like their mounts are just about done in.  We'll head up the secret canyon, its right up there, past the marker tree."

Gandarel scowled and said, "Toward the Chamber of Stone."

"Yes, but you can make your mind up about going in when we survive this, all right?" Mara said

"I'm not going in there," Gandarel muttered darkly.

Niler stood behind him and put a hand on his shoulder to show his support.

Mara didn't have time to discuss it further; the Bluecoats were galloping up to the wagon.

Gandarel went with Mara as she headed for the group of dismounting riders and their heaving mounts.  Because of the cold mountain air, each exhalation the tired horse's breath showed as twin streams from their snorting nostrils.

As they arrived at the group of riders, Gandarel was surprised to see Enolive among them.

"What news?" Mara asked, getting right to the point.

"A large group of those creatures is right behind us," the Corporal answered, looking back over his shoulder down their back trail.

"Pull yourself together, how many of them are there and how far back are they?" Mara demanded.

For a second the arrogance of the officer shown in his eyes, but the fear was too strong and his shoulders drooped again, "I'm not positive, a thousand of them, at least.  I think they will be here in less than an hour, but I can't be sure."

"Tocor?" Mara asked, turning to consult with the Quarian.

He was leaning down on the ground and pressing his ear to the earth.  "Thirty, maybe forty minutes, no more.  His count may be correct; there are a lot of them."

The soldier's started trying to remount their tired horses, but Mara stopped them.  "Wait; there is no need to panic.  Besides, your mounts are near collapse.  If you ride them any further you will only kill them and then you'll be caught and eaten by the Tog before nightfall."

"Then what are we going to do?" a Bluecoat soldier demanded, fear very evident to Aerin, who was watching with interest.

"There is a small canyon just over there by that group of trees.  I've been through it before.  It leads to a group of caves that can be defended, if necessary, or we can possibly just lose them in the maze.  It's pretty high up, so we'll have to lead the horses and carry rations from the wagon.  Tocor will divide up what we need and pass it out to you.  Now act like soldiers, we leave here in fifteen minutes."

With someone obviously in charge, with a plan, the soldier's fears settled down and they managed to get the rations divided.  Tocor spent a few minutes unhitching the team and tying items onto them as pack horses.  Then they all led their mounts toward the trees.

On the other side, they found a narrow cave that allowed one horse to pass at a time.  After a short way, it opened up to the sky again with steep cliffs to either side.

The canyon path started climbing quickly, headed upward toward the snow-coated heights.

Aerin was walking in line behind Dono.  "Hey, this must be the part where you get to see snow."

"Great, next time I think I'll pass on snow if it means being chased by a thousand hungry Togroths up a narrow canyon," Dono replied.

"Hey, nobody ever said Mara didn't know how to have fun," Katek said, as he turned around to smirk at Dono.

As they followed the path it became evident that it was mostly man-made.  What at first seemed like a natural path eventually cut into the very rock and began climbing up the sheer side of the granite cliff to their right.  It was chiseled out wide enough for the horses to be led.  When they reached a place where the path crested over the top of the cliff they began entering patchy areas of snow.  They crossed a meadow and then wound back down until they entered a hidden valley.  The mouth of the valley was obscured by fallen rocks until Mara led them through a path through the large boulders that led into another narrow canyon.  As Aerin walked through the boulders he noticed that the sides of the boulders were worn smooth from the passing of a lot of horses and people.  The stones on the ground itself were also worn smooth from travel, yet moss covered much of the stone now as if the once used path had not been traveled in many years.

"Any sign of the Togroths?" Aerin asked when they stopped at a widening in the path.

Tocor listened to the rock for a time.  Aerin put his ear to it as well, but couldn't hear anything.

"They're coming up the pass," Tocor replied.

Niler whirled to face Mara and exclaimed. "Gedin save us if they trap us in here we’re finished!"

Mara shrugged, "You didn't listen very well.  I never said they wouldn't follow us up here.  I told you that there is a cave network where we can hold them off, or possibly even lose them.  Much depends on if it is just Togroths."

The Bluecoat Corporal stepped forward.  "You say that like there is something worse than these devil spawn."

"Oh, Corporal, there are.  The Togs are just the dogs of the Dreadmaster, but his real killers come in many other forms.  Wraiths, Dreadbeasts and others," Mara noted.

"Dreadbeasts, those are just monsters made up to scare children," the Corporal scoffed.

"Hey, we saw one, and you're right, they do scare children… and just about everything else," Dono added.  "You don't ever want to see one of those things, trust me."

The officer ignored him.

"Well, let's get moving. I want to be inside this cave before the Togroths kill us all," Niler said, getting his horse ready to move.

Gandarel looked very troubled, but he followed the rest further up the canyon.

Soon they came to a wall across the canyon; at the base was a black opening.  Strange symbols were carved into the rock around the opening, but nothing barred them from entering.

"So this is the cave," Niler noted, stating the obvious.

Gandarel was visibly sweating as he stood looking at the dark opening.

Aerin came over and put an arm on his friend's shoulders.  "Relax, Gandarel; Mara says it’s all right.  Besides, I'll be right there with you all the way."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Gandarel said quietly.

The others were unpacking the torches Mara had brought from the packhorses, and no one was paying attention to the two boys standing before the opening of the cave.

"What does that mean?" Aerin asked.

Gandarel dropped his eyes.  "You know how I joked with you a long time ago about reading some of Mara's prophecy papers?"

"Yes," Aerin answered, drawing out the word.

Gandarel shrugged, "I was waiting for her in her room one time and glanced at one of her prophecy papers.  It had a section in it that described me and this Chamber of Stone."

"And what else did it say?"

Gandarel still couldn't look at Aerin.  "It said I would kill my best friend."

"What?" Aerin said, releasing Gandarel's shoulder.

"You heard me, and you are my best friend, Aerin."

Aerin nodded.  "Yes, and I know you would never hurt me, Gandarel."

"I know that, and you know that, but the prophecy says differently."

"Then it is wrong."

Gandarel was quiet for a few moments.

Aerin told him of his own vision in which Mara and Lor both died and explained how it hadn't happened that way.

"Still, that was something you saw, not this great Prophecy that Mara believes in so much," Gandarel noted, anguish evident in his voice.

"It won't happen; you and I will make sure.  In fact, you can be sure I'LL make sure," Aerin said with a short laugh.

Gandarel smiled at his joke, but he was still scared.

Mara arrived and started to lead the way into the cave.  Gandarel stopped her.  "Tell me the truth, Mara; is this the opening to the Chamber of Stone, or is it further inside?"

"The actual Chamber is further in; this is just the beginning of the caves."

"Will you tell me before we enter the Chamber?"

Mara looked into his eyes and wondered what had him so scared.  "All right, I'll make sure you know before you get inside."

"Fine, let's go," Gandarel exclaimed, feigning bravado, but Mara knew his fear was barely under control.

Mara gave him one last penetrating look, and then lit her torch from the one Tocor held and led the way into the cave.

As they walked Aerin noted that the ground was perfectly smooth.  The cave was natural, but the thousands of people that had once walked through had worn the passages smooth.  He noticed torch marks on the walls where past travelers had burned their names in soot.  Soon the passage started to branch, but Mara knew where she was headed, without hesitation.

"What happened to Yearl, Mara?" Aerin asked as they traveled down a new passage.

He noted that his voice echoed strangely through the cavern.

"I left him to watch back at the first branching.  I don't want to be surprised by our enemies."

Gandarel was still walking near Aerin and Mara, and now he stopped.  "Isn't this far enough, Mara?"

She called a halt, and handed her torch to Aerin, before leaning both hands on her cane and contemplating the nervous Gandarel.

"No, but let's rest for a time. We need to get to the bottom of this fear you have of the Chamber of Stone."

"I'm not afraid of the Chamber," Gandarel defended.

Mara raised both eyebrows, "Aren't you?"

He frowned and paced a few feet over to one wall, where he pretended to study one of the soot marks someone had left.

"No, I just have my reasons for not wanting to go there."

The two councilmen joined the discussion.  Niler spoke first.  "If Gandarel does not wish to enter this Chamber, then we will not go there."

"Yes, he will," answered Mara.  "Let me tell you a little of what was, and what will be."

"We have no time for school lessons, woman," Niler growled.

Mara ignored his comment and said.  "Perhaps you can help; you seem to be a scholarly man.  Do you know the history of this place?  Of how every free human left came to these caverns to create a place where the power of their beliefs in freedom, without fear, could forge a person into a weapon to stop the Dreadmaster?"

Niler waved his hand as if to dismiss her words.  "Those are fairy tales, myths, all exaggerations of the truth, and I know the stories as well as anyone."

"Obviously not so well as you think if you believe them myths.  You stand near the Nexus now, all of you.  This place is no myth and few, if anyone, have traveled these halls since the first days of Ragol, the NexLord, and that was over three hundred years ago."

"But why me?" Gandarel finally asked.  "Why do I have to be the one to go into this Nexus?  Isn't it enough that I am heir to the Seat of Stone?  Isn't being Warlord of the Dragonback sacrifice enough?"

Mara's voice was very soft and kind as she answered the pain in Gandarel's voice.  "I'm sorry, Gandarel, but no.  The world demands a larger price from you, though it is your choice whether you give it or not.  I can bring you to the Chamber, but I cannot make you take the test.  However, if you value your friend's lives, if you value the freedom that we have enjoyed since the Dreadmaster was last defeated, if you would not have the world fall back into the darkness of fear, you must enter the Wall of the Chamber. Once within you must pass the test and become a NexLord."

Enolive answered though it had not been him whom Mara had spoken.  "I know some of the histories of this place. You are not telling him the full story, tell him the rest, woman, tell him of the test and of failure."

Mara looked at Enolive for a moment but returned her attention to Gandarel.  "The test is of your character and commitment, and of your bond to your fellow man in friendship.  You must face it without fear for yourself.  You must enter the Wall alone, and face this test alone.  But if your heart is true, Gandarel, if you do not go into this test with thought to gain personal power, then you will prevail and come out a NexLord with all the powers that entails.  I am here to teach you how to use these powers."

"You say I cannot go inside to gain powers, but that having done so I will gain them, this is confusing," Gandarel muttered.

"Yes, in a way, but look at it like this, the test is to find out if you will abuse the powers you would gain, and place yourself above your friends and the other free humans of this world.  It is designed to stop the creation of another Dreadmaster."

"All right, but you still have not answered my first question: why me, why not Katek?"

Mara’s face was grim.  "It has to be you; you are the one that has been foretold as the savior of the world.  If Katek became a NexLord it might help to fight the Dreadmaster, but we would not defeat him.  You are the one foretold to defeat the Dreadmaster. And, Gandarel, if you fail, this time, there will be no return from the darkness, it will claim you, and then all of your friends, until the world is under the Dreadmaster’s grip of terror for all time."

"If this Ragol was so strong, and he was a NexLord, how come he didn't destroy the Dreadmaster?" demanded Gandarel.

"I don't know.  I'm sorry, it isn't a very satisfying answer, but that is the truth.  No one knows how or why you can do something that Ragol could not, but so it is written.  You have been predicted right to this moment, Gandarel; we know you are the one."

"What do you mean, right to this moment?"

"Depending on which prophecy you read you will find different details, but one verse from the Dark Prophecies mentions this very moment," Mara explained.

"Let me hear it," Gandarel demanded.

Mara considered Gandarel for a moment.  Then she motioned to Tocor, who brought out the wooden box from his pack.  It was the one Gandarel had seen in her room a long time ago.

Mara looked through some pages and finally lifted one out, Aerin stood behind her holding a torch so she could read aloud.

Mara cleared her voice, and then read out in a loud voice, "I saw darkness surrounding the heir to the Seat of Stone.  They stood in a place where passages split, and so did the future.  He argued against his destiny, and in the end, though his friends needed him, though the world's fate rode in the balance, he refused to complete his destiny.  All was lost as their enemies found them unprepared.   The walls shook with the power of the Dreadmaster in the hallowed halls of the Nexus. For the first time in the history of the world, a viper had slipped within and called to them the terror of the earth, a Dreadbeast.  Death came, and their group was sundered, and destruction rained down upon them.”

"This is ridiculous," Niler complained.

Gandarel eyes were large and fearful, "It says I didn't go..."

"Yes, Gandarel, this is one of the Dark Prophecies.  They tell of the horrors that will come, not of the ways to avoid them.  In essence, I try to read how to change from this path and avoid these dark visions.  You MUST go into the Chamber of Stone and take the test," Mara said, taking him by the shoulders and looking into his face.

Gandarel looked at Aerin over Mara's shoulder.  "I can't, Mara," and his voice held true anguish.

The walls shook and dust settled, falling down from the ceiling of the cave above.

"It starts," Mara said, simply.

Niler looked suddenly afraid.  "You can't expect us to believe some document written years ago..."

"Some three hundred years ago," Mara noted.

"...to be a prediction of this moment, that is ridiculous!"

Mara looked at the paper again.  “I quote, "...and the walls shook with the power of the Dreadmaster in the hallowed halls of the Nexus for the first time in the history of the world, for a viper had slipped within and called to them the terror of the earth, a Dreadbeast."

Yearl came running up to their group at that moment and pushed his way through the soldiers to get to Mara.  "Mara, we must move, and quickly, the Togs have arrived and there is something with them."

"Speak plain, for all to understand, Yearl, what comes?" Mara asked her friend.

Yearl looked around and found everyone waiting for his statement.  "It is the soul eater."

"Tell them what that is," Mara requested.

Yearl took a deep breath, "It is the Dreadbeast known as Death."

“Death came and their group was sundered and destruction rained down upon them.”    Mara quoted to the group, but added quietly to herself, "and we have untrained people with us for him to feed on.  Mara faced Gandarel again, "Choose, for if you do not make your choice it will be made for you within minutes.  Is it the path of the Dark Prophecy or do we roll the dice, Gandarel?"

Sweat stood out on his brow and the others heard him mutter, "Forgive me," but he straightened up and said: "Lead me to the Nexus."

Mara gave him a grim smile and then nodded.  She took her torch from Aerin’s hand to light the darkness and led Gandarel to his destiny.

Chapter Fifteen

"...and inside the Chamber of Stone, he will know that his failure has killed his best friend.    From this day forth, the world will shed tears of blood, for Logan's legacy will claim a new face and Death will be his messenger."

-  From the Dark Prophecies

The final set of passages was truly a maze, but Mara knew the way.  They came out of a thin passage, that Aerin would have ignored in favor of two larger choices, and entered an extremely large cavern.  Aerin remembered Mara's story of the creation of the Nexus, if her story was accurate, this chamber was where the multitudes had once gathered and believed in freedom from fear, with one heart and mind.  The ceiling arched high above and was only dimly lit by their six torches.

Where Aerin had felt protected among his companions in the small hallways, here in the dark reaches and echoes of this massive chamber the entire group seemed insignificant.  He remembered the horror of the Dreadbeast that had come over the wall in Strakhelm and wondered about the form of this Dreadbeast.

The darkness loomed menacingly because Aerin knew that the Risen known as Death stalked them.

Across the chamber, their torchlight dimly lit a large arched opening.  As they got closer they could see words carved deep into the stone arching along the top edge.  The group stopped and Mara read them aloud.

"This is the Chamber of the Nexus, where we choose to live without hate or fear, bonded in the strength of friendship."

The group was quiet for a moment, as Mara's words echoed to silence in the vast entrance chamber.

Gandarel broke the silence.  "So this is it?"

"Yes, Gandarel, this is the Chamber of Stone, also known as the Nexus.  There is nothing to fear," Mara explained.

"Oh sure, that's easy for you to say.  What of these Dark Prophecies?  You know the one of which I speak," he said, finally voicing his fear.

"I may know of which you speak, but remember, the prophecies are only one possible outcome, be forewarned and forearmed.  All paths to your future lie through this chamber, and both prophecies speak of this moment.  Be strong and choose the wise path.  I will prepare you for what you need to know within.  Once you feel comfortable, you can enter and get passed this test," Mara assured the young man.

"Well, let's get on with it then," Gandarel decided, trying to bolster his own confidence.

Mara placed a hand on the young man’s shoulder and led Gandarel into the chamber and the waiting Nexus.

Compared to the vast entrance cavern the Chamber of Stone was small.  It was about fifty feet across and roughly round.  Once everyone was inside the chamber the torches lit the area.  It was unremarkable, except for one section of vertical wall at the back of the chamber, where the stone was so smooth it was glossy.  The area was approximately the size of a large doorway, doublewide.  Smaller words, than the ones that graced the arch at the entranceway, were inscribed to the side of the glossy area.  This time, Aerin read the inscribed words.

"This is the testing wall of the Nexus.  Be warned, to enter here you must be ready to face your fears, sacrifice your life for the good of others and take nothing for yourself.  If you wish to shoulder this burden then approach and enter the wall of stone with friends in waiting.  They must be present, but you must enter alone so that you will never be alone again.   Take care before you touch the stone for once started, this test cannot be stopped.  Take this last warning before you choose, those seeking personal power must not, cannot and will not survive.  Once inside, no evil can enter but that with which you harbor in your mind.  Enter the Nexus only if you are ready to place your life in the hands of your fellowship.  Herein is the power of the Nexus, yours to serve and protect if you emerge a NexLord."

Below that were written words of the Bondsman's Pledge and the last verse stated:  ‘The NexLord’s Pledge’.

"I don't understand the meaning of these pledges.  Isn't it time you told us what it means to be a NexLord?" Gandarel asked Mara.

Mara nodded.  "Indeed, Gandarel, I would have given you this knowledge sooner had your lessons continued.  A NexLord is a conduit for the power encased within these walls." She explained, touching the rough wall to the side of the smooth area.

"It was put here hundreds of years ago by all the free people believing in a fellowship of friendship over hate and fear.  This power of the Nexus is strong; it is the greatest power in this world.  Those who sacrificed to create this place could not allow this awesome power to fall into the hands of someone who would abuse it.  To ensure that only a good and true person could wield the power of a Nexlord, a test was created to keep the ambitious and self-serving from becoming a NexLord.  And even after passing this test, any NexLord who gives into the temptation to abuse this power will die.  There is a saying passed down from our ancestors, 'Absolute power corrupts absolutely,' and so we have protected the power of the Nexus against that possibility."

"If that is true, then what could they possibly do to guarantee this power was not abused?" Gandarel inquired.

Mara turned to the young Nexlord candidate and answered, "Simply put, they took the control of the power from the NexLord and put it into the hands of his bonded friends.  When you become a NexLord you will initially have only one power, the ability to bond a friend to you forever.  Other than that you will be unchanged."

"What possible good is that then?  I already have friends, I don't need any further proof of their commitment," Gandarel stated.

Aerin nodded. He agreed with his friend wholeheartedly, but he knew there was more to the NexLord's power from things he had learned from his father and later from Mara.

Mara smiled.  "You are correct, your friends are true and don't need to commit to you to prove it, but here is what you don't understand; it is they who hold the chains to your soul, not the other way around.  When a Nexlord bonds to a friend, they unlock the power of the Nexus, but should they betray that power, if their bonded friend denounces the bond they share, the Nexlord will die."

"What... if Aerin was my bonded friend and he got mad at me, I die?" Gandarel said in disbelief.

"No, I'm sure he will get mad at you," Mara said with a quick knowing smile, "but he would have to denounce his friendship from the heart, and that would not happen if he was still your friend."

"Gedin save me, I don't know if I would trust anyone with the ability to kill me with a thought!" Gandarel exclaimed.

"You must if you would use the power of the Nexus, and without that the Dreadmaster will surely destroy us all.  I know you will become a NexLord, Gandarel, but there is more you need to know, much more."

Whatever it was that Mara was going to tell him was suddenly interrupted by the sound of bone chilling laughter echoing in the hall.  It came from outside the Chamber of Stone.

The sound grated on Aerin, like the sound of fingernails being dragged across a blackboard, it was evil in ways that words cannot describe.  He felt evil down in the marrow of his bones welling up from instinctual fears from a million years of evolution.  Here was Death come for his soul.

"Dreadbeast!" Yearl hissed and spun to face the opening, with his two wooden sticks in his hands.

"Gedin, not now," Mara whispered in a tired voice and then clenched her hands and eyes shut in an effort to regain control.  When she opened her eyes she was in control, and spoke quickly and concisely, just as she had taught her students for times of crises.

"Somehow a Dreadbeast has passed the protections and has tracked us here.  I thought the power of the Chamber was too much for the Dreadmaster's evil to seek us out, but somehow I was wrong.  I must go forth and drive it off, or it will take you all."

"Can we help fight it?" a brave Guardsman asked.

From out in the cavern the voice of Death called, "Come to me, I feel your fear."

Mara grabbed Gandarel.  "You must go into the Nexus or all will be lost!  Your instruction will have to wait until after you succeed.  If this Dreadbeast cannot be defeated, you must be finished here before it gets past us.  I don't want to tell you what the Dark Prophecies say about this time if you have not entered the chamber when Death enters!"

"What do I do?" Gandarel cried.  The voice of the Dreadbeast was nearly driving his fear over the edge, and he was already tottering on the edge of control, long before its arrival.

Aerin stepped up next to his friend and took him by the upper arms.  "Gather yourself Gandarel; do not allow it to make you fear.  That is how it feeds and where it gets its strength."

"He is right, Gandarel, trust your friend.  Now listen quickly, all you have to do is step up to the stone and walk within.  Only you may enter the wall.  Within the chamber, you will be tested… and I can't tell you what form that test will take; it comes from within your own mind.  Be strong, Gandarel, come back to us a NexLord!"

Mara reached up and touched his cheek with the back of her fingers in such a caring gesture that Aerin swallowed hard. It was as if Mara was fixing his features in her mind, in case she never again saw her young friend, but then the moment was over and the old woman turned to go face the Dreadbeast, so she could buy Gandarel time.  Without a word Yearl and Tocor followed Mara.

She paused at the opening and faced the soldiers.  "Do not allow anything to enter this room, be strong and don't fear, we will handle the Dreadbeast, but some Togs might get past.  Once Gandarel is free of the Wall, make your way into the cavern maze.  There you should be able to avoid the Togs until we find you.  If we don't show up, wait until the Togs depart, and then head for the west... farewell."

Mara turned and disappeared into the dark.

Gandarel faced the Wall.

Up to now his two councilmen had been quiet, but Enolive stepped forward and spoke softly to Gandarel.

"You don't have to go in there, Gandarel.  Do you understand that you could die in this test?  You might never come out."

Gandarel shook with fear; the smooth stone face of the Wall terrified him. The thought of what might happen, of the prophesy’s words about him killing Aerin, of the Dreadbeast Death, coming, of the test that could kill him... each was like a large boulder of mounting fear, each of them weighing down on his mind, as he tried not to collapse.

Aerin approached his trembling friend.  "It's all right, Gandarel, this is your destiny.  My father believed you were the one, and I believe in you."

Gandarel did not want to step forward, but in the face of Aerin’s calm he could not let his friend down, and so, somehow, he moved forward one step.  He stopped when he was just in front of the stone.  "Tell me that the others that have gone in here have come out."

"Mara said almost all of them have, she only mentioned one that didn't return," Aerin answered truthfully.

The sweat was pouring from Gandarel's face and soaking down into his shirt.

"I can't do it," he almost moaned, as his mind rebelled at the thought of the solid stone that would be around his body if he stepped into that smooth surface.

"Then don't go in, Gandarel, it is death to enter that stone," Enolive replied.  "We can just leave this place! You aren't ready, and that woman shouldn't have asked you to do this yet."

Aerin scowled at the bony councilman, “You aren’t helping!”

The doubt that Enolive's words caused in Gandarel was obvious in his face, yet with a shaking hand, he reached forward to touch the smooth stone. Instead of a hard surface, his fingers entered the stone as if it was no harder than water, but there was no ripple in the smooth rock.  Instantly an invisible force was pulling him forward.  He tried to stop, but once started he was pulled into the stone, body and soul.  He turned and stretched his free hand out in supplication; the young boy’s face a mask of terror.

"Help me!" Gandarel cried, terrified more than at any other time in his life.

Enolive was nearest, but he did nothing.

“Please, Aerin, help me!” Gandarel pleaded desperately as he turned, trying to keep his head out of the stone, but he was still moving into the wall.

Aerin saw his friend's anguish and leaped to grab his hand.  When Gandarel felt Aerin's hand, he latched onto his friend with a dying man's grip, but the pull was too strong and Gandarel's scream was cut off as his head went into the stone.  His hand clutched Aerin's, and though Aerin tried to stop, Gandarel's death grip on his hand pulled his friend’s hand into the smooth stone surface.

Lor leaped for Aerin and grabbed his shoulder, as she tried to stop him from entering the Wall after Gandarel.

Aerin felt his right hand go into the stone, and now he too felt the pull.  He looked back into Lor's desperate gaze and he was calm. Mara’s teachings in fear washed his mind of panic and his thoughts were clear. He spoke to Lor calmly, "As you love me, Lor, let me go, now!"

Lor saw the clarity in his face; it wasn't a look of panic, but one of decision.  Trusting her friend, she let loose.

Lor stood and watched as Aerin stepped into the Wall, no longer resisting. His hand was still clasped in Gandarel’s tight grip.  In a moment, all traces of both friends were gone.

Chapter Sixteen

"I saw the boy return and his face was the mask of despair, his soul empty and his future destroyed.  In that moment, he was lost to us forever."

-  From the Dark Prophecies

"Something tells me that wasn't supposed to happen," Katek stated into the shocked silence.

Dono read the words written on the side of the Wall again, aloud, "…you must enter alone so that you will never be alone again.   Take care before you touch the stone, for once started, this test cannot be stopped."

"What should we do?" Lor demanded.

"Well, I doubt it will do any good to send more people in," Enolive said, entering the discussion.

"You should have stopped him from going in there in the first place!" Niler snarled at his fellow councilman.

"How dare you!"

"Shut up, both of you!” the Corporal of the Bluecoats commanded.  "I can't hear a thing with you two bellowing."

He and his soldiers were clustered around the edges of the chamber's entrance, with drawn weapons.  Gandarel's Guardsmen were arranged in the center of the chamber, guarding the path to the Wall, where Gandarel had entered.

Suddenly a Togroth leaped out of the dark and into the chamber.  Its mouth was open in a snarl and it carried a curved sword with scalloped edges in its hand.  It bellowed its unintelligible war cry to terrify its enemies.

The Bluecoats leaped from either side, and cut it down with sheer numbers, but three more Togs leaped in and the battle was engaged.

Half the Guardsmen went to their aid while the remaining six stayed in reserve.

Katek, Dono, and Lor prepared their weapons.  Behind the youths, Niler Corbin cowered against the wall to the left of the entrance.  Enolive stood near the Guardsmen, seemingly calm.

The fight was brief and vicious.  When it was over, the four Togs were dead, but six Bluecoats and two Guardsmen were also dead and three men wounded.

"What's happening in there?" Lor demanded while staring at the smooth wall that had swallowed her friends, but it gave back no answers.

Ten screaming Togs were suddenly charging out of the dark, and battle was engaged throughout the chamber.  Lor, Dono, and Katek fought as a unit, keeping their backs to the wall.  A Strakhelm Guardsmen fell from a sword thrust through his chest, and one of the screaming beasts leaped through the gap.  The Tog, brandishing the gore-splashed blade, ran at Dono, with spittle flying from its black teeth.

Behind it, another Tog followed through the gap, and the young warriors engaged them in battle.

Dono parried a crushing blow from the first Tog, but the power of the thick arm and the weight of the heavy blade drove him to his knees.

Katek jumped forward to engage the second beast, with skill and speed. He got the first blow in, before dancing under the Tog's return strike.

Lor stepped in front of Dono, with her quarterstaff spinning in a windmill move that whipped the end around to crack the Tog on the right side of its squat head. The thick bone broke, as its skull caved in from the strike of her staff, but even dying the Tog swept its massive sword downwards.  With incredible agility, Lor leaped back, but Dono was behind her and they collided. That impact kept her from completely escaping the inevitable descent of the wicked blade.  The sword's tip cut down into Lor's chest and she collapsed in a torrent of blood.

Dono was horrified, he regained his feet and leaped forward with a massive cry, and cut deeply into the neck of the Tog that was pressing Katek.  It clouted Dono with its free hand, but the cut to its neck was fatal, and it fell to the chamber floor, thrashing around and flinging its yellow blood all over the chamber.

Behind them all, no one noticed when Enolive stepped in front of Niler and locked gazes with the leader of the council.  Niler looked into the dark eyes of his long time colleague and fell into the evil pools of pure hatred that he saw in the depths of those dark pits.  Enolive grinned and then thrust a blade deep into Niler’s gut, angling up to pierce his heart. The look of betrayal in Niler’s face was like applause to a performer, and Enolive smiled as he gave the blade a last twist, and then yanked it out.  Blood drained from the councilman's face as the life drained from his soul, and he fell dead to the Chamber floor.

Moments later the battle was over, five Bluecoats were still alive and three of Gandarel's Guardsmen. Niler was presumed killed by the Togs.

Dono crawled from where he had fallen toward Lor's bloody red body.

Aerin was momentarily disoriented as his head went into the stone wall, but almost immediately he found himself in a dark passage. It felt like he had stepped through a sheet of thin ice.  He didn't know how, or when, he lost Gandarel's hand, but his friend was there in the dark hallway a few steps ahead.

"Aerin!" Gandarel called.  He was up against the wall as if the solid rock would give Gandarel sanctuary.

"I'm here, are you all right?" Aerin answered.

Gandarel swallowed.  "For the moment, but where are we?  I thought we were going into solid stone, but this is some sort of passage."

Aerin moved over near his friend.  "It's strange, we don't have a torch, but we can see."

Gandarel shrugged, "The place seems to glow."

Aerin moved over to the wall, where they had entered at the end of the hall; it was rough and solid to the touch.

"What now?" Gandarel asked, "It doesn't seem like we can get out and I don't know where we're supposed to go.  Do you have any ideas?"

Aerin shook his head.  "I'm not even supposed to be here."

Gandarel looked away from his friend in anguish, he suddenly remembered the piece of the Dark Prophecy he had read in Mara's room.  Now he knew what it meant. He had doomed his friend, by dragging him into the Wall.  His thoughts leaped to various possibilities.  What if only he could leave?  What if Aerin was doomed to stay in the Wall for eternity?  In anguish, and fear for his friend, Gandarel turned and said, "I'm sorry, I... I was terrified, Aerin... forgive me!"

"It will be all right, I think," Aerin answered," but Mara's going to tan my hide for this," he noted, not understanding the base or depth of Gandarel's fear.  He thought his friend was just scared of the situation, he had no idea Gandarel was afraid he had doomed his best friend to oblivion, trapped forever in a dim hallway under a mountain of rock.

Gandarel tried pounding on the rough stone, but it seemed solid rock now.  "What do you know about this place, Aerin?  I've heard you say you studied this stuff with your father."

"Not much, I'm afraid.  The actual testing of a NexLord is a well-kept secret.  I have only read about the exploits of NexLords, Ragol in particular, but as to how he became one… you got me.  Can you remember what those words said on the door?"

"Yeah, something about facing the sacrifice of your life for the good of others, I think."

Aerin sighed, "We're a fine pair, all I keep seeing is that bit about, 'can not and will not survive.'"

"Yeah, that part stuck with me too," Gandarel admitted.

Aerin started down the hallway, "Come on, we're never going to get out by standing around.  This hallway has to lead us somewhere, probably to this 'test'."

"I don't like this," Gandarel said, and he was trembling in fear, but he followed his friend.

Aerin looked back, "How bad can it be?"

Out of the dark ahead, an evil chuckle echoed softly in the hall.

Gandarel shook in terror as he answered Aerin's question, "It could be pretty bad."

Aerin advanced slowly, with Gandarel shadowing his steps.  They had only gone about ten feet when the voice spoke, "Two have come, yet only one can leave."

Gandarel grabbed Aerin's shoulder with his hand from behind.

"Yah," Aerin yelped, jumping from the touch, "don't DO that!"

"Gedin, only one of us can leave!" Gandarel choked out, through a fear-laden voice.

Aerin's heart was beating from being startled by Gandarel right after the creepy voice spoke, but he gathered his emotions using Mara's teachings in the ways of controlling fear.  "Relax, Gandarel, don't let fear rule you.  This is a test, maybe that voice is lying to us."

Instead of Gandarel answering Aerin's question the voice spoke, though this time it seemed closer and off to their right slightly.  "Oh no, my boy, you changed things when you so foolishly ignored the warning.  Only one may enter, only one can leave."

"Who are you?" Aerin called out into the dark.  Aerin could feel Gandarel's hand shaking where he was still holding onto his shoulder.

"Don't you know me, boy?” the voice rasped and then laughed.

Aerin recognized the laugh; it was the same one that had come out of the dark in the Chamber of Stone, the one Yearl named 'Death'.

"Death," Gandarel said fatally, as he too recognized the voice.

"And I've come for one of you, but who will it be?"

Gandarel knew, he had known since the day he read that prophecy. He had betrayed his friend and Death would take him.  He shook with more fear.

Aerin advanced again, and Gandarel had no choice but to follow or lose contact with his shoulder.  The passage suddenly widened out, and they could see that they had exited the caverns and had come out onto a ledge overlooking a vast drop-off.  The sky was jet black, without a single star, and the cliff seemed to fall into nothingness below.  There was only the opening back into the hall, the cliff edge, and nothingness.

Aerin and Gandarel moved carefully to the edge and looked down.  The craggy cliff fell forever into darkness.

"Welcome to death, I am your guide," the voice said from behind them. Both boys spun around, putting their backs to the cliff. Somehow it had gotten behind them now.

A dark shape stood in the entrance to the hallway.  It was cloaked and hooded, and where there should have been a face there was only blackness.

"It is so rare that I get to come here, only once before," Death noted, chuckling in some fond remembrance.  "He was weak, and gave into his fears, so I came and took him.  This time, I get one of you, because only..."

"One may leave," Aerin finished for him, "We've heard it."

"Don't piss him off, Aerin," Gandarel hissed in a whisper.

"I'm not afraid of him," Aerin answered aloud. "Show yourself Mr. Death, I'll look you in the eye."

Death glided forward and there was no sound of footsteps, just utter silence.

"Look, then, upon your future," the dead voice said, and pulled down its hood.  Aerin's face, rotted on one side and pasty white on the other with milky clouded eyes, looked at the two boys.

Gandarel moaned.

The face decomposed rapidly, before their eyes, to a white grinning skull, the milky white eyes still sitting in the sockets, without flesh to hold them.

"Pretty," Aerin noted.

The evil apparition lifted the long black-sleeved arm on his right side, and a skeletal hand emerged, reaching slowly for the two boys.

Gandarel yelled and shoved Aerin to the side while he dove in the other direction.  "Don't let it touch you, Aerin, it means death."

Aerin turned his fall into a roll, and came back to his feet in a crouch, a dagger held low and to the side.

Death stopped and chuckled.  "One may leave and one must stay, the way is open."

From the hallway, a brighter glow appeared.

"I'm not leaving without you, Aerin!" Gandarel yelled.

"Fine by me," Aerin said and took a side step toward the open hallway.

Death glided forward, and Aerin could not avoid him, so he thrust his dagger into its chest.  Aerin felt only the resistance of the outer cloth and heard the edge of his blade scraping along the bone.

Death's fetid breath made Aerin choke, as it laughed right in his face.  A hard knobby hand struck him and he was thrown to the edge of the cliff, where he slid over the precipice.  Aerin caught himself just as he slipped over the edge, hanging above the endless drop.

Death came over and stood above him. Aerin's hold was precarious, and he was helpless before the horrid creature’s milky white gaze.

"I have not come for you, Aerin, but for your friend," it chuckled, and then turned just as Gandarel arrived from behind with a yell.

Gandarel was terrified, but he couldn't bear to live with the thought that he caused the death of his friend.  Even his own death was preferable.  He ran at Death, with the last of his strength.

The skeletal arm swung, and Death backhanded Gandarel across the mouth. Gandarel was thrown away to land in a crumpled heap.  This time, the fight was out of Gandarel, and terror kept him shaking on the ground, he knew Death was coming for him.

Death turned toward Gandarel, and Aerin made a grab that cost him his hold on the edge of the cliff, but he got hold of the black robe, and as he fell back he pulled Death with him; together they fell over the edge.

Gandarel cried out with terrible loss and he crawled toward the edge where his friend had disappeared.

Aerin landed hard on a smaller ledge, ten feet below, and managed to keep from falling off.  He scrambled to his feet and leaped for a handhold above.  Quickly, he ascended and was only three feet from the top when he felt the icy touch of Death's skeletal hand around his ankle.

Death laughed, as he started pulling himself up Aerin's body, his sharp boney fingers gripping so hard he bruised Aerin with each grasp.

Gandarel looked over the edge and into Aerin's pain filled eyes.

Death was crawling up Aerin's body, with its large toothy maw grinning evilly at Gandarel, as it came to take his life.

Gandarel backed away from the edge in a half crawl, and terror ruled his heart. It was so great he could no longer even think and his mind was consumed with fear.

Aerin gritted his teeth and kicked Death in the chest with his free leg.  The evil thing lost its grip and fell back to the ledge below.

Aerin climbed with all his strength for the top of the cliff.  His head just crested the edge in time to see Gandarel fleeing for the glowing end of the hallway, and then Aerin felt the painful touch of Death latching onto his leg.

"He will not escape me," Death laughed.

And Aerin knew what he had to do, if Death got past him, it would go after his friend, and he could not allow that. Gandarel was afraid, and that fear tore at Aerin’s heart. So he calmly let loose of the cliff edge, so that Death could not climb up his body.  As he did so he pushed off from the cliff, so that they passed the ledge and arched out over the endless drop. As Aerin fell into the abyss with Death, he wasn’t afraid, he had saved his friend.

Gandarel fled toward the light at the end of the hall to save his life, but as he neared the glowing stone at a dead run, he remembered his friend. Aerin had always been there for him. He knew beyond a doubt, in one flash, that Aerin would never leave him to die; he would face even a creature as horrible as Death. Gandarel remembered Death’s words, ‘one could leave, but one must stay’. Suddenly he knew what he had to do; he would give himself to Death, so Aerin could live. His decision made, he tried to stop running toward the glowing wall, but when he tried to reverse his course his feet slipped on the gravelly surface of the passage, and his momentum took him through the wall of light.

Three new Togs leaped into the Chamber of Stone, and the weary defenders fought for their lives.  Wounded from the previous battles, the remaining Bluecoats tried to run but were pulled down by one of the Togs.  They tried to stab at the creature, as it hacked them to pieces.  The three remaining Guardsmen jumped to their aid and fought the Togs bravely. They killed two before the last man succumbed to a vicious blow that nearly cleaved him in two.  The snarling Tog yanked its sword free of the Guardsman’s corpse and then leaped toward Dono, where he knelt at Lor's side.

Katek had picked up Lor's quarterstaff and met the hurling beast head on.  He jabbed the longer reach staff forward with all his strength, right into the throat of the screaming monster.  The impact crushed its windpipe.

Choking, the beast tried to cleave Katek in two, but the young warrior danced away, his quarterstaff blurring around into a defensive position, that Temmen would have been proud to see.

At that moment, Gandarel flew out of the stone wall and into the room.  He fell to the ground and immediately leaped back to his feet. He turned with a sob of Aerin’s name and launched himself at the smooth stone of the Wall of testing only to crash into solid stone.  He landed hard on the ground at the base of the wall.

Katek and the wheezing Tog circled and then crashed together, for three quick blows, none of which landed.  Katek again retreated and the Tog went after him.

Gandarel looked up with tear-stained cheeks and beheld the carnage in the room.  Almost everyone was dead.  Only Enolive, Katek, and his Tog opponent still stood, and all around them, the floor was littered with bodies. Dono knelt by a bloody Lor, and Gandarel crawled over quickly to see to his friend.

He looked down into Lor's pain-filled face, and she mouthed the word, "Aerin?"

Gandarel's eyes diverted from her gaze and he sobbed.

"What happened to Aerin?" Dono demanded and grabbed Gandarel's arm with a hand covered in Lor’s red blood.

"I left him to die, within the wall, I failed him," Gandarel admitted.

"Go back," Lor whispered, blood bubbling from her mouth.

"I can't!" Gandarel yelled in anguish. "I'm sorry," he sobbed and took hold of Lor's hands.

They all saw the bright golden chain marks that ran around both of his wrists.

"I'm not worthy of these, I failed my friend!" Gandarel cried.  He released Lor’s hand, but her blood was on his hands, and without thought he began smearing it across his wrist in an effort to hide the golden marks of a NexLord.

Gandarel backed away from Lor and Dono, his loathing for himself too great to withstand their looks of concern.

He backed up to the wall and sobbed in self-loathing, he had left Aerin to die… left him to Death.

It was Enolive that placed a consoling hand on his shoulder.

"It's not your fault, Gandarel."

"It IS my fault, I hate this place, and I hate myself!"

"You never wanted to be a NexLord; they forced you into this, all of them.  They made you kill your only friend," as the Dreadbeast, called Betrayer, spoke to the boy, he used his dark powers stoke the hate already within Gandarel's soul.

Gandarel was panting; the all-consuming hate he felt for his actions was starting to spread outwards. He suddenly understood what Enolive was telling him, everyone he knew had pushed him to do this, even Aerin.  His body overflowed with hatred for all the people that had pushed and controlled him, all the people that had made him fail and come to this point in life.

"Use the hate; turn it into power, Gandarel! Feel it flowing into your bones and muscles, you can make them pay," the Dreadbeast, in the guise of the councilmen, hissed in his ear, both hands now kneading his shoulders.

Gandarel's heart pounded and he felt his muscles swell, he suddenly saw red, and with a bellow of pure hatred, he leaped off the floor. He scooped up a fallen sword in his bloody hand.  He wanted to kill something, anything.

Katek ducked under a blow from the Tog's sword and swung his quarterstaff into the Tog’s left knee, the joint broke with a snap, and the beast went down. It was still choking out its life from its crushed throat, but right then two new Togs appeared in the opening of the Chamber. Katek had barely been able to handle one, and he knew he now faced his death, but the young warrior lifted his weapon, calmly, ready for battle.

Screaming in pure hatred, and shaking from the hate bottled up inside, Gandarel charged toward the two Togroths.  He arrived with such speed and power, that his first cut with the sword took the first Tog's head off at the shoulder.  The headless body staggered for a moment, shooting yellow blood over the walls, before falling twitching to the stone.  Whirling through the fountain of blood, with hate induced berserk speed; Gandarel jammed his sword clean through the heart of the second Tog until the hilt struck its chest with force.  Without pause, Gandarel ripped the sword free.

Screaming in hatred, Gandarel charged out into the dark. He sought pain and death for all, and quick as an adder, the Dreadbeast Betrayer followed. It kept enhancing the hatred of the berserk boy.

Katek stood panting in stunned silence for a moment, but he shook himself and started back toward Lor. He wanted to see if there was anything he could do, but after one look, he knew she was mortally wounded, her blood was pooling around her and she would soon be gone.

Aerin was falling, but he was at peace.  His friend would escape this dark place and become a NexLord to fulfill his destiny.  The pain of Death's grip was gone, and Aerin didn't know what had happened to the fell beast, but he didn't really care.  He had seen it go past the ledge with him before it lost touch.

Aerin was just starting to wonder if there would ever be a bottom to this endless fall when his body struck the floor.  It wasn't with the impact he had been expecting, and he slid across the floor more than ran into it.  Momentarily dazed, Aerin looked around, and felt vertigo, he had seen this very scene once before in his life.  Torches lit the area, illuminating the soldier and Tog bodies that were strewn across the stone floor.  Fearing, but knowing what he would see, Aerin turned his tired head and saw Dono kneeling by a body. Katek was hurrying toward Dono.

Dono turned and there was anguish on his face.

"Get Mara, I need her help!” he called desperately.

Katek, his arm bloody, spoke, and his voice held pain, "Don't you remember... Death came for her and she's gone."

Aerin stumbled to his feet and ran to Dono's side, where he knelt down by Lor's body.

Dono looked up through tear filled eyes, "She needs help, Aerin!"

"I... I there is nothing I can do, she's dead," Aerin said, his voice echoing strangely in his head from the memory of the words and the repeating of them happening at the same instant.   At that moment, Yearl came running into the Chamber and went quickly to the small group huddled around Lor.

"Where is Gandarel?” he asked Katek in a hurried voice.  Yellow and red blood were mixed in stains on the Willowman's purple clothing.

Katek answered.  "He came out of the wall and went berserk; he killed two Togs and ran off into the dark, with that councilman Enolive chasing him.  I couldn't stop him."

"We MUST find him!" Yearl said desperately. He started to turn when he finally noticed the tableau of Dono and Aerin crouched over the smaller body of Lor.

Yearl knelt down and took a quick look at the situation.  There was no chance to save Lor; the wound was too great to survive, but as he started to rise he saw an incredible sight, golden chain marks encircled Aerin's wrists.

Quickly Yearl knelt back down and grabbed Aerin's hands. He pulled them up before the dull eyes of the grieving boy.  "Look, do you see these?"

"What?" Aerin asked dully.

Yearl released one hand and slapped Aerin, hard.  "Pull yourself together, young NexLord, your friend needs you!"

Aerin's expression was brighter, but he still didn't understand Yearl's statement.

"You might be able to save Lor if you are willing to give her your life," Yearl stated.

That got through to Aerin.  "Save her?  Then if that is the price, take my life," he said, pulling a dagger and handing it hilt first to Yearl.

"Not that way, this could kill you both, or save her, I'm not sure.  I've never heard of a bonding happening when a Bondsman is mortally wounded, but if you are willing, you might be able to save her."

"Anything," Aerin said desperately.  "I don't care about the risk."

Yearl looked into his eye for a moment and then nodded.  "You understand that you will be bonded forever, and you will put the keeping of your life into her hands."

"Yes, do it, hurry," Aerin said, looking at the pale face of Lor.

Yearl grabbed him, "You must do exactly as I say, and it is going to hurt, here," he said, pointing to Aerin's chest.

"Just tell me what to do."

Yearl turned to Lor, "It starts with her.  She has to have enough strength left to begin the bond.  Lor…" he said, leaning down near her face, "Aerin needs you, he is asking you to become his bondsman, for life… will you do it?"

Lor's eyes fluttered and she opened them slightly, "Aerin?  You're alive!"

"That's more than I can really say for you," Aerin said through tear-filled eyes.

"Damn Togs, I wasn't so nimble this time," she noted.

Yearl broke in, "Hush, you must repeat the words written on the wall, Lor.  And you have to mean them.  They will bond you to Aerin, for life."

"Servant?" Lor said, a little of her old fire in that one word.

"No, friend," Yearl promised.

Lor sighed, "It won't matter either way, but if it is important."

"It is, say the words," Yearl requested.

"I don't remember ‘em," Lor complained, her eyes starting to close.

"LOR wake up, you must fight for this!" Aerin demanded and then added, "It’s just like a girl to give up."

Lor's eyes opened and she feebly tried to slap him with her right hand.

"You'll pay for that," she promised.

Yearl had Dono prop her up and face her toward the words written on the wall.  Fresh blood poured slowly from the long cut in her chest."

"I share with you, my friendship;” she paused and licked her bloody lips, then continued, "my loyalty and all that I am without qualification."  She paused again and her eyes closed, Aerin thought she was gone, but a moment later she opened them again, and she continued, but there was a hint of Lor's old fire as she read the next line, “I give you my life, and I would die for you."   She gained strength and the last line was delivered strong and clear.  "Will you accept my bond?"

Yearl showed Aerin how to hold her hands.  They gripped wrists, right-to-right, and left-to-left in a cross pattern over Lor's propped up body.  "Read the NexLord's verse," he prompted when they were set.

Aerin immediately read his part, “I offer in return my life into your hands.  I swear to never betray your bond, on forfeit of my life.  It is in your keeping from this moment forth.  With this commitment, I share with you all that I am.  I accept your bond and give you mine in return.  These chain marks signify the sealing of our bond, where the weakest link measures the strength of our fellowship."

Two things happened: Aerin and Lor both felt a cold sensation on their wrists, and Aerin gasped in pain as blood erupted out of his chest.

"Aerin!" Lor cried out while trying to hold her friend up, she suddenly felt a lessening of pain and more strength.

Aerin felt as though a hot iron had been dragged across his chest, and he was suddenly weak, he collapsed next to Lor, though he was still holding onto Lor's wrists.

"What's wrong?" Dono demanded, horrified at the new blood.

Yearl nodded.  "It's what I expected, Lor's wound is now less, but Aerin shares it with her, but fear not, they may both survive the wound now, and they will heal faster than normal.  Now that your friend is out of danger I must go, Mara is in dire need and I have stayed too long.  I will tell her what has transpired here, and we will find Gandarel."

To Dono and Katek he said, "Bind their wounds and get them out of this chamber, as soon as you can! Get into the maze and hide.  If we don't find you soon make your way out; Aerin will know the way.  Go to the capitol, and Mara will find you there.  May the trees bless you with good health, my friends," he finished and was suddenly gone.

Gandarel was sticky with yellow Tog blood, and still the hatred was unsatisfied.  He was a demon that could not be stopped.  The more he butchered, the more he hated, and the more powerful he became.  He cut a bloody path through the halls, but no matter how fast he ran, the Dreadbeast Betrayer was with him. When they emerged into the night, at the entranceway to the caves, they found the vast majority of the Tog army, waiting outside to take all who tried to escape.

The hate filled boy stopped, and the creature he had known, as Enolive, stepped up behind him again and placed his bony hands on the boy's heaving shoulders.

"Do you hate them, young master?"  Betrayer asked, enhancing Gandarel's hate through his hands.

"With all my soul, I want to kill them all!" Gandarel replied and his voice shook with lack of control, and spittle flew from his lips.

"Feel their fear as they die, take it and turn it back on them," the Dreadbeast counseled, and through their flow of hate, he slipped into Gandarel's mind and showed him how.

Three Togs spotted Gandarel and charged.

He leaped and his hate fueled body blurred to meet them.  As they died, Gandarel's hatred bathed in the feeling of their fear and turned it outwards.

Ten more ran at him to attack, but they flinched away in fear when they neared.  Gandarel laughed, it was easy, he channeled their new fear back and they were repelled as if a wall of fire stood between them and Gandarel, and then they fled.

The feeling of their fear increased his power and Gandarel's hatred reveled in it, he advanced with Betrayer at his back.  The more Togroths that ran, the more fear he channeled.  Soon the whole Togroth army was in rout as they fled the young human in abject terror.  The mass of their terror fed his power like a torrential river, and the boy reached a new level of raw fear.  It called a waiting power, attracting it and pulling it from afar.  From the east, a pulsing shifting ball of energy came streaking toward him, drawn like a fly to sugar.  It sped up and slammed into Gandarel's chest, and his mind expanded to heights and powers that he could hardly fathom.

He turned and the nearest fleeing Togs died and fell skidding to the ground.  The fear of the others swelled and Gandarel's power waxed on.  An accelerating circle of expanding death cut down the fleeing Togroths, who fell dead as the wave of building fear burst their hearts in their chests.

Enolive's body suddenly shifted in shape, and swelled into a large, yellow-scaled demon, with red eyes.  "Behold!" Betrayer cried in rapture, "The Dreadmaster reborn!  Never has there been a Dreadmaster in this world to match you!” the Dreadbeast's voice was gleeful.  "The prophecies are met!  A NexLord is the Dreadmaster and the world will fall under his power, forever!"

Gandarel was still killing the Togs, when the demon stepped up next to him, "Master, leave one Tog alive, we will do unto it worse things than death."

Gandarel complied and all but one of the army of fleeing Togs died in their tracks. He left the last one shaking on the ground.  Abject terror kept it huddled in a fetal position.

"Make us a steed, master!  Use the power within you to change the Tog into your vision!"

The boy's body, that stood there, was both Gandarel and the Dreadmaster.  Thoughts from other men, who had held the power that was the Dreadmaster, warred in his mind.  He was the evil Maugh, and then he was Logan, and then both.  Dead men's thoughts, that made up pieces of the ancient power, warred with Gandarel’s personality for dominance, and neither one triumphed, yet a melding was achieved.

Out of that mixed bag of insanity, Gandarel pulled the image of a Dragon and held that form in his mind.  He combined the power of fear from the eight hundred Tog deaths he had just absorbed with a large portion of the power that had come to him from the east and pushed it into the body of the Tog on the ground.  Gandarel willed it, and the power flowed through him and into the cowering body.  Dead Togroth bodies lying near the quivering living Tog were pulled, like metal to a magnet.  Wings sprouted and the Tog's body swelled.  The dead bodies melded into the living Tog, as their mass swelled and changed him into something new. He swiftly grew larger. The Togs arms changed to legs, its hands to claws.  More bodies dragged across the ground and pooled themselves into the growing beast.  Its skin turned to scales and became bright green. A long sinuous neck sprouted and then a dragon’s maw formed with long curved teeth. When Gandarel was through molding his creation, a green dragon, with a forty-foot wingspan, stood before the Dreadmaster reborn and the Dreadbeast Betrayer. The dragon waited for its master's commands.

Betrayer went and climbed onto its wide scaled back, and Gandarel joined him on the new dreadbeast. At a command from Gandarel, the dragon lifted from the valley floor and winged off into the east, carrying the Dreadmaster Gandarel and his new teacher toward the wastelands.

Chapter Seventeen

"It was terrible.  We stood before the Dreadmaster's fortress in the wastelands of the east, and the hoard came forth by wing and foot.  They bore down upon us, like a landslide toward a child, and I did nothing."

- From the Prophecies of Doom

Lying in the Chamber of Stone with a deep cut in his chest, Aerin could do little but wait as Katek bound his wound with cloth torn from a dead man's shirt.  Aerin turned his head and gazed at the dead Guardsmen, Bluecoat soldiers and Togroths lying on the floor.  Red and yellow blood mixed in pools of swirling color, marking another place where hatred and fear had feasted.

Aerin felt helpless; any second the Togs could come out of the dark and make short work of his friends.  Where was Mara?  He remembered the vision that had come to him back in Strakhelm of Lor dying and of Mara being dead.  He raised one of his arms before his eyes and saw the two intricately detailed golden chains that went around his entire wrist.  The first was larger than the second, and both were almost three dimensional to his eyes.  Without warning, as it had that night at the east wall, Aerin's world suddenly shifted into a strange vision.

He saw his wrist before him, but instead of two chain marks, now there were five.  The fourth mark was identically shaped to the others, but where the others were brilliant gold, this one was solid black.  His gaze came up and he found himself in a strange place.  His vision was again that strange in and out of focus view he had experienced once before.  Desolation lay around him, black rocks and beige sand dunes, that had numerous bleached white bones laying about or sticking out like arrows from a corpse.  A massive fortress rose up from the dunes and black columns of smoke billowed upwards from huge fires burning on each of the multiple corners.  The walls sloped inwards slightly from the base, and within them was a structure that soared to even greater heights.

Deep, booming drums beat a slow tempo, that was felt as much as heard.

Aerin looked right and saw a magnificent female warrior.  She was young, with raven hair and various pieces of armor strapped to her sinuous body.  Weapons bristled everywhere around her, and when she turned the fires on the walls reflected in the bloodthirsty grin she gave him.  He didn't know her.

Her words chilled him to the bone, for she was almost gleeful in their delivery, "It's time to die!"

Suddenly the drums stopped and a hoard of Togs poured out of the open gates, like a burst damn; large creatures took wing from the battlements. It was a sight that would have made the heartiest veteran of battle quell in fear, but the warrior girl just laughed.

Time returned to normal and Aerin found his gaze on the twin chains of gold around his wrist.  He knew he had seen another glimpse of the future, and it terrified him.  He wondered what terrible events could bring the young son of a scholar before the battlements of the Dreadmaster, and he wondered about the black chain mark he had seen on his wrist.

Against all of Mara's prophecies, he was a NexLord.  It was all so confusing to his tired mind.  What was he supposed to do?  NexLords were the great leaders of battle, the heroes of legend, not young boys picked by mistake.  What were the powers of the Nexus?  Now that he had bonded to Lor, what did that mean?  He knew the answers to these questions must be discovered if he was to survive.

His last thought, before drifting off into a fitful slumber, was that if he was going to keep having these visions, he better start writing them down; visions of death, visions of battle and visions of black chains.

"The story of the NexLord Aerin and his bondsmen will continue in the second volume, NexLord: Black Chains."

* * * * *

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Without Wax,

Philip Blood

Table of Contents

- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen